She surprised herself. She was going on a date with a cop. Cleansed by Fire. Chapter 8 – 2

More chapters from Cleansed by Fire

A VG Serial: Cleansed by Fire

Chapter 8 – 2

As they approached, Father Frank could hear Georgia’s take charge tone, talking with another parishioner.

“We’ll lay out the committees you need and an outline of the first couple of meetings. Then, you contact people whom you believe will be good committee chairpersons. We can get the first part done this week. I’ll help you. It’ll be fun.”

The woman offered her thanks and left.

“Georgia,” Father Frank began. “This is Mike Oakley, a Detective with the Pine Tree Police Department. Mike, this is Georgia Peitz.”

They exchanged pleasantries and then Mike said, “Would you like to go out to dinner with me tonight?”

A tiny smile crossed her face, and Georgia, whom Father Frank had never known to be at a loss for words, said nothing.

Mike pushed forward. “It’s got to be okay. Your priest introduced us. He’ll vouch for me. So will the police department. And my mother. What kind of restaurants do you like?”

“Ah, well, ah, places with good fresh vegetables,” she stammered.

“How does seven-thirty sound? Or would you prefer six-thirty? Your choice.”

Father Frank had managed to keep from laughing out loud. But he decided he couldn’t restrain himself much longer. “I think I’ll run along.”

Georgia’s eyebrows shot up. “No. Don’t leave yet, Father.”

“I won’t bite,” said Mike, looking amused.

Georgia was clearly flustered. “No, no. I didn’t mean that. I mean, I need to talk with Father Frank about some parish business.”

“Fine,” said Mike. “Six-thirty or seven-thirty?”

“Seven-thirty.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty. Until then.”

Mike turned and strode off, with a spring in his step Father Frank had not noticed earlier. He and Georgia watched the young officer cross to his car, get in and drive off.

“What did I just do?” Georgia asked, her emerald eyes open wide.

“I’d say you just accepted a date.”

“I guess I did.” She tilted her head to one side. “I haven’t done that in a long, long time. Since maybe two years before Leo and I married.”

“Maybe it’s time you did. And Mike seems like a nice per­son. But then, I don’t really know much about him. And I am not endorsing him, contrary to what he said. You’re on your own there.”

“Thanks a lot.” She frowned and looked at the priest. “He didn’t ask me where I live.”

“He is a detective, Georgia. If he can’t find you, I’ll be disappointed in him.”

“What a day. I’ve just agreed to help organize a Prince of Peace Ladies’ Guild, we’ve got a final practice before the POP­sters’ first public performance, and now I think I just accepted a date, ah, an invitation for dinner.”

“There’s no ‘think’ about it. You accepted. A policeman will be coming to pick you up. Maybe in a squad car, with lights flashing. Maybe the siren blaring. Who knows?” The priest grinned. “And the proper word is ‘date’, Georgia. Not ‘invitation.’ You’re going on a date.”

A horn honked, and both turned to see Dan Zimmerman in his Ranger, sitting behind the Taurus with its four flat tires.

“There’s my ride for the day. Got to run. Good luck to­night,” Father Frank said.

“If you’ll drive me home,” said Dan, “you can have the truck until Monday afternoon.” He got in the passenger side.

Father Frank slid behind the wheel, adjusted the seat back a little farther from the steering wheel and started the truck.

“I hope I won’t need it that long. But thanks. I have a number of visits I need to make today, plus I’ve got to make arrangements to get somebody over here and put on four tires.”

“Got anybody in mind?”

“No. I’m open to suggestions.”

“Well, Vic Lindale—he’s a member of the parish—has a tire shop on Main, next to the carwash. I used him a couple of months ago and was pleased with his work and prices. I’d try him first. If he can’t get to it, there’s a place on two forty-four that can probably take care of you.”

“Thanks. This is a big help.”

“No problem. Turn left at the next corner,” Dan pointed. “Our house is the second one on the right. I told Roger I’d help him move some stuff Monday after he got off work. I don’t need the truck until then.”

Father Frank pulled to stop in front of a neat, white frame house with a lush garden of flowers all across the front. Dan opened the door to get out.

“Just don’t get four flats on my truck.”

Chapters of the serial are published on Monday, Thursday, and Sunday.

You can learn more about Cleansed by Fire and other James H. Callan novels on his Amazon Author Page.

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