Free A Sad Soul Can Kill You by Catherine Flowers Page B

you used to do, say the things you used to say, act the way you used to act . . . Come to Jesus. Come now.”
    The choir started singing “Just As I Am.” Tia remained seated as several men, women, and teenagers got up from their seat and made their way down to the front of the pulpit. Her eyes became watery. One more blink and the clear liquid would start rolling down her cheeks. She hadn’t planned to commit adultery, but what was she supposed to do if her husband ignored her desires?
    She clenched her teeth. Surely God didn’t want her to live with such depravity—but then again, what had God said about adultery? She picked up the fan and began fanning herself again as the tears began rolling unevenly down her face. The strong voices of the choir softened as the service came to an end.
    Tia wiped her eyes and prepared to leave. What had Pastor Worthy said about sin? He’d said it felt good, and Tia convinced herself that she deserved to feel good for a change. Right now, she felt like a woman. She felt alive. But with a twinge of guilt she had to admit that it had been another man, not God, who had resuscitated her.
    She grabbed her Bible and stood up. Yes, Pastor Worthy had said sin felt good, but what he’d also said—and what Tia had tried to ignore—was that the end result of sin was death.
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    Serenity entered the house through the kitchen door, which allowed her to bypass the living room—and her father—who she thought would be passed out on the couch like he almost always was. She headed for her bedroom upstairs when he called her name.
    â€œSerenity!” he yelled.
    He startled her, and she stood still, trying to decide if she should go into the living room or run upstairs like she wanted to.
    She heard his footsteps coming toward the kitchen and decided to meet him halfway.
    He loomed over the entryway of the kitchen. “Where you been?” His question sounded more like an accusation.
    â€œAt Cookie’s house,” she said defensively.
    â€œYour mama was looking for you. Ain’t this church night?”
    â€œI had to study.” She looked up at him. His eyes were filled with what she thought was disapproval, and she was immediately sorry she had looked into them. He brushed past her and headed for the refrigerator.
    Serenity went upstairs to her bedroom and sat by the window facing the fenced in backyard. She tried to visualize the landscaping below that had been made invisible by a sheet of crystallized snow. Fallen acorns from the ominous-looking oak tree formed a haphazard pattern on top of the frozen snow and the trees’ branches hung low from the weight of the thick ice that encased them.
    Bushes struggled to maintain an upright position under the weight of the icy burden, and a mound of snow covered the bench that sat in the center of the yard. Serenity noticed a display of small animal prints decorating the surface of the snow-covered bench.
    Suddenly, several squirrels began ducking in and out of the many nooks and crannies of the timeworn trunk. As cold as it was, they didn’t seem to be affected by the single-digit temperatures at all as they continued their fast-paced game of hide-and-seek. After a few minutes, all but one of the squirrels had disappeared.
    The last squirrel continued darting in and out of one of the trunk’s crevices until Serenity tapped on the window; then it crawled down to the bottom of the tree and stopped.
    She thought about how she’d almost knocked over the lamp at Cookie’s house, and the comment Cookie had made. Her mind pictured the look of disgust her mother gave her every time she knocked something over and it broke. Another sting. And lately, she’d noticed that same look on her father’s face, even when she hadn’t stumbled over anything, even when nothing had shattered to pieces.
    Serenity realized she was squeezing the fashion magazine she’d gotten