Second Sunday Read Online Free PDF

benediction was given, Bert and Nettie got in the receiving line at the front of the church, where Rev. Patterson
     stood greeting the members. And it was there, after searching for her all morning, that Nettie finally found Sheba Cochran.
     She was the first one in line, glittering in a tight black rhinestone-studded dress with a scoop neck that was more suitable
     for the Mothership Club than church.
    Sheba Cochran stood five-foot-five and had a deep cinnamon brown complexion. She wasn’t beautiful like Katie Mae Johnson,
     but she was just as cute as she could be. Sylvia always said that Sheba’s best asset was that big, round, onion-shaped behind
     sitting up high on her “little thin-shaped self.” And Sheba was funny, with a good heart and a whole lot of smarts. She was
     a devoted mother who took good care of her four children all by herself, thanks to her full-time job at the post office and
     a side gig doing taxes. She was a good neighbor and a loving friend.
    With some maneuvering, Nettie landed a spot three people away from Sheba, who was chatting comfortably with Rev. Blue Patterson.
     Behind her, the people in line were growing restive, frowning and whispering, “That hussy in the hot-mama dress know she need
     to move on. And her self know she not saved.” A little farther back, Cleavon Johnson stood scowling at the sight of Sheba
     in church, which made Nettie smile. “If you knew why Sheba is here, you’d be cussing,” she thought.
    Rev. Blue Patterson didn’t seem inclined to have Sheba move on. For all his hollering at the congregation about sin and sinning,
     he was grinning and ogling Sheba, making Nettie wonder if Blue Patterson himself had even heard a word he said. As if to reward
     Rev. Patterson for indulging her in conversation, Sheba gave him a dazzling smile, put her black, satin-gloved hand daintily
     in his, and sighed deeply, as if the man and his sermon had really put something on her. When Nettie heard that old rascal
     tell Sheba the Lord had led him to instruct her to meet him in
his
office after the church dinner for prayer and private counseling, she said, “Thank you, Jesus,” right out loud, before she
     could catch herself.
    Bert frowned and said, “Why you acting like you getting the Holy Ghost, standing here watching that jackleg preacher act like
     the clown he is over Sheba, and service
been
over with?”
    Nettie didn’t blink an eye. She said, “Sometimes, when I think about how good the Lord has been to me, I just have to thank
     Him. Don’t matter if I’m sitting in service or standing in line waiting to shake somebody’s hand. I just have to forget where
     I am and praise Him.”
    Bert didn’t say a word to Nettie. He simply narrowed his eyes at her again before grunting, “Humph,” just to let her know
     she wasn’t fooling
no-body.
    All during the dinner, Bert kept close watch on his wife and her friends, thinking that whatever was up, Sheba Cochran was
     right in the middle of it. For why else would Sheba be at church today? The girl only came to church on Christmas and Easter
     Sunday, dragging her four kids behind her, looking all uncomfortable in stiff new dress clothes and shoes she had bought solely
     for those holidays. But today wasn’t Christmas or Easter. It was just a regular Sunday in September—more than three months
     in advance of one of Sheba’s church days.
    When the desserts were being set out on the serving tables, Nettie, Viola, Sylvia, and Katie Mae all got up and went to the
     bathroom together. Sheba, who was sitting at the guest pastor’s table, saw them leave and followed, pausing for a second when
     she passed by Cleavon, just to slice right through him with her eyes. By the time Bert returned from the dessert table, carrying
     two big pieces of lemon coconut cake for himself and Nettie, the women had disappeared behind the rest room door.
    The door had barely closed when Nettie blurted, “Tell us! What did you find