Sisters with a Side of Greens by Michelle Stimpson

Author:Michelle Stimpson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks

CHAPTER 16

Rose

Elizabeth and I texted a few more times early that week. She even added me to her message group, where she shared an encouraging message every morning. Sometimes twice a day. The other people in the group, I gathered mostly women, replied with smiley faces and hearts and thanks. If I hung around that group long enough, I’d be a successful business owner, too.

Now that we had all the seasoning ingredients, and Marvina had Kerresha settled into her room good, my sister finally tapped on my door and asked if I was ready to re-create Momma’s seasoning together. The Wednesday-morning invitation came unexpectedly. “You ready to prep the spices?”

I sat up in bed, closed out the card game I’d been playing on my phone. “We won’t be done in time for you to go to church tonight.” My sister was a midweek-service kind of chick, and, honestly, I was wondering when she’d start hounding me about going to church on Wednesday nights, too.

“I’m not going to church tonight.” She offered no explanation, only a somber, tired expression. “You coming to the kitchen or not?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She left me to myself for a minute. As I stuffed my feet into a pair of fluffy, pink house shoes, I wondered if this was the end. Would she expect me to leave once I’d perfected the recipe again? Was she sharing this with me because she’d decided to leave the church for good? And if she was leaving Greater New Harvest, how would Marvina find her worth again?

Already, I heard cabinet doors opening and shutting, so I lifted off the bed, dropped my phone into my purse, and joined my sister in her kitchen. Seeing the strings of her threadbare apron disappear into the rolls of fat at her waist put me at ease. Reminded me of Momma. Plump and hot and working her magic in the kitchen.

I washed my hands in the sink and tied the second apron around myself as well. This one seemed newer; it hadn’t seen nearly as many hours of work as Marvina’s.

She rolled out a sheet of wax paper on a countertop. Four candy apple–shaped canisters stood at attention to witness the recipe come together. If these apples could talk, they’d sell Momma’s recipe to the highest bidder.

“You remember what we start with?” she quizzed me.

I clicked my cheek at her kindergarten question. “With making the garlic powder, of course.”

“Well, I’m glad you remember something of Momma’s.”

My fist propped on my hip. “I remember a lot about Momma. Different versions of the same stories, obviously.”

Marvina stood to my left, giving her full view of the counter. She and I peeled the garlic, cut it into thin slivers, and laid them flat on a silicone mat on top of a cookie sheet. She slid the first batch of garlic into the oven.

“What exactly is your problem with Momma? Before the adultery, before David, before you went to college, and even before my accident, you turned on her. What got into your mind, Rose? Every time I looked around, y’all were arguing.

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