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I’m going to suggest that each of the five churches contribute exactly one-fifth of your support. Executive Director Johnson says the denomination will throw in a little for expenses. Um, you look dubious, Reverend.”
    “Oh, I generally prefer to stay out of such things, Paul. But I’ve never been ‘shared’ like this before, so I’m in new territory. I just wonder if the smaller bodies will feel it’s fair.”
    “Well, you tell me, Pastor Tom. Do you plan to give us more time, more of your week, more of your work?”
    Thomas hadn’t been called Tom for thirty years. “No, actually Grace and I feel it would be best if I really tried to give each body the equivalent of a full day a week, then have one study day, and one off day.”
    Paul stood and moved to the window, his back to Thomas. “You know, that actually sounds like a fine plan. ’Course, you know what it does, though, don’t you? It supports my idea that everybody pays equally.”
    Thomas wasn’t so sure, but it was certainly too early to start rocking the boat.
    Paul turned to face him. “Now, what did you think of Patricia’s idea of an oversight committee consisting of us two couples?”
    Patricia’s idea? And just the two couples?
    Thomas cleared his throat. “Frankly, Paul, I’d wait on that. Let me meet the leaders from each body and—”
    “Fair enough. Put it on the back burner for now. But at least let me take you to each church and introduce you.”
    “I guess that would be okay, as long as they know I come under the auspices of the denomination and that they aren’t, you know, under the authority of this church.”
    Paul headed for the door, and Thomas rose. Paul threw an arm around him and pulled him close. “That’s some good thinking, Tom. We’re going to work well together, you and me.”
    That evening the two couples enjoyed dinner; then Paul insisted they watch baseball on television. Neither Thomas nor Grace—certainly not Grace—followed baseball, and Thomas was antsy to get a little time alone before Sunday morning.
    When the hour grew late, he finally begged off, though it was clear this befuddled the Pierces. “You know the game is tied and will likely go into extra innings.”
    “Yes, I’ll be eager to hear in the morning how it ended.”

6
    Monday | Backstage, Little Theater | Forest View High School
    Brady had seen Clancy Nabertowitz only from a distance. He was thick and seemed robust for a short man, sporting a full shock of curly hair and a loud bow tie.
    “Auditions begin in twenty minutes, young man. I can give you exactly half of that.”
    They sat in dim light on either side of a folding table amid the ropes and pulleys. Brady explained that Coach Roberts had suggested he look into drama.
    “Well, he ought to know,” Mr. Nabertowitz chirped. “Have you ever seen anyone so animated on the sidelines? I’d love to see what he could do onstage. But regardless, why you? Wait, don’t tell me. Omigosh, I hope you can act. We’ll find out soon, won’t we?”
    “I don’t know. I—”
    “Of course we will. Unless you’re just wasting my time. You’re here to audition, right?”
    “I didn’t even know today was—”
    “Well, you’re here. Listen, you have to know I don’t get—don’t take this wrong—‘your kind’ here often. Ever, actually. Is it a look, just for today? You trying out for the role of Conrad Birdie, or—?”
    “Like I said, I didn’t know. But I’d rather try drama than football, so . . .”
    “Experience?”
    “You mean in drama?”
    “What else? You’re, what, a senior?”
    “Junior.”
    “You look so old, and you have that ethnic thing happening, almost Italian. Are you Italian?”
    “Not that I know of.”
    “Dark skin. Fast beard growth, am I right?”
    Brady nodded.
    Nabertowitz seemed to study him. His delivery slowed. “You know what I’d do with you? I’d lose the ’burns, and you could play much older. You could be the dad. I mean, you look like