The Yada Yada Prayer Group Gets Decked Out (20 page)

Tuesday.
Stu was on the Yada Yada reunion committee. I hadn't heard any plans yet. Sure hoped that left enough time to get it together before New Year's Day.

Amanda reluctantly agreed to “do stockings” after church when the rest of the family arrived for dinner. SouledOut had announced a short worship service at eleven o'clock for this Sunday since it was also Christmas Day, giving families time to do their Christmas morning festivities. I half-wished we could skip church today and just hang out at home . . . until we walked into the storefront sanctuary with five minutes to spare and saw the Sisulu-Smith family surrounded by excited SouledOut members. Some of the younger kids, who couldn't quite remember who these people were, nonetheless seemed fascinated by Nonyameko's curious accent and the boys' dashikis. Every female in the place had her eyes on Nony's beautiful black-and-gold tunic and head wrap she'd worn yesterday to the wedding.

I caught Nony's eye, and she managed to slip away from the clutch of well-wishers. “Good morning, Sister Jodi.” She smiled the same radiant smile I remembered so well. “So.
Ugogo
—grand-mother—has the baby today.”

“No, my mom can't—” I felt my face flush. “Oh. You mean
me
.”

Nony laughed. “Yes, you, Jodi. Wasn't Joshua a junior in high school when we first met? And now he has married our Edesa and handed you a Latina grandchild! So much has happened since we went away.”

“Oh, Nony,” I said, wiping my eyes. “I've missed you so much. Now here you are, and I haven't had even two minutes with you to myself.”

“I have missed you, too, Jodi. You are not teaching this week, correct? We will be packing up our house, but I will slip away one day and we can have lunch, yes?”

She scribbled her new cell phone number on a scrap of paper just as the praise team launched into
“Joy to the world! The Lord is
come!”
The island beat of their rendition had everyone standing, clapping, and praising to the joyous Christmas carol. “Yes, yes, yes,” I whispered, giving Nony a hug with my free arm. Then, baby carrier in tow, I scurried to the seat Denny had saved for me.

BY THE TIME we got home, the succulent smell of roast turkey filled the house. I put everyone to work on dinner and table set-ting. Denny's parents showed up at one o'clock in a taxi, having declined our invitation to come to worship at SouledOut that morning in favor of a leisurely morning at their hotel. Fifteen minutes later, Josh and Edesa, flushed and grinning ear to ear, pulled up in my parents' aging sedan. All that was missing from the gen-eral hubbub as everyone hugged and wished each other “Merry Christmas!” was Willie Wonka's excited barking.

I felt a pang. The old dog had been gone two Christmases now.
Wonka would have loved Gracie,
I thought. He'd always been so protective with Amanda when she was little.

Even though we'd had many hands and laps to take care of Gracie the last eighteen hours, I was relieved when she was back in Edesa's arms. Caring for a grandbaby was going to take some get-ting used to.

At two o'clock, we gathered around the table as an extended family for the first time and lit the white Christmas candle in the middle of our Advent wreath. Denny asked my father to bless the food—a mistake, I thought, since my dad tended to pray not only for every single person at the table, but all the missing family members by name and a list of missionaries too. But finally, the platter of sliced turkey and bowls of bread stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, and fruit salad made the rounds, along with the
requisite cranberry sauce, pickles and olives, and hot bakery rolls, amid much teasing and laughter.

“The Watch Night service your Pastor Cobbs announced this morning sounds interesting,” my father said during a lull. “I didn't realize New Year's Eve had special significance for blacks in this country.”

“Oh?” Harley Baxter heaped seconds of everything on his plate. “New Year's Eve is
party
time in New York, right, Kay?” He winked at his wife.

“Mm. Watch Night service . . . how quaint,” Kay Harley murmured sweetly.

“Yeah, the youth group's been doing most of the planning,” Amanda chimed in. “We're supposed to invite neighborhood teens.”

Josh turned to Edesa. “I wonder . . . do you think we could bring the kids from Manna House that night?”

Sheesh!
I wanted to shake him.
You just got married! You have a
baby already! One thing at a time, kiddo!
But I kept my mouth shut and cleared the table. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered something Nony had said at the time Josh graduated from high school . . .

“God has plans for that young man, Jodi. Not your plans. Don't
stand in his way. I believe God will use your Joshua like the Joshua of
old, to fight a battle that the older generation will not fight.”

“Pie in the living room!” I announced. But in my heart I said,
Okay, Lord. Thanks for reminding me that Josh is Yours, no longer mine.

Opening the stocking gifts was fun. “Who snuck these breath mints in here? Somebody trying to tell me something?” . . . “Sardines! Awriiiight.” . . . “Dad! This ankle bracelet has to be from you.” . . . “A pacifier—no, three pacifiers! Hey, how come these ended up in my stocking instead of Edesa's?”

Both Josh and Edesa seemed delighted by the Christmas ornaments Denny and I had sneaked into their stockings—a “Just Married” bride and groom in Josh's, and a “Baby's First Christmas” in Edesa's.

By the time the stockings were empty, we each had a pile of goodies, both useful and silly, in our laps. I was somewhat bemused by the furry toy mouse I found in my stocking, but no one owned up to it.

Kay and Harley were the first to leave, saying they had a plane to catch at six. We talked my parents into staying over until the next day, in order to drive home by daylight. “Besides, Grandpa, we need your car one more night,” Josh teased. “Chanda George gave us
two
nights at the Orrington, remember? Mom, you and Dad okay with Gracie one more night?”

“Oh, sure,” I said, taking Gracie once more. “Maybe you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but I seem to remember a few old ones.We'll be fine.”

I stood at the bay window and watched them pull away in my parents' car. Then I bent down and kissed the baby's forehead, breathing in the sweet smell of her skin. “But I'm kicking your grandpa out of bed for the two o'clock feeding, kiddo,” I murmured.

BY THE TIME I got Gracie fed, changed, burped, rocked, and finally down in the porta-crib, Denny and my parents had all the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and leftovers put away. Amanda dis-appeared into her room with the phone—to José, no doubt—and my parents said they were tired and wanted to retire early.

“Are we alone?” Denny asked. I was curled up on the couch with a mug of hot peppermint tea, enjoying a “Christmas Around the World” CD.

“Mm.” I patted the couch cushions beside me. “Come sit, enjoy the tree.”

“Uh, be there in just a minute.” He disappeared.

A few moments later, I heard footsteps above my head in Stu's apartment.
What in the world?
I knew Stu and Estelle weren't home yet . . . what was Denny doing up there?

The back door banged shut, then Denny poked his head into the living room. “Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close your eyes!”

I closed them. What was he up to?

“Okay. You can look.”

I opened my eyes. A cardboard box shaped like a house sat under the Christmas tree. A box with holes in it. Soft scratching and a mewing sound came from inside.

“Denny! What—?” I was at the tree in three steps. I opened the box and peered inside. Two small kittens peered up at me. “Oh, Denny,” I breathed.

I reached inside and lifted out both kittens, one in each hand. One was mostly black with white paws, a white muzzle, with a black splotch on its nose. The other was a calico—orange and black and white splotches from head to tail.

“Oh, Denny,” I said again, burying my face into their soft fur. The black-and-white one licked my chin.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” Denny said softly.

19

J
osh and Edesa arrived early the next morning to pick up Gracie so my parents could get on the road. While Denny was delivering them to the Hickman Hilton, as we dubbed their tiny apartment, along with the porta-crib, J a stash of wedding presents, and turkey leftovers, I called Ruth to wish her Happy Hanukkah.

The eight-day Jewish Festival of Lights began the day after Christmas that year. But of course I couldn't resist telling her about Denny's surprise—especially when both of them were tumbling around my feet, playing with the shoelaces on my gym shoes.

“He what? Gave you a kitten? What kind of
mishigas
is that?”

I giggled. “
Two
kittens. He figured two would keep each other company when we have to be away at work. He conspired with Stu, who had them penned up in her bathroom for two days. But you should see them, Ruth. They're adorable.”

“Adorable, schmorable. Twice the trouble, Jodi.
Oy vey
. I should know. Some potato latkes you should make for Hanukkah. Or honey puffs. A good recipe I have—Isaac! No! Put that box down! . . . ” Ruth's voice faded into the distance, accompanied by much squealing. Then I heard a screech. “Havah, stop! Stop! . . . Ben, catch her! . . .
Oy gevalt!
Not on the rug!” The phone went dead.

I grinned at the phone. Potato latkes sounded good. I'd ask for the recipe when I called back later. Much later.

Amanda came into the kitchen and swooped up the calico kit-ten. “Mom! You
have
to call this one Patches. How about Peanut for the black one? Patches and Peanut, that's cute. But do you
have
to keep the litter box in the bathroom? Gross.”

“Hm. Maybe we'll keep it in your bedroom, 'Manda. After all, you're not there much . . . ”

She rolled her eyes and muttered, “Better not.”

I knew now why Denny had waited until Christmas night to give me his surprise. Patches and Peanut (well, why not?) were, well, three-month-old
kittens,
getting into
everything.
No dust bunny, pant leg, scrap of paper, or bare toe was off-limits as far as they were concerned.
It moves! Pounce on it!

In spite of their antics, the week after Christmas felt like a long soak in a Japanese spa after the mad scrabble events of last week—not to mention the surprise arrival of the Sisulu-Smiths. Which reminded me . . .

I called Nony's cell phone to see when we could get together for lunch, and we settled on Thursday at the Heartland Café. “I hear we are planning a Yada Yada reunion, a ‘big splash,' to use Chanda's words.” Nony seemed hesitant. “I do not want to spoil any plans, but . . . to tell you the truth, my sister, I would treasure getting together with just my Yada Yada sisters to share, to pray, to worship as we did for two years before I went home to South Africa.”

My mind scrambled. I hadn't heard yet from the “reunion committee” about the plans for Sunday, but Chanda had pushed for a big party with kids and spouses, party clothes,music and dancing—

Which is exactly what we did at the wedding reception!
When planning the reunion, we hadn't expected Nony's family to arrive in time for the wedding. But now . . .

“Sounds good to me, Nony. I'll pass that along. See you Thursday!”

Yikes.
Who was on the committee? Adele, Chanda, Avis, Stu . . . Stu. I'd heard footsteps walking around upstairs earlier. She and Estelle must be home by now. I'd tell Stu and let her handle it.

I ducked out the back door without a jacket and up the outdoor steps to the second floor apartment. Estelle must have heard me coming because she opened the door before I even knocked. “Get in here, girl. Where's your coat? My bones are creaking bad enough without seeing you freezing out there. Sit down. I was just making some hot tea. How are you makin' out with them baby cats?”

“That's right. You guys were in on the surprise. I love 'em! They are so cute.”

“Good. Because they are
not
coming back up here. Now go on, sit.”

I sat.
Sheesh
. It felt so good just to sit and drink tea with Stu and Estelle, no papers to grade, no wedding to plan, no holiday dinner to cook. We chatted for half an hour before I remembered what I had come up for. I told them what Nony had said about the reunion, and saw Stu and Estelle exchange looks.

“What?”

Stu grinned. “Great minds think alike. Estelle and I had the same thought coming home from Indianapolis—that we already had our blowout party at the wedding reception! Nothing against the hubbies and kids, but . . . what we need now is time to get down with our sisters.” Stu sat back and grinned. “At least we can blame the change on a request from Nony.”