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Authors: Neta Jackson

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BOOK: Stand by Me
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“Who, me?” Nick grinned innocently and stuffed his mouth with a loaded nacho.

They finally cleaned off the plate of nachos and leaned back with their refills of soda and water. “We should talk about Saturday,” Kat said. “Josh Baxter—he's about your age, Nick, except he's married and has a little girl—told us to call if we got the apartment and let him know when to show up here with the church van.”

“Decent of him,” Nick noted. “I was wondering how we were going to get all our stuff up to Rogers Park.”

“At least we don't have to furnish the apartment ourselves.” Brygitta cupped her chin in her hand and sighed dreamily. “I mean, it's got everything! Dishes, silverware, pots and pans, a TV, DVD player—”

“Yeah, but I remember your parents had to rent a U-Haul trailer to get all your stuff to campus.” Kat gave Brygitta a playful shove. “We're going to need every inch of that big van.” She looked around the table. “So when can we be packed and ready? Ten? Eleven?”

“Make it noon,” Brygitta groaned. “I'm going to need all the time I can get after my class on Friday.”

Nick shrugged. “Fine by me.”

Kat looked at Olivia. “Livie? Is noon okay for you?”

Olivia cleared her throat. “Um, can we back up a little?” She tipped her head toward the counter, where the undergrad who'd waited on them was making milk shakes for a couple of new customers. “I've been thinking . . . I mean, if that guy over there is seriously interested in staying in Chicago this summer, maybe he should take my place. Would still be four people.”

The other three stared at her.

Kat found her voice. “I thought you'd decided to go in with us, Livie. You said you really liked the apartment. You even told Mrs. Candy you'd love to take care of her plants.”

Nick frowned. “Livie. You did talk to your mom, didn't you?”

Olivia shrank into her corner. “Well . . . I was planning to—after I saw the apartment, I mean. But . . .”

“Livie!” Kat sputtered, but Nick held up his hand.

“Wait, Kat. Livie, I—we—don't want you to feel coerced into staying here this summer if you feel you need to go home. We want you—but only if
you
want to.”

“Nick's right,” Brygitta chimed in. “If not, we'll just divide the rent three ways.” She eyed Kat. “Right, Kat?”

Three ways! Kat swallowed. That would be pretty tight—and none of them had jobs yet. And she
didn't
want to ask her dad for rent money, though he'd be good for it. No, she wanted to do this on her own terms.

Still . . . they were right. She nodded slowly in agreement.

“Good.” Nick leaned forward. “Hey, remember the message on Sunday? You know, when Pastor Clark talked about where-two-or-three-are-gathered-together kind of prayers? Something we haven't done yet is pray about this apartment thing.”

“Of course we've been praying!” Brygitta cut in. “At least I have.”

“I know. I mean, pray
together
about it. Like Jesus talked about.”

“Help us out, Preacher Boy.” Kat pointed at Nick's backpack. “Got your Bible in there? Maybe you can show us what you're talking about.”

“All right, all right.” He dug in his backpack and brought out a beat-up New Testament. “It's Matthew 18, I think . . . yeah, here it is. ‘I tell you'—this is Jesus talking—‘that if two of you on earth agree about anything you ask for, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them.' ”

Kat frowned. “
Anything
we ask? It
will
be done?” She shook her head. “I realize I'm kind of new at this, but . . . that's kind of a stretch, isn't it?”

“But Nick has a point,” Brygitta said. “We should be praying in unity—or praying for unity—about this.”

Nick stuck his Bible into the backpack. “Exactly. Why don't we pray
with
Livie that she'll know what to do and have peace about it? And that the rest of us will have peace about her decision too.”

Olivia glanced nervously around the café. “You mean . . . right now? Here?”

Kat shrugged and grinned. “I'm in. Who's going to mind? Apron-Guy over there? He's too busy playing chief cook and dishwasher. Nick, this was your idea. You start.”

Kat was brushing her teeth that evening when she heard Brygitta holler, “Who is it?” Kat turned off the water in the bathroom sink and listened. Who was bothering them at this hour? She was tired and wanted to fall into bed.

“Livie!” she heard Brygitta say. “Are you okay?”

Olivia? Kat hurriedly spit out the toothpaste, rinsed her mouth, and flew back into the room. The younger girl stood in the middle of their room, a windbreaker thrown over her pajamas, clutching a sheet of paper.

“Livie! What is it?” Kat pulled their friend down into a three-way huddle on Brygitta's bed.

Olivia groaned. “E-mail from my sister, Elin. She's just finishing eleventh grade.” Olivia thrust the paper at Brygitta. “You read it.”

“O-
kay.
” Brygitta scanned the e-mail, eyes widening.

“Aloud!” Kat demanded.

“Okay, okay . . . ‘Dear Livie, I am so bleeping mad! Mom's got a new boyfriend. Name's Gilly Henderson. He's, like, ten years younger than Mom.
I hate him!
He's here all the time, lying around, drinking and belching. He gives me the creeps—' ”

Olivia hugged a pillow to her chest as Brygitta read.

“ ‘—But Mom is all gaga—you know, some man is actually paying attention to her. But he's real mouthy, bosses me around all the time. I haven't told Mom yet, but I am NOT going to stay here with him around. I already asked Aunt Gerty if I could come stay with her and Uncle Ben in Madison as soon as school is out, and she said yes. She met the guy and doesn't like him either. I'm just warning you, Livie—you
don't
want to be in this house this summer, or you'll go nuts! Want me to ask Aunt Gerty if you can come too? How long will you be in Chicago? Maybe I'll come visit you. It's not that far from Madison, is it? That'd be fun. Love you, your sis, Elin.'”

Brygitta looked up. “Whoa. You didn't know anything about this new boyfriend, Livie?”

Olivia shook her head.

“Arrgh. Sounds like a loser. I'm so sorry, Livie.” Brygitta tossed the e-mail on the bed. “Your mom's in Minneapolis, right? So where's Madison? Like Madison, Wisconsin? That's not very far from Chicago—only a few hours, don't you think, Kat?”

But Kat wasn't thinking about Madison, Wisconsin. She picked up Olivia's e-mail and read it again, her thoughts tumbling. This was bad news for Livie and her sister. And yet . . . did she dare say it?

She reached out and touched Olivia's arm hugging the pillow. “Livie, remember how we prayed together a few hours ago, that God would make it clear where you should be this summer? I think you just got your answer.”

Chapter 18

A
vis pushed aside the pile of paperwork she'd just finished and glanced at the wall clock. Two twenty. School would be out in another forty minutes. Next Monday was Memorial Day—a long holiday weekend coming up. But she still had a meeting at three thirty to talk about the Summer Tutoring and Enrichment Program at Bethune Elementary.

Opening the folder marked STEP, she studied the list of proposed offerings.

Tutoring in Math and English

Mentorships

Art Classes

Sports Clinics

City Culture Day Trips

None of which were funded by the Chicago Board of Education, except for the cost of keeping the building open—lights, air, and janitorial services.

A flutter of excitement, like sugar in the blood, gave her a boost of energy, even though by this time on a Friday she was usually ready for a long weekend nap. Summer sessions abounded at local high schools, middle schools, and park programs. But the summer program at Bethune Elementary had been her brainchild, and last summer had been the maiden voyage. She'd pounded the pavement soliciting donations from local businesses to fund tutors, coaches, supplies, and transportation. Her winning mantra: “STEP is a win-win investment. Keeping kids occupied keeps them off the street.”

The letter from the school board two weeks ago had shaken her confidence about running STEP a second time. What if they closed the school halfway through the summer? But just this week, after the spine-strengthening prayers of her Yada Yada sisters, she'd resolved to move forward. “Don't let that ol' devil discouragement gain another inch of territory,” Estelle Bentley had told her. “He's defeated already. Just doesn't know it yet.”

Remembering Estelle's comment, Avis smiled as she pulled a few more files to take to the meeting. The Yada Yada Prayer Group had sparked a few unusual weddings in their seven short years. Estelle Williams's and Harry Bentley's was the most recent—a match that had to be made in heaven, because no matchmaker on earth would have put those two together! Both had been around the block a few times and had a few gray hairs to show for it. Harry was an ex-cop—“ex” because he'd had to take early retirement after blowing the whistle on some rogue cops—and he'd fallen hard for the Manna House cook at a shelter Fun Night.
Their
surprise wedding had taken place on a Sunday morning at SouledOut, right in the middle of the worship service.

She and Peter, though, both in their fifties, had been the first over-the-hill wedding, jumping the broom at what used to be Uptown Community Church before the merger into SouledOut. The Friendship Quilt the Yada Yadas had made for that occasion hung on the wall of their bedroom.

On the other end of the age spectrum, Jodi and Denny Baxter's college son, Josh, had fallen for Edesa Reyes, one of their Yada Yada sisters, even though the pretty Honduran girl was a few years older. Now
that
was a wedding for the books. They'd tied the knot at the homeless shelter, no less! Edesa and Josh had both been volunteering at Manna House when a crack mother, found dead of an overdose, left a note saying if anything happened to her, she wanted Edesa to raise her baby. Just engaged, Josh felt called to move their wedding date up so baby Gracie could have a daddy too—just like Joseph of old had been told by the angel of the Lord to go ahead, marry the virgin Mary and be daddy to baby Jesus. And a Christmas wedding at that.

Speaking of babies . . . Ruth and Ben Garfield were already married but childless when Yada Yada started—and then Ruth delivered
twins
just before her fiftieth birthday!

Avis shook her head, laughing silently. Nothing boring about the Yada Yadas.

Hmm. Wonder who's next?
They had several singles in Yada Yada: Yo-Yo, Stu, Becky, and Hoshi—though Hoshi had moved to Boston. Even Chanda and Adele.

Mm. Probably won't be Adele
. She'd rule the roost like a drill sergeant, same as she did at her beauty salon . . . which reminded her. She needed to make an appointment to get her hair done tomorrow morning, since Peter was taking her out for her birthday in the evening.

The last school bell rang just as Avis got off the phone with Adele's Hair and Nails. As she often did, she walked out into the hallway and stood near the double doors leading outside, saying good-bye to the children, calling most by name, telling some to slow down, have a good holiday, walk don't run, see you next Tuesday!

Waiting until the hallways cleared and the handicap buses had loaded and left, Avis went back to her office, gathered up her notebook and relevant folders, and stopped by the main office to tell the school secretary the STEP meeting would be in the teachers' lounge—except the secretary was nowhere to be seen. Didn't she work at least until four?

Walking briskly down the hall, Avis pulled on the door to the teachers' lounge, but it was stuck—or locked. She knocked. “Who is it?” came a muffled voice.

“Avis Douglass! Why is this door locked?” She was going to have a word or two with whoever locked this door. People were still coming!

The door clicked and opened. Denny Baxter, Jodi's husband, whom she'd recruited to run a sports clinic twice a week, stood aside. “Sorry about that,” he said. “Come on in, Madame Principal.”

BOOK: Stand by Me
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