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called her like he said he would when he left her hotel room. Who would ever have thought he’d wind up married to Carlene a year later or that he was stupid enough to leave a pair of underpants in his briefcase? Or that Carlene had been the one who sewed the fancy beads on that pair of bikinis?
    Shit fire! Did she tell Carlene or take the secret to the grave with her?
    â€œSo do you think they’ll get back together?” Kim asked as she pushed back her dark hair and looked at herself in the three-way mirror.
    â€œWho?” Patrice frowned.
    â€œYou know. Carlene and Lenny. I heard that his mistress might be pregnant and is definitely pushing for an engagement ring. If they don’t get back together and if she’s not expecting a baby, I’d sure like to have another chance at him. He’s a real sex machine in the bedroom.” She turned this way and that way, looking at the bra. “I like this one just fine. I don’t need to try on any more. I will come back when I don’t have the rest of the choir hovering around. I want something sexy and pretty to have on hand just in case. I would like to have that cute little corset that y’all got in the window.”
    â€œHow do you know that Lenny is a sex machine?” Patrice asked.
    â€œHoney, he hasn’t always been married and I’m just one of dozens and dozens of notches on his bedpost. Experience makes perfect and Lenny Joe is near perfect in the bedroom.” One of Kim’s hazel eyes slid shut in a slow wink. “Would you put that corset back for me? I checked and it’s exactly my size. And I’d also like a pair of boy-cut panties to match it and maybe some hot-pink hose.”
    â€œShhh,” Patrice said. “Don’t you even want to know how much all that will cost?”
    â€œIt’ll be worth every penny, I’m sure.” Kim winked again.
    Patrice slowly shook her head. That woman would be singing “I’ve Just Seen Jesus” in the church before the whole town.
    ***
    Alma Grace’s first customer was the director of the church choir. She was even higher up on the righteous ladder than Alma Grace, who had been in charge of the Easter program for the past four years. Even though Alma Grace was the president of the Easter committee, Floy Gastineau was the big boss of anything that had to do with the choir. She was the drill sergeant and the girls, no matter age or size, were her recruits. And they’d better not be late to practice unless they were sick nigh unto death. Missing it altogether better mean they were in the hospital on a ventilator and hanging onto life by a thread. Jesus might forgive. Floy didn’t.
    Floy started talking the minute Alma Grace showed her into the dressing room. She was a wiry little woman who always wore long-sleeved dresses buttoned all the way up to her skinny neck, her hair in a knot on the back of her head, and a frown on her face. “I wear a 36B and I want an unadorned black bra. The shirts we’re wearing are black. I don’t agree with that part, Alma Grace, and you know it. But you are right about us looking uniform if we all wear black. Reds, yellows, and pinks wouldn’t all match like black. But it is Easter and we should be wearing spring colors.”
    â€œYes, ma’am.” Alma Grace nodded.
    â€œAnd before you go, what is this I’m hearing about Lenny and Carlene?”
    Alma Grace sighed. “They are having a bit of a rough time but I’m praying for them to see the error of their ways and put their marriage before their anger.”
    â€œOnce a womanizer, always a womanizer, but she knew what she was getting when she married him. So she needs to remember her vows and forgive him. I thought she was woman enough to keep him from straying but I guess I was wrong,” Floy declared.
    â€œMaybe we could have a special night of anointing prayer for her,” Alma Grace