A pastoral visit to Mrs. Patterson

"All right, I'll go with the sense of the congregation for that one," Henry said. "All done?" he asked his wife, and winked.

Dorothy brushed back her long hair and looked at a bright pink sticky note on the appointment calendar. "Oh dear, one more thing," she said. "I'm sorry, Henry, but we can't actually go upstairs. You have a pastoral visit."

Henry nodded. "Never done," he said, quoting the old adage. "The assistant pastor couldn't make it?"

Dorothy spread her hands. "Mrs. Patterson wasn't having anyone but you," she said.

Henry smiled ruefully. "That's what I get for bringing her the Good News," he said. But his penis twitched and started swelling. Along with tea, cookies, and discussions of spiritual and personal business going over familiar ground, a pastoral visit to Mrs. Patterson invariably called for intimate service.

"Oh, you old faker," Dorothy said. "Get along with you."

Henry took the car key from the hook. "Did Mrs. Patterson say if there was a particular subject to discuss?"

"Well, probably she wants to bend your ear on Patience and Serafina," Dorothy said. "She's finally satisfied that if the pastor's daughter is set on marrying another woman, that it really ought to be in her father's church. But she didn't mention that as something she wanted to talk about."

Henry smiled. "I wonder if it's about the church not proselytizing enough. But that's not the way we do it."

Dorothy laughed. "It's sure to be something," she said. "And I'm sure you'll find a way to satisfy her."

Henry adjusted his trousers. "I'll do my best."

"Maybe she's finally open to the idea that there's more than one position for a man to cleave to a woman," Dorothy quipped.

"What was good enough for Adam and Eve," Henry said.

"Give her my love," Dorothy said.

"I'll do that," Henry said. He headed out to the car.