Prejudice 13 “Was that necessary?” I said to Grady as I sat down behind Tricia’s desk. “Do you anticipate a posse of parents barging in to demand the lurid details?” I opened a lower drawer and feigned surprise. “Would you look at that? Tricia left us a libation. I don’t know about you, but I’ve had a long day. There’s only one cup. Why don’t you look in the kitchen for another one?” I took out the half-empty bourbon bottle and poured myself a wee shot, then sat back and smiled at him. I wasn’t apprehensive. Even the mildest-mannered bookseller can take down a choir director in a bow tie. Grady leaned against the door. “There’s no one else in the building, and there won’t be a service tonight because of the holiday, but it’s a habit. Tricia always ordered me to lock the door so we wouldn’t be interrupted if she…” He motioned at the bottle. “Dealing with teens is stressful. I only took this job to get the paycheck. I’d like to end up with a large congregation with adults who can sing.
