47
After service, the sanctuary buzzes with people talking amongst themselves, laughing, greeting one another. I spot Erica right away. She's already up, helping clean, walking the rows in her section, picking up stray papers and bulletins, making sure the aisles are clear.
Should I go talk to her? Maybe I should.
Before I can decide, someone gently pulls my arm. It's Sister Aaliyah.
I turn and smile. “Hey.”
“Hey, Brother King,” she says warmly. “The service was wonderful, right?”
“Yeah… it was beautiful,” I tell her. Shame washes over me because I barely remember most of it.
She tilts her head. “How is everything?”
“It’s fine,” I say.
We fall into easy conversation for a minute. She starts telling me about her classes, how the workload is picking up.
“I was wondering if you could help me study sometime? Maybe quiz me on some of the material?” she asks hopefully.
I could make the time. I know I could. But I don't want to.
“I’m so sorry, Sister Aaliyah. I’m actually really busy right now. I mean, I could try to do it with you after church one of these Sundays, but during the week—”
“No, it’s okay,” she cuts in gently. “I understand. It’s fine.” She pauses, then adds with a small smile, “Honestly, I also want to spend more time with you. It feels like we never have enough time to talk anymore. We’re still friends, right?”
“Of course we’re still friends,” I say.
She nods, then glances past me. When I turn to look, Erica is in the aisle picking up papers, mumbling something to herself. I smile a little before I can catch myself.
“Maybe I can ask Sister Erica to help me with my studies,” Aaliyah says suddenly.
For some reason that doesn't sit right with me. I look at her. “Why would you ask Sister Erica?”
Aaliyah smiles brightly. “I don't know. She doesn't have a lot of friends in this church, right? So I figured maybe I could be friendly to her. After all, she did try to help us, even though that didn't really go anywhere, but at least it was worth a try.” She smiles at her own joke.
I smile a little sheepishly. “Yeah, well… she has a lot to do too.”
“Do you not want me to ask her?” Sister Aaliyah asks.
“No, I mean, you can do whatever you want. If she has time, then she'll help you if she can or wants to. But I can't see that being her thing.”
Sister Aaliyah nods and then walks over to Erica. My heart beats faster. Oh no. I can't take my eyes off both of them, wondering what Erica is going to say.
Erica pauses momentarily, then retrieves the long-handled dustpan and broom, resuming her work while Sister Aaliyah speaks to her. Erica offers a smile. Then she chuckles, eventually letting out a slightly louder laugh, the kind of sound that pulls a smile from me as well.
Sister Aaliyah beams and begins her walk back toward me.
“What was so funny?” I ask.
“I told her that she looks absolutely miserable doing that, and she laughed and told me, ‘Is it that obvious?’ I said yeah .”
We both glance over at Erica before I turn my attention back to Sister Aaliyah. “Did you ask her to help you?”
Sister Aaliyah shakes her head. “No. She's got enough to deal with,” she says.
I begin navigating the aisles alongside Sister Aaliyah, who seems determined to keep the conversation flowing. My focus, however, drifts to the left. Erica looks up from her sweeping just as our eyes meet. I offer her a soft, faint smile, and she mirrors it back.
I want to spend time with Erica.
Just to talk, to clear the air, to apologize. So many things. But when am I going to get the time? She drove to church today, so it’s not like I can talk to her on the drive back.
After I finish talking with Sister Aaliyah and her ride comes to get her, I stay in my truck. I’ve pulled it over and parked right beside Erica’s car.
An hour goes by.
Then an hour and a half.
Where is she?