Page 9 of Too Old for This
“You’re late,” Sheila says.
“And I brought spinach dip.”
Bonnie hands my cup back and wags her finger at me. “Now you’re on Glenda’s shit list.”
“When am I not?”
The next round of the bingo begins. Pastor Doug is running the game this evening, which is a special treat. Normally, it’s Hector, his assistant pastor, who is much younger and louder. Doug usually stands around near the food tables, making small talk with the parishioners.
“N-33!” Doug yells.
“Hector isn’t here tonight,” Sheila says.
“What? Why?”
“Family issue.”
“B-6!”
Even at church, life moves fast. I’m a little late, and I have already missed some gossip.
“I heard his teenage daughter got into a fender bender,” Bonnie whispers.
“G-51!”
“Is she okay?”
“Yes. But apparently they’re having a family meeting tonight.”
A family meeting. I remember those.
My mother loved them. For a while, we had one at least once a month. My father hated them. He never said so, but I saw the way he would clench his jaw or roll his eyes when Mom had her back turned. Once, she caught him, and they had a huge argument. We didn’t have another family meeting.
That was all when I was very young. Things weren’t too bad yet.
“O-68!”
“Bingo!”
“Dammit.” Sheila grabs an eraser and wipes off her cards.
Two more games later and we haven’t won a thing. Sheila came close once. So did I. But close didn’t put any money in our wallets.
Glenda steps to the front of the room and claps her hands, demanding everyone’s attention. As if the floral dress didn’t do that already.
“It’s time for our raffle,” she says. “I hope everyone bought a ticket when they came in, because tonight’s prize is very special. Holey Moley Donuts has donated a gift card for one free donut every week for the next six months!”
Everyone claps, including me, though Bonnie whispers in my ear about the evils of twice-fried dough. But First Covenant is not judgmental except when it comes to alcohol on the premises. They don’t judge anything else, including the food we choose to eat, which is one of the reasons why I like this church.
None of us win the raffle. All that fried dough will go to Janice. She jumps up and runs to the front.
“I have news,” I say.
Bonnie holds up both hands. “If it’s cancer, don’t even say it.”
“Not cancer. It’s Archie.”
They both lean in, sensing juicy gossip. And boy, do I deliver.
