Murder with Macaroni and Cheese Read Online Free

framing her hazel eyes. Clicking her heels along the sidewalk with her long black hair pushed back with a pair of oversized white sunglasses, she looks like she’s about to board a private jet bound for some exotic location.
    â€œThank you.” She leans in, grabs both my hands, and gives me a kiss on each cheek.
    â€œIt’s so nice to see you. Please. Come in.”
    â€œIt’s great to see you as well.” She steps inside Sweet Tea and begins to look around. “What a lovely place. I’d heard you’d become a successful restaurateur. I can’t believe I’ve never been here . . . especially considering I only live a few miles away.”
    â€œThat is a shame, but we’ll make up for it today. We’ll indulge you with the finest soul food in town.” I notice Wavonne hovering next to me. “This is my cousin, Wavonne. She works as a server here.”
    â€œNice to meet you.”
    â€œPlease. Let’s have a seat.” I gesture for Alvetta to follow me as I walk toward a four top by one of the front windows.
    â€œWhat would you like to drink? A cocktail or a glass of wine? Or we have a watermelon mint iced tea on special—it’s perfect on a hot day like this.”
    â€œThat sounds delightful.”
    â€œWavonne, could you get us a couple of glasses of the watermelon mint tea?”
    Wavonne, who followed us to the table, finally diverts her envious eyes from Alvetta’s attire, nods, and heads toward the drink station.
    â€œSo, how are you? What have you been up to?” Alvetta asks.
    â€œThis.” I look around me. “Keeping this place running leaves little time for much else. How about you? I heard you married a church pastor.” I figure that sounded better than telling her Wavonne and I were just snooping around on Facebook for details about her.
    â€œYes. My husband, Michael, is the pastor of Rebirth Christian Church in Fort Washington. We have a congregation of more than ten thousand. It keeps both of us very busy.”
    â€œI’m sure it does.”
    â€œYou should come to service sometime. I’ll reserve you a seat in the Pastor’s Circle.”
    â€œThe Pastor’s Circle?”
    â€œIt’s the seating area closest to the stage. The seats are reserved for special guests and VIPs.”
    â€œHow nice,” I reply, even though the idea of a VIP section seems more appropriate for a nightclub rather than a church. “I’d love to, but it’s hard to get away on Sunday mornings. Preparing to feed church attendees after the service doesn’t give us much time to actually attend ourselves.”
    â€œWell . . . when you can get away, I hope you’ll come.”
    â€œOf course,” I respond before switching gears. “So. The reunion?”
    â€œYes. I’m so excited. It will be a real treat to get the old gang back together again.” She seems to be saying this as if I were part of the “old gang.” By no means was I part of the “Whitleys,” a named bestowed upon Raynell and Alvetta’s gaggle of snooty girls in honor of Whitley Gilbert, the spoiled elitist character played by Jasmine Guy on A Different World, the spinoff of The Cosby Show that was popular back in my high school days. I’m not sure Raynell and Alvetta ever knew that the Whitleys is what they were called by most of the school. It wasn’t a name necessarily used in a derogatory fashion, but it was always said with a hint of distaste by those of us who were not part of the exclusive clique. I was reasonably popular in high school, but more in a studious “class president” sort of way rather than the fast-partying, latest-fashion-wearing way of the Whitleys.
    â€œI’m sure it will be a fun night. I’ve lost touch with most of our classmates. Occasionally, some alumni I recognize will come in here for lunch or dinner, but Nicole is the only former classmate