The Yada Yada Prayer Group Gets Real by Neta Jackson

Author:Neta Jackson [Jackson, Neta]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, ebook, Christian, book, Fiction
ISBN: 9781595544247
Google: I1Zy2zAU1MwC
Amazon: 140168985X
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2008-02-12T00:00:00+00:00

24

Dia’s daddy? Back? “Uh, I thought . . . but you said . . .” Didn’t Chanda say her “baby’s daddy” had a new girlfriend and they’d gone off on a cruise or something? She’d been livid, because he was always telling her he had no money for child support.

Chanda tilted her nose up and sniffed. “Oh, that. He got tired of her, saw what he was missin’. Says he’s home for good now.”

Oh, please. The guy probably heard about Chanda winning the lottery and came running. “Chanda, are you sure? I mean, money can do funny things to people.”

Her eyes flashed. “This ain’t about no money, Sista Jodee! De mon is Dia’s daddy, after all. Ain’t you happy about that?”

“Yes, of course, Chanda! But . . .” I let it drop and instead leaned over and gave her a hug. “I hope it all works out, Chanda.” I wanted to be happy for her, but I smelled a rat.

The official quinceañera broke up around five o’clock, but the kids still wanted to party. Josh was the only one with a driver’s license, so Denny gave him back his car keys—it’d been seven days anyway. The Quinceañera and her Corte de honor all piled into our minivan and went out for pizza. Minus Edesa, that is, who begged off, laughing, saying she was done being a teenager for a day, Muchas gracias.

Adele had stayed for a while, but I’d seen her leaving just after the piñata rained candy all over the floor. “Adele!” I’d scurried over and caught her at the top of the stairs. “I was supposed to ask you when I made Amanda’s appointment—and forgot, of course. Since your sister’s out of town, could Yada Yada meet at your place tomorrow? You know, bring the prayer group to you since it’s hard for you to get care for MaDear right now.”

Adele nodded, pulling a snug fake fur hat down over her short ’fro, which was growing out to its natural black and silver color. “Stu already told me. Nice party, Jodi. You and Denny have a right to be proud of that girl.”

My smile tightened. Good ol’ Stu, covering for me again. “Oh. Okay. See you tomorrow then.”

But I could hardly complain. Stu and Florida and Delores and Edesa—everybody, really—stayed to help clean up after the kids left. But as Avis put on her coat she murmured, “I won’t be at Yada Yada tomorrow night, Jodi. Peter, he, well . . .” She looked a little flustered.

“What? You’re going to miss Yada Yada for Peter? Hey, this is getting serious.”

“Oh, stop.” Avis batted a hand at me, like a pesky fly. “He’s giving a dinner for new employees at the Palmer House tomorrow night and asked me to attend with him. Doesn’t mean anything.” She lowered her voice. “Peter hates social gatherings, doesn’t know how to do small talk. He asked me to come for moral support.”

I grinned. “Like I said.”

WHEN WE ARRIVED FOR worship the next morning at Uptown, all traces of Amanda’s quinceañera had disappeared.

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