Stand by Me by Neta Jackson Read Free Book Online

you goose . . . Watch that bus turning in.” Kat and Nick walked swiftly up the sidewalk along the busy street, Brygitta and Olivia close on their heels. A block later they turned into a large parking lot surrounded by stores, including a large Dominick’s store that anchored the mall at the far end.
    â€œWhere’s the church?”
    Kat refused to be annoyed by Olivia’s anxious questions. “Right over there. Told you it was in a mall.”
    As they crossed the parking lot, they could see the sign painted in lively red letters across the wide expanse of windows:
    S OULED O UT C OMMUNITY C HURCH
    And beneath in smaller letters, but still large enough to be read from several yards away:
    A LL W ELCOME
    A tickle of excitement quickened Kat’s steps. Cars and minivans were pulling into the parking spaces near the wide storefront, and people of all colors piled out—brown, white, tan—the kids running, parents hollering at them to slow down, teenagers huddling together outside with their iPods. The young Latino couple with the baby Kat had seen on the train also disappeared through the double glass doors.
    â€œWelcome!” boomed a deep voice as they came in. A middle-aged black couple stood just inside the doors, greeting people as they entered. The man held out his hand. “I’m Sherman Meeks, this is my wife, Debra. Your first time at SouledOut?”
    Kat couldn’t exactly shake hands while holding the box. “Hi. I—uh, some of us were here once before. Um . . . Mr. Meeks? Is there someplace I can put this box? It’s food. To give away.”
    â€œFood?” The man blinked, as if he didn’t understand the word.
    â€œOh, honey, our potluck isn’t until next Sunday,” his wife said kindly. “It’s always the second Sunday of the month . . . Oh! Good morning, Edesa. How’s Gracie?” Debra Meeks turned to a pretty black woman breezing in the door, holding the hand of a dark-haired little girl.
    â€œ Buenos Dias , Sister Debra! Gracie, give Señora Meeks a hug.”
    Spanish-speaking? The woman didn’t look Spanish—
    â€œTold you so,” hissed Brygitta, leaning close to Kat’s ear. “Why don’t you guys just . . . just go dump those boxes somewhere and let’s go in.”
    Kat ignored her. She turned back to Mr. Meeks. “Do you have a kitchen here? We could just put these boxes in there for now.”
    â€œOf course, of course.” Mr. Meeks pointed toward a set of double doors on the far side of the room. “Just go through there. You’ll see it on the left.”
    â€œYou guys find a seat, save a couple for us, okay?” Kat whispered to Brygitta and Olivia. “We’ll be right back.” She and Nick threaded their way through the knots of people clustered behind the rows of chairs in the large room, through the double doors, and into the small kitchen on the left of the hallway.
    Kat stopped. Nick’s box bumped into her.
    Someone else was in the kitchen.
    The woman turned. She was older, but it was hard to tell her age. Her skin was flawless. Creamy dark chocolate. Not a wrinkle anywhere. Shiny black hair swept up on top of her head into a cluster of twists. Plum lipstick, a touch of color on her cheekbones. A plum-colored suit, very feminine. Gold hoop earrings. She’d been fixing a cup of tea.
    â€œCan I help you?” Her voice was rich. Dignified. Kat was mesmerized.
    When Kat didn’t answer, Nick spoke up. “Hi. I’m Nick. This is, uh, Kathryn. We, um, brought these vegetables in case some folks here could use them. Free for the taking.”
    The woman took a step or two and peeked into the boxes they were holding. “Vegetables? Where’d they come from?”
    Uh-oh . Kat quickly found her voice. “Dominick’s Food Store. They were going to get thrown out, so they, uh, gave them to us.”
    The woman lifted an eyebrow.