Page 21 of Solstice

Bill tapped his cup on the counter. “Hey, Dori, you gonna top up my coffee the normal way, or just wiggle your nose?”

She frowned at him.

He grinned and sent her a wink. “Hell, I’ve done it now. I’ll be a toad before the day’s out.”

She carried the coffeepot over and refilled his cup. “You were a toad to begin with, Bill.”

“Yeah, but I’m still your favorite customer,” he said.

Then he went right back to work on his breakfast. Nothing negative, nothing dark. He didn’t seem the least bit upset about the newspaper’s revelations.

A throat cleared. She glanced up and saw the Reverend Mackey sitting at the counter. Great. He never came in here. Pasting a smile on her face, she walked up, grabbing a heavy mug and bringing the coffeepot. “Coffee, Reverend?”

“You bet,” he said. “I read your article in the paper this morning.”

“Wasn’t my article,” she said as she poured. “I didn’t really want my private life plastered all over the front page, but I didn’t have much choice in the matter.”

“Really?”

“Do you need a menu? Breakfast, or just coffee?”

“No, no breakfast. Mainly, I came in to talk to you.”

She met his eyes. They were kind and blue. He had a blond crew cut and looked more like a marine than a minister. “Please tell me you’re not here to try to convert me.”

His brows went up high. “I imagine you’re expecting that. Might get it, too, from some folks, including some clergy. Nasty mail, phone calls, a protester or two. Are you ready for all of that, Dori?”

“I guess I’ll have to be.”

He nodded, sighed. “I assumed you could handle it. You handled New York, after all. Besides, you’re clergy, according to the newspaper. Quite highly placed clergy at that.” She stared at him, half expecting some kind of a trick. He touched her hand and she realized she was still pouring his coffee and damn close to flooding the cup. She stopped and took the pot back to the burner. “I used to be considered an elder,” she said. “But it’s hard to be highly placed when you’re one of a kind.”

He smiled slowly. “That’s why you were against the article? You think you’re the only Wiccan in town?”

She lifted her brows. “I am.”

“No, Dori, you’re not. You might be the only Wiccan clergy in town, though. Which is why I’m rather glad that article ran. There are people here who need you. Now, I admit I’d prefer they come to me, but my beliefs don’t fulfill the needs of every person in Crescent Cove, and I’ve learned to accept that and recognize there’s more than one way to find God.”

“I can hardly believe what I’m hearing,” she whispered.

“Aha!” he said and pointed at her. “You, of all people, giving in to preconceived notions and expecting me to come in here threatening you with eternal damnation for your beliefs just because I’m a Christian minister?”

“You’re right,” she said. “Shame on me.”

“It takes all kinds to make a world, Dori. Now, here. Take this.”

She picked up what he slid across the counter to her. A card with his name, address, phone number. She flipped it and saw a date and time scrawled on the back. “What’s this?”

“Next meeting of the Crescent Cove Interfaith Council. Every pastor, priest and rabbi in the county is a member.” He gave her a wink. “You’ll be our first priestess.”

“You really think they’ll let me in?”

“I’m the president and founder. If I let you in, they’ll let you in. Vermont is a very open-minded state. Now, don’t be offended if some are hesitant. They won’t be once you explain the difference between what your faith really teaches and the ever-popular misconceptions.”

“You say that as if you already know the differences.”

“That’s because I do. A man in my position can’t afford to be ignorant or uninformed.” He tapped the card in her hand. “We meet in the rec center out by the lake. Neutral ground.”

“That’s walking distance from my place.”

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