Turnabout's Fair Play Read Online Free PDF Page B

stopped looking?” Maureen stopped in between two tables displaying a couple dozen games, puzzles, and decks of cards.
    “Something like that. I think everyone would have been content for me to stay on until I keeled over in the pulpit.” Kirby could hear those words echo through his head in Flannery’s mellow alto voice. “So I gave them a date that would be my last day to preach. And that was two weeks ago. Then I took my granddaughter’s advice and skedaddled out of town on the weekends.”
    “Out of town?” Maureen’s ample forehead crinkled in a frown. “You’re not from Nashville?”
    “No—Pulaski. A bit south of Columbia.” As soon as he said it, recognition flashed in Maureen’s eyes, marking the explanation as unnecessary. “I just need to find a more permanent situation than staying in a hotel every weekend.”
    “Your granddaughter can’t house you?” Maureen started walking again toward where everyone was clustered around the refreshments.
    “Her apartment is too small. And with as many hours as she works during the week, I don’t want to infringe on her only downtime.” Though she rarely took weekends off, either. He’d seen the stacks of paperwork on her desk and suspected the computer tablet thing she carried around everywhere with her had work stuff on it, too.
    “What will you find to fill your time? Though I suppose you will want to make sure that you see all of the sights around town, and that will take some time.”
    “I went to the Country Music Hall of Fame this afternoon. And since my granddaughter is tied up all day tomorrow with her best friend’s wedding, I guess I could visit the Frist art museum and the Tennessee State Museum.” He turned his gaze to the table laden with all kinds of baked goods and desserts. His blood sugar spiked just looking at all of it.
    “You don’t sound overly enthusiastic about it, though.”
    He shrugged, struggling to put words to the restless feeling that had been growing in his chest all day. “It’s all well and good to take in the sights and be entertained. But I feel like I should be doing something…useful. Something helpful. Something to make whatever time I have left mean something.”
    At eighty-six, he had long since passed the years of denying his own mortality. No sense in pretending he had decades remaining on his account. Though he didn’t usually like to talk about it.
    “I know what you mean. When I retired from nursing twenty years ago, I almost went crazy feeling like my life had ceased to matter. That’s when I started volunteering at the hospital and the nursing home our church supports. And I try to find a service project for the group each month. So if you’re interested, we’ll be going down to the food bank Monday morning to pack boxes and then over to the women’s and children’s shelter around lunchtime to host a Memorial Day cookout for the residents. We should be finished by three or four o’clock.”
    “I hadn’t planned on staying on through Monday….” He regretted it as soon as he said it. “But I can drive home just as easily after the cookout.”
    Maureen’s eyes sparkled, and her wide smile appeared again. “Do you have access to e-mail while you’re here? I can send you all of the information.”
    He reached for his wallet and pulled out a business card.
    “Doctor Kirby McNeill? Doctor of theology?”
    He shook his head. “Ph.D. in agricultural sciences. I was going to be one of those space-age farmers who improved everything with technology before God got ahold of me and led me to the pulpit. I still keep a vegetable garden, though.”
    “So do I.” She tucked the card into her pocket. “I’ll e-mail you all the particulars when I get home tonight.”
    Apparently deciding she’d kept him to herself long enough, she turned toward the group that had been edging closer and closer down the table toward them and began the introductions.
    She’d asked for his e-mail address. Was that