Mother Daughter Tensions Rise in Small Town with New Minister in Town Terri took the farthest possible seat from her Mother during dinner. The dining room had been decked out with checkered curtains, and adorned with fresh flowers cut out of the garden. There was a new centerpiece. "And then he turned to us and said "Private Flynn, I know you're hiding a litter of puppies in this camp, and if I find it, you're eating them."" The other boarders burst into laughter. Flynn laughed alongside them. The big man had a clerical collar on, and slicked back dark hair, but nothing else about him seemed at all like a churchman. So far he had dominated the conversation with stories of his pre-God days in Korea. The big room was nearly full with tenants. Of the other four, two were solidly-built construction men working on the factory. Two more were young female lawyers or accountants working as support staff. They wore nice ironed blouses and had pulled their hair into business-like buns. "I felt bad about breaking regs, but the poor thing had just pushed out octuplets when I found her. Found good homes for all of them!" He gnawed on a leg of fried chicken. So did Terri. She was ravenous. The emaciated blonde hadn't eaten anything after one last morning bowl of cereal in the dorms. Her Mom's cooking had dramatically improved. Previously the microwave had been the centerpiece of her skills. Now she had churned out an entire fried chicken, mountains of dripping mashed potatoes, and a second plate of scalloped spuds "because I had extras." Terri inhaled three drumsticks and examined the man who had taken her room. Mom barely sat down, flitting back and forth with dishes. The entire time she had a dumb smile on her face. "How long ago did you join the Ministry, Reverend Flynn?" One of the lawyers asked. She was a early-30s brunette with calculating eyes. "Spiritually? Eight years, two-hundred-sixty days. Physically? Got ordained, oh, three years ago. And I got to say, this is an easy town. Lots of people who love the lord. Beautiful church, too. Big thing." Reverend Flynn stood up, put his hands on the table, and asked, cheerfully, "Who wants some of my homemade ice cream?" Five hands went up. Including, Terri was surprised to notice, her own. * * * The ice cream had been soft, creamy, and rich. Flynn apparently churned it himself, and had served all of them large mounds. …the next moment changed everything
