“Why does Stuart Shackleton want to meet with me?” Thurston demanded. It was late on a chilly Saturday, and Evan had stopped by the parsonage on his way to the hospital.
“No idea,” Evan shrugged. “But you can bet it’s transactional. I never had a meeting with him when he didn’t make a request.”
The old pastor smiled. “Evan, haven’t you learned by now that all human relations are transactional?”
“What about unconditional love? Doesn’t it go just one way?”
Thurston chuckled. “Not at all. If I love you unconditionally, I’m giving myself a huge gift. I won’t lose sleep worrying about whether you’re going to do something stupid.”
Evan’s voice softened when he said, “Marcus, you’ve worried about all of us for a living, and now that you’ve retired, you haven’t managed to stop. Please don’t.”
