by Randy Reynolds
"I heard your sister-in-law had surgery."
"No, I don’t have a sister-in-law."
"Sister Dowden?"
"That’s Sister Spencer’s sister-in-law."
"I thought she was yours."
"No. I don’t have one."
"Well, how’d the surgery go?"
"I couldn’t say. I really don’t know her."
"I’ve been praying for her is why I asked, but I can’t find anyone who knows how she is."
"I haven’t heard."
"What time did she have it?"
"I really couldn’t say."
"All this time, I thought she was your sister-in-law."
"No, not mine."
"Isn’t she your husband’s brother’s wife?"
"My husband doesn’t have a brother."
"Well, I’ll be praying for her."
"I’m sure she’ll appreciate it."
The mass of Christianity talked its way to the door.
“I guess you heard that Brother Reynolds’ son is going to marry that little Jenkins girl.”
“Isn’t she a little young?”
“They both are.”
“What’s their hurry?”
“It ain’t up to me to say, the Lord knows how I hate gossip, but I heard they don’t have a choice. Their parents are making ‘em get married."
“Law, what a shame! And them not even out of high school yet.”
“I give 'em six months at most.”
“When’s it gonna happen?”
“As soon as he gets out of high school.”
“They better hurry or the cat'll be out of the bag."
“That’s what I say.”
“Brother Reynolds must be pretty embarrassed.”
“He ought to be. What’s it say to our young people, he can’t even control his own family?”
“Sister Reynolds is so sweet. I guess she’s all tore up about it.”
“Sister Jenkins too.”
“Well, bless my time, I reckon so.”
“You goin’ to the weddin’?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
They ambled up the aisle clinging to every thread of conversation like a lifeline that might keep them from being swept through the door.
The children were just the opposite—they ran outside as soon as the benediction was pronounced, and the churchyard came to life with shouts and squeals that rivaled the uninhibited noisemaking their elders had displayed in worship.
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