I just don’t get a salary,” she said.“Surely you don’t call being a preacher’s wife a job?” I asked laughing.“I would call it the worlds...toughest job. It would be much easier being the Deacon’s whore,” she said with a big smile.“I heard that,” I said with a smile of my own.We both got quieter as we got closer to home. She even called Michael on the phone before we stopped for gas and hot dogs at a Sheetz gas station. Too soon we were back on the road and the miles began to slip by far too. Mom's hair was slightly wet, as was her white blouse and black business jacket. She explained to me that there is a leak and that she was making tea in the kitchen, which is directly under the bathroom when the ceiling gave in a little. I rushed downstairs to have a look at the damage and was relieved to find that it was only a small patch of the covering of the ceiling and not the entire thing that had come down. I concluded that water must have built up in a small pocket in-between the wooden. More

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