If I Were Your Boyfriend Read Online Free PDF Page B

asked.
      "Biggie and Tupac," I answered her.
      "Oh, yeah. The two young men who were murdered."
      "You've heard of them?" I asked, utterly surprised that someone her age even knew of them.
      "Yeah, I've heard of them. We've talked about them before at church," she answered.
      She and I watched the remainder of the program together, and at its conclusion, Grandmother Katie turned off the television.
      "What a waste," she said. "All of that beautiful creative talent gone to waste. Perhaps if their energy could have been focused in a different direction their lives would not have been so short."
      "But they had it going on while they lived," I said. "I mean, they had everything. Cars, a house and money. They were doing it," I said, excited about their lifestyle.
      "Honey, money, cars and a home will not make you happy. Having purpose in your life can make you happy. Doing for others can make you happy. Giving—" Grandmother Katie stopped talking and there was a perplexed look on her face.
      "Keysha, did your mother and other grandmother ever take you to church?"
      I laughed.
      "Are you kidding me?" I laughed again. "We never went to church. Grandmother Rubylee said that the church was full of sinners pretending to be sanctified."
      Grandmother Katie's mouth fell open and she glared at me as if she were completely bewildered by what I'd just said.
      "What are you thinking? What's wrong?" I asked because I was beginning to think that I'd traumatized her.
      "Has Jordan taken you to church yet?" she asked. My grandmother was referring to my father who we called by his first name, Jordan. I had recently discovered my father and his side of the family a few months ago. My mother, Justine, and I were struggling to make ends meet in our old neighborhood in Chicago. When she got busted by the police for passing bad checks, I ended up in foster care. I had never met my father until I wound up in the system. Because I shared the same last name as Jordan, the social workers were able to locate him.
      Jordan never knew of my existence before that time. He invited me to move into the house he shared with his wife, Barbara, and son, Mike. Jordan and Grandmother Katie were always kind to me, but Barbara and Mike really resented my presence those first few weeks.
      "No. He said that we were going to go but I think he first wanted to build up our relationship. I'm positive we were about to go, but then I sort of complicated things."
      "I want you to go upstairs and get ready for church," she said.
    "What?" I asked.
      "We're going to church this morning. I was going to go to the afternoon service, but I think it would be better for us to go to the early-morning service."
      I rolled my eyes. "It's going to be boring," I protested.
      "You're bored sitting here now, so your being bored at church will not harm you."
      I was ready to snap back with an ugly comment, but I held on to my words before my mouth got me into trouble. Still, the last thing I wanted to do was listen to some old sweaty preacher talking about sinners and heathens.
      When we arrived at church, everyone there knew my grandmother Katie and everyone seemed to want a moment of her time to speak with her. I don't know why I got jealous about sharing her but I did. Someone asked her about organizing a health day at the church for people who didn't have medical insurance. Someone else asked her if she could find some hours to assist with the adultliteracy ministry. She graciously acknowledged everyone's plea for her assistance and she said that she would see if she could find some time in her schedule to volunteer.
      "Dang, why are these people all over you like that? Can't they do stuff for themselves?" I asked with an undertone of irritation that Grandmother Katie sensed immediately.
      "Get your attitude in check, young lady. You're in the house of the Lord and your nasty mood will not be tolerated in here."