Read Online Made of Honor by Marilynn Griffith - Free Book Online

“Tell me what happened with her exactly? I never could get the story straight from Rochelle. She said lupus, but I told her people don’t die from that.”
    “Sandy did.” He stared off in front of us, to the cross suspended overhead. “Some women do. Black women mostly. They don’t always know why.” He whispered the last of it, as though he’d told me a secret, the way I’m sure I sounded when I talked about Mama’s stroke or other senseless things. My mother’s death had shattered me, and though God had healed so much of the hurt, made a mosaic out of my broken pieces, the jagged edges poked me still. Of course they cut Adrian, too, losing as he had: his father, his mother, his wife…
    “You can stop rubbing your head,” I said as he started on his temples again. “The trouble won’t go back into your brain, no matter how big your mind is.”
    He glanced up at me, then nodded with a chuckle. “I suppose it never did much good. Not then or now.” He reached for my hand. “Or maybe it does. Sometimes you think something’s a habit, but later you realize it was more.”
    “Or less.” I pulled away, taking a second to focus on the cross myself. One day back and we were doing it already. Playing games.
    “Right. Well, I’m going to get out of here. Need a ride?”
    I considered it, but no Bible passages came to mind regarding rational interactions with sweet-smelling widowers. “I’ll pass,” I said, nodding toward the downstairs door. “They have to come up sometime. Thanks for asking though.”
    Adrian shook his head. Laughter creaked through his lips. “You sound sincerely afraid of me.”
    I didn’t crack a smile. “I am.”
     
    “I’ll take two vanilla lotions, a shower tower of soap…lavender, a fruit cocktail mask and—”
    I stared up at Renee, my assistant and default member of the Sassy Sistahood. Times like this I regretted indulging her request to join the loop. Too much information for coworkers. Well, then there was Tracey, who I’d worked with and lived with, but that didn’t count.
    It was too Monday for this, especially after the weekend I’d had. Sure I was flattered that Renee wanted to order everything on my little product menu, but how many times had I told her to keep that stuff out of the office?
    My desktop rebooted. “Renee, you’ll have to e-mail your order to me or leave it on my answering machine at home.” I dropped my voice to a whisper. “I’m on company time now.”
    Raking a long purple nail across her chin, Renee nodded. “Naomi is gone. I made sure of that before I came over. Don’t worry. I got your back.”
    Had my back? This wasn’t sixth grade. I turned back to my computer. “I appreciate that, Renee, but it’s not just about Naomi. It’s me, too. I don’t want any confusion. While I’m here, my mind is on S&S products, not mine.”
    In theory, anyway. I could harness my transactions, but truth be told, my mind did wander back to my dining room and all my new supplies every half hour or so. At least.
    Renee pursed her blue-black lips and ran a hand through her brunette hair, laced with skunk stripes of blond. “Oh. Trying tobe Miss Clean, are we? Well, I won’t bother to close all those files you leave open every night with all your notes and recipes then.”
    I opened my mouth to say something and shut it again.
    “Gotcha,” she said, extending her index finger.
    What could I do but smile? I didn’t mean to do that, scribble in those digital notepads, but when an idea came to me, I needed to write it down…didn’t I?
    Do not work unto man, but as unto the Lord.
    My chest tightened. Wasn’t it enough that I’d stopped taking home all the pens and folders? This Christian thing. There was always something else to work on. So far, I’d only mastered pants up, man out and a few other basics.
    “You’re right, Renee. I’ll have to try and hold those thoughts until my break or—” As I pulled up my e-mail and scanned the first