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of God up in Evanston. I used to go there before I came to Uptown.”
    I had a slow, sinking feeling in my gut, like a blob of mercury sliding back down to zero in the meat thermo-meter after pulling it from the roast turkey. It had never occurred to me that Avis might go to some other church—though I sometimes wondered why she came to Uptown in the first place. For all Pastor Clark’s good intentions of growing a diverse congregation, we were still pretty WASPish and rather slow to warm up to Avis’s free style of worship and prayer. Florida showing up—and staying—had been a lot of support in that department, at least.
    I heard Peter yelling in the background—and the Baxter trio yelling in stereo down the hall. Must’ve made a touchdown. “Oh, stop,” I heard Avis say, and she laughed. “You’re nuts! Stop it.” And she giggled. “Peter is doing his own version of the end-zone dance. At his age!” She laughed again.
    I couldn’t imagine the distinguished black man Avis had brought to Uptown a month ago—clean-shaven except for a neat moustache, comfortable in a suit and tie, dark hair with only a hint of gray on both sides above his ears—doing the “touchdown stomp.” There was no doubt about it, though—a male voice was woo-hooing in Avis’s living room, and Avis was giggling like a sixth-grader.
    â€œWell, guess I better let you go since you’ve got company.” Oh, grow up, Jodi! You sound like a kid who has to share your mommy’s attention.
    â€œYou all right, Jodi? Didn’t ask why you called.”
    â€œYeah, I’m okay. Had a good bawl a little while ago, just thinking about the trauma we weathered this past year. Glad I didn’t know last New Year’s Day what God was going to take us through. And I was kinda missing you. Just wanted to hear your voice.”
    â€œIt has been a while, hasn’t it? When did Yada Yada last meet? Before Christmas anyway. I’m so glad you called, Jodi. It was a tough year but a good year. God gave us the Yada Yada Prayer Group—who would’ve thought? And we’ve all learned a lot about God’s faithfulness to us in the midst of all the . . . stuff that went down.”
    A feel-sorry-for-myself lump gathered in my throat. “Yeah. I was just telling God I wouldn’t mind a few months of ‘dull and boring’ right about now.”
    Avis laughed. “I’ll stand in agreement with that! Let’s all pray for ‘dull and boring—’”
    Blaaaaaaaaaat.
    â€œWhat was that, Jodi?”
    I sighed. “Back door buzzer. Front doorbell has a nice ding-dong to it—you know.” I clambered off the bed and headed toward the kitchen. “Guess I better get it. Talk to you later, okay?”
    I hung up the phone in the kitchen and peered out the glass window in the top half of the back door. Good grief. It was my upstairs neighbor—Rose Bennett. Had she figured out that I almost rewashed her clothes in the machine? She couldn’t have! I’d covered my tracks . . .
    I put on a smile and opened the door. “Hi, Rose.” Her slim shoulders were hunched inside a sleek white jogging suit, her hair tied back with a black silk scarf—not her usual dressed-for-success attire. On a gentler day, I would have stepped out and just talked to her on the back porch. But that wind was nasty. “Come in before you freeze.”
    The woman hesitated then stepped inside. “Jodi, isn’t it?”
    To my credit, I did not roll my eyes.We had only lived in the same two-flat for a year and a half. “Uh-huh. Jodi Baxter.What’s up?” Did I really want to know?
    â€œLamar is being transferred to Atlanta.We’ll be moving as soon as we find someone to sublet the apartment.”
    â€œOh.” I blinked a couple of times. “Okay. Thanks for letting us know. At least it’s warmer in