Free Boaz Brown by Michelle Stimpson Page B

alternating between churches,” she informed me. “We’re not sure exactly where we’re going to end up. I think we both enjoy each other’s churches so much.”
    See, here she goes with too much information. Did I ask her where she and Paul were going to church?
    Just then Brother Pruitt walked up behind Shannon in his dark three-piece suit and crisp white shirt. He placed his left hand on her shoulder and offered his other hand to me, greeting me with a smile, looking like a big, sorry something.
    I shook his hand, but I didn’t want to. What was his problem, standing there with his arm around Shannon’s shoulder like somebody   really wanted   that white woman?
    Emily released herself from my side and pushed her body into the side of Paul’s leg. He picked her up and kissed her on the forehead, then placed her down beside her mother. “Are you ready?” he asked Shannon.
    “Yes,” she said to him. “It was so nice meeting you, Sister Smith. We’ll be seeing you again.”
    “Great.” I smiled at Emily. It was the only thing I could do to try to hide the anger welling up inside me. “I’ll see you next time, Emily.”
    And then the three of them turned and walked away. Emily’s ruffled, pink dress bounced with every step she took between her mother and Paul. Halfway down the hall, Paul took hold of Shannon’s hand. His deep ebony skin seemed to clash with her milky- white complexion. As though she knew I was still watching them, Shannon turned back and gave me one last smile, swinging her chin just above her shoulder. I gave her the finger wave: fingers fluttering, palm motionless.
    On my way out of the church, I stopped to relieve myself in the ladies’ room. I’d been holding it all morning, it seemed, but the heaviness in my bladder had taken a backseat to my anger following Shannon’s introduction.
    The church’s restroom was small and only semiprivate, with one stall, which had a shower curtain rather than an actual door. With two older women inside, the room was already crowded, but I stayed put because I didn’t know if my bladder would tolerate much movement. I tapped my heel, ever so slightly, as I waited.
    “Yeah.”   Mother Alderson shifted her hat on her head as she looked in the mirror. “You’re right about that,   Marlaine. The only reason that white woman is with him is ‘cause she couldn’t find a white man who had just the same going for him. I’m sure she would much rather be with a white man—just wasn’t one out there that could match Pruitt.   I   sholy   hate to see that, though.   And I know   Hester   ‘nem   ain’t too happy about it.”
    Mother Alderson looked away from her reflection and gave me a sympathetic grin. I grinned back and then looked down at my feet, expecting to see a pool of urine form around them if Mother   Marlaine   Cook didn’t hurry up and get out of that stall. They had been talking about Paul, I knew, and I wanted to jump in with my two cents’ worth, but it didn’t seem the right thing to do. At least not in church, anyway. Maybe, somewhere out with Peaches or in the car, I could say all the things I felt.   But not in church.
    I thought about Emily as I traveled home. She was a child, now, but what would she be like when she grew up? Would she still hug black people? Would she still accept a black man kissing her on the cheek, or would she be one of those white girls who would tell the principal when a black boy expressed an interest in her? Would she like black boys? Would she follow her mother’s example and date or marry a black man?
    I wondered next how Emily’s father must have felt about a black man kissing his daughter.   Hmm.   I   betcha   it would burn him up that his little angel was in the company of a black man. He’d probably sue for custody.

 
     
    Chapter 6
     
    Daddy had his reservations about letting me join the debate team, let alone going off to competition with them. “How many black kids do