Let It Shine by Alyssa Cole Read Free Book Online

by her response.
    “I’ll be waiting,” he said.

Chapter 6
    Dragging your feet wasn’t very ladylike, but Sofie was second-guessing her decision as she walked down the tree-lined street leading up to the Friedmans’ house. She didn’t want to see Ivan and his mother and be reminded of all that she’d lost—and what more she might lose if her father continued to greet her with a stony silence.
    She hated that a part of her was looking forward to being visiting the scene of the most awful moment of her life. She’d never returned after her mother’s death; that meant she’d never gotten to taste Mrs. Friedman’s delicious food again, or to tell her how Mama had loved the challenge of mastering the specialized cuisine.
    She rang the bell, then adjusted the plate of cookies she had baked the night before when thoughts of Ivan and sit-ins and bloodied students had stolen her sleep. She often turned to the comfort of her mother’s recipe box when she was unsettled. She knew it was strange, but the notes were so detailed she felt like her mother had channeled some of herself into those family secrets, as if she had known that she wouldn’t be around to show Sofie just how long to simmer the collards or how much sugar she meant by “to taste.” Sofie sometimes pretended her Mama was with her as she whisked and chopped and folded, only it didn’t always feel like pretend.
    Ivan pulled the door open then, and the smile Sofie had plastered on crumbled away. He stood before her freshly showered and smelling of ninety-nine point forty-four percent pure goodness. His hair was still wet, his face freshly shaved. That was all well and good, but her gaze was drawn to his body: the ropy muscles of his arms, the broad chest—Sofie’s lingering sense of decorum didn’t allow her to look any further down than that.
    “Hey! Come on in.” He stood aside, and she was forced to pass close to the warmth that radiated off him. She didn’t know why he was affecting her this way. She’d been close to him more than once already, but there had been other people around before. The delicious smell of onions and garlic was emanating from the kitchen, and she realized it was Friday. His mother was probably making the stew for Shabbos. His mother or whomever they had hired in place of hers. Sofie felt a little bit nauseated at the thought of stepping into the kitchen and seeing another black woman working there, as if her mother were easily replaceable.
    “I made some cookies,” she said. “Is your mother in the kitchen? I can bring them in to her.”
    The door slammed shut and the effortless sex appeal Ivan had exuded shifted as he hunched in on himself. He cleared his throat. “Mom died two years ago. Cancer.”
    “Oh! Oh.” Tears pressed at her eyes suddenly. She hadn’t seen Mrs. Friedman in years but the news still hurt. Another part of her childhood, gone. Ivan been there for her in those awful moments when she’d lost her own mother. Who had been there for him?
    She lifted a hand, but it hung in the air between them, not quite able to span the distance. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
    He nodded, then lifted the plate of cookies from her other hand and walked toward the kitchen. She followed behind him, searching for something to say to make up for her atrocious error. She was surprised to see him place the cookies on the table, pick up a large knife, and begin chopping potatoes. Her arrival had obviously interrupted him. “Sorry. I just need to throw this stuff into the slow cooker. Dad still hasn’t learned how to make cholent, and if I don’t cook it, he just won’t eat tomorrow.”
    She pulled up a seat at the kitchen island, warding off memories of so many years before. It was strange to remember the young, frail Ivan who would sit next to her at this very counter and listen to her mother’s stories as she looked at him before her, all grown up and cooking for the family himself. “That’s nice of