One Sunday at a Time by E. N. Joy

Author:E. N. Joy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: contemporary women, african ameican fiction, drama and tension, christian adult fiction, abuse domestic violence, relationship abuse, inspirational action, contemporary african american, abuse abusive emotional, drama conflict
Publisher: E. N. Joy

Chapter 11

Deborah looked around the Victorian-style house, wondering why it seemed that every home she walked into felt like what she wanted her own home to feel like. Like a home. Deborah wanted a life and a home that she didn’t feel like she had to take a vacation from, but that felt like a vacation instead.

Klarke, who was walking behind Deborah as they followed their host into the kitchen, noticed Deborah eyeballing the home. “Persia did all the interior decorating in her home,” Klarke said to Deborah. “Isn’t she the stuff?”

The introductions had been made between the home owner, Persia, and Deborah when Persia greeted them at the door. Persia was Reo’s best friend’s wife. Every month Klarke made it her business to connect with Persia. Her hope was that Deborah would ultimately find it beneficial to meet with them monthly as well.

“Yes, indeed,” Deborah agreed as they entered the kitchen. “Persia, your lawn is magnificent as well. You definitely know your stuff when it comes to the green stuff.”

Klarke had a little coughing spell and just about choked.

“That’s what they tell me,” Persia replied in a singsongy voice. “Thank you so much for the compliment, Deborah.” Persia escorted her guests over to the kitchen’s center island, which held various appetizers and snacks. “If you need any decorating ideas for your own home, I’m your girl,” Persia said. She popped a grape in her mouth from the fruit platter that was sitting on the island. “You ladies, help yourselves.” She pointed to a stack of small red plates.

“I don’t mind if I do,” Deborah said, grabbing a plate and placing a couple of pieces of fruit on it, some salami, a few crackers, some cheese, and veggies.

“The punch is over there on the counter,” Persia pointed out. She looked at Klarke. “A special ginger ale blend with a hint of sherbet, something I learned from one of the best caterers in the business.” She winked at Klarke.

“Shhh, girl,” Klarke said, putting her index finger on her lips. “I’ll have to kill you if you be telling folks my punch recipe.”

Persia shooed her hand. “I didn’t tell her everything.”

“You told enough,” Klarke said seriously. “Girl, I’m just playing.” She laughed and then followed behind Deborah, placing snacks on her own plate. “So where’s the other girls? Downstairs?” Klarke asked.

“Yep.” Persia gave Klarke a questioning look behind Deborah’s back. Deborah was too busy helping herself to a cup of punch to notice.

Klarke mouthed the words, “Wait a minute,” to Persia as she continued to load up her plate.

“Dang, did you two get the party started without us before you got here? Look at that plate.” Persia pointed to Klarke’s loaded plate. “Or do you just not want to have to make another trip back up here once those side effects kick in?” Persia laughed.

Klarke’s eyes bucked out as she tightened her lips and gave Persia an evil look. “I said wait a minute,” Klarke mouthed harshly.

Persia shrugged her shoulders, not understanding why Klarke was mean mugging her.

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