When Love's at Work Read Online Free Page A

cream.”
    “ There’s ice cream?” Meg
asked.
    “ Ben and Jerry’s,” Pure
said.
    “ I was in charge of the
ice cream,” Court said proudly. “I brought four different
kinds.”
    “ Way to go, Court!” Meg
gave her friend a high five.
    Purity had already tossed the salad
ingredients together, leaving off the dressing until the last
minute so the leaves wouldn’t get soggy.
    All three women were standing in the
kitchen: Meg watching through the oven door to make sure the french
bread didn’t burn, Courtney propped up against the wall with one
leg bent with her foot against the wall, and Purity by the sink
putting the dressing on the salad.
    How many times had this scene unfolded? Too
many to count. Pure wasn’t sure how her apartment became the hub
for their gatherings, but she loved.
    When the bread was golden, Meggie busied
herself by cutting it into wedges while Courtney cleared off the
coffee table in the living room and placed the chicken fettuccini
on a trivet so it wouldn’t scorch the table. They always chose to
sit on the floor and use the coffee table as their dining surface.
Old habits die hard with this group, Courtney thought as she piled
up the tile coasters and silk covered boxes that Purity loved and
set them aside.
    Meg grabbed silverware, plates, napkins and
the bread and Purity carried in bottles of Diet Peach Snapple and
the salad, equipped with serving tongs.
    As was their tradition, the three women held
hands and gave thanks to God for the food they were about to eat
and were grateful for the nourishment for their body and spirit.
They also gave thanks for the friendship they shared and included
Emily Cravens’ well-being in their prayers.
    They talked, laughed and shared stories of
events since their last gathering two weeks prior.
    Meg complained about her boss, which was
nothing new, and vowed that she was going to quit her job if he
didn’t acknowledge her contributions. Meggie threatened to quit her
job at least four times a year, but no one took her seriously as
she had been employed at the accounting firm for more than twelve
years. Court and Purity figured she’d end up retiring before she
quit.
    Courtney was working on an article for a
children’s magazine about drawing your way through grief. She was
well-known and respected in the community for her work with
children and young adults and she had chosen art as her way to
connect and communicate. It also gave her the opportunity to set
her own schedule, work from home, and continue expressing her own
creativity through art.
    “ Hey,” Court said, jumping
up from her position on the floor and grabbing the large bag she
had brought with her. “Check this out.”
    Court handed Purity one of the drawings she
made and handed Meg the other, then watched their faces. Meg had a
look of concern for Courtney’s mental health as she looked at the
hideous drawing of a woman’s head exploding and her brains spilling
out. Her body was mangled and had several knives protruding from
her pelvis. There was also a bloody handsaw lying on its side and
the stump of the woman’s leg drenched in a pile of dark goo. Meg
did not understand Courtney’s illustrations at all. Art wasn’t her
thing in general, but she had a hard time even calling what Court
did art.
    Purity was surveying the man, minus his
family jewels, and noticing that his hands had been replaced by
oven mitts. He was wearing glasses like a blind man might wear and
his mouth had been covered with duct tape.
    The women switched drawings and Purity began
to laugh. “Very nice,” she said to Courtney. “I wish I had those
lovely earrings.”
    “ What earrings?” Meg
wanted to know, leaning over to look at the sketch again. She
didn’t see anything special about the earrings, except they didn’t
match. “What’s so special about them?”
    “ They’re made from the
genitalia of the guy in the other drawing,” Purity
explained.
    Meg looked closer. Purity was