B's phone rings. "Deacon B" appears on the screen. Me: Hi Deacon B! It's A. B is upstairs packing. How are you?
Deacon B: Oh, hi there. I'm doing fine, how are you?
Me: I'm great. I'm so sorry we didn't call yesterday to confirm this afternoon's appointment at the church. We were traveling all day and time got away from us.
Deacon B: Well I bet I was close to you yesterday. I was in Birmingham shopping at the Galleria.
Me: No way! That's wonderful. Well, now that I have you on the phone, are we still on for our appointment in an hour?
Deacon B: Well... I'm not feeling great and I was wondering if it would be too much trouble to reschedule. I hate to mess up your schedules, but I'd hate more to get you sick.
M: Not a problem. I'll have B call you later this week. Feel better, ok?
Deacon B: Ok. Thank you and have a nice afternoon.
Me: Bye.
The cynical side of me dances. We still have no priest and have twice been rescheduled/flat stood up. Granted, I have a soft spot for the sickies right now, so I appreciate him keeping his germs to himself. Just so long as SOMEONE agrees to marry us, I'm good. In the meantime, I figure I've got to be racking up some good points somewhere with all of this. Par for the course, my friends.
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