“Icando this. I’ve always been ready for every risk, right?” Her neck ached from the tightness in her shoulders.
Adanne placed her hand on top of Kenya’s, which was gripped in a fist she didn’t know she’d formed until now.
Her cousin’s voice softened. “Maybe this is more than a risk. Maybe it is more of a step of faith. I know what it feels like to be scared to let go, afraid of the things that will fall apart if I do.”
Adanne sighed. “I think maybe you’re afraid that you are the one who will fall apart if you don’t have something to hold you together. But maybe falling apart is necessary to be put back together the way God wants you to be.”
Kenya blinked, swallowed. The ache in her neck tapering a little.
Adanne’s words were like the back-and-forth spin of a combination lock—start at zero, then three to the right, left, right again, and click, there it is.
A breath leaked out, the tightness in her chest diminishing. “Maybe it’s okay to start at zero,” she whispered.
Confusion flitted across Adanne’s gaze. “Is that what I said? Wait ... never mind.” Her mouth tilted. “That’s what you heard.”
Kenya gave her cousin a wobbly smile. “And exactly what I needed.”
Adanne walked with her out the doors. Her eyes scanned the parking lot. “Um, you need me to drop you off?”
Oops, she’d forgotten to send for an Uber. “Yes, I guess I need that too.”
A few minutes later, Kenya opened the door to the alterationshop where Favour wanted to meet her. Bells chimed at her arrival. On the wall just inside the entrance was a framed cross-stitch that said “For glory and beauty—Exodus 28:2.”
The words resounded in her mind, echoing like the bell that had announced her entrance.
The small woman sitting behind the glass counter looked up. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here to meet someone.” Kenya scanned the small shop. Solomon’s mother wasn’t there yet, unless she was in the back.
“What time was your appointment?” The woman looked through a memo pad.
“Um, 4:30 p.m. with Mrs. Anruchi.”
“Oh yes, Fay Fay! She’s always here when she’s in town. Come in the back. I’ll get started.”
Kenya glanced out the door and back to the woman with a pincushion already in hand. “Are you sure I should start without her?”
“Yes, yes! I’m Helen, and Fay always sends people to me. And if she’s in town, she is sometimes late.”
Kenya followed Helen to an adjacent room, curious about how well Helen seemed to know Fay Fay, as she called her.
She stepped up on a platform in front of a tall trifold mirror, favoring her foot so she wouldn’t trip.
“Take off your outside shirt,” Helen demanded.
Kenya did so without hesitation since the shorter woman wielded fierce-looking pins.
Helen picked up a piece of fabric and began to drape it around Kenya’s waist. The textile had significant weight to it. A coral fabric with raised floral patterns embroidered in a matching-colored thread. Another spool of coral-colored Swiss lace leaned against the wall. Despite the heft of the fabric, Kenya’s shoulders straightened.
The door chimed, and Favour announced, “I am here-o!” The two women began to talk rapidly. After their enthusiastic and jumbled greeting, Favour clapped her hands together and stepped onto the platform.
Kenya braced herself as the two women armed with measuring tape and pins circled her like lionesses to prey. Hopefully she would survive this mostly intact.
“YEAH,WHO IS IT?”Solomon pushed the headphone speaker off his right ear, positive now that he had heard a knock. He had probably missed several raps at his door as they blended in with the beats coming from his headphones. He glanced back at the TV screen. Probably time to take a break. But no one ever stopped by unannounced. Thankfully, not even his siblings or parents. Maybe it was someone who had the wrong address. Instacart and DoorDash delivery drivers were always getting apartment numbers mixed up at this place.
“Hey, Solomon?”
The voice behind the door was too familiar to be a fast-food drop-off. “Kenya?”
