Mercedes sat tucked inside a pew, her mother on one side and Marley on the other. Marley's own mother sat fanning herself a few inches away from Marley, turning to give the girls reassuring smiles and nods each time the pastor said something agreeable. On a whim, Mercedes had invited Marley and her mother to church with her and her own mother— unbeknownst to Mercedes, Marley's mother, Millie, didn't have a vehicle. Mercedes's mother was happy to bring the women to church, but rolled her eyes at Mercedes upon hearing that she had the honor, also, of picking the two up and returning them home.

Millie was a bigger woman— giant, in fact. Mercedes knew she wasn't thin or even average sized, but her mother was closer to medium. All the women on the bench varied in shape, color and size, but when the group had walked into church, everyone had stared. Some gave niceties while others turned their nose up as Millie shifted uncomfortably between their row and the one ahead. Marley hadn't clued Mercedes in about the size of her mother, and the latter could feel the shame radiating from Marley's face the moment the small Toyota came into her view. Marley and her mother stood patiently at the end of their driveway, in brightly colored, pastel dresses with leather-bound Bibles in tote.

Mercedes's mother, Nanette, but Nani for short, was a quiet, aloof and a culturally aware person but kind. She had always been kind. She had predicted the curious to judgemental stares she would get upon entering the church with white woman and child in carry, but who was she to act on suspicions especially in the face of an irreproachable Christ. Still, she picked at her nails impatiently, waiting for the end of service. Waiting for all the eyes in the back of the room to shift. The preacher trudged along, bringing an insistent but scattered wave of clapping and agreement over the service.

"I enjoyed it so much,' Marley beamed as the women returned to Nanette's car. "Like, the singing at the beginning, wow,' she said, a look of awe washing over her expression.

Mercedes laughed. "Our band is the bomb,' she confirmed. "I get to sing with them sometimes."

"No freaking way,' Marley stopped short, her jaw agape. "You're pulling my leg. Are you serious?"

"Yeah,' Mercedes nodded meekly. "Don't make a scene or nothing… Like, around holidays and stuff. Nothing major."

Marley rolled her eyes, walking closer to Mercedes in the parking lot. "You definitely get cooler and cooler each time I talk to you… I wish I could sing like any of those people on stage. They sound like… I don't even know? It was like a chorus of Whitney Houston's. So much talent, I was so blown away. Back home, all we ever sang were hymns. Which is fine, don't get me wrong, but they have nothing on what I just saw back there. I'm going to be thinking about that all week."

Mercedes blushed under the intense compliments. They weren't for her, directly, but they were through her, and that made her proud. "Dang, girl. You can come back as often as you want."

Filing into the car, Nanette invited Marley and her mother over for dinner, and after a few minutes of convincing, Millie acquiesced (as long as Nani let her help cook). Mercedes normally would have helped make dinner as well, but the kitchen wasn't big enough to host all four women.

While Millie and Nani made busy in the kitchen, making a spread of fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes and gravy, sweet tea, cornbread, collard greens and biscuits, Mercedes showed Marley around the presentable parts of the home before bringing her to her bedroom, a red plush room with low lighting and plenty of hints of personality radiating along the walls.

"I like it,' Marley began, running a hand over Mercedes's comforter. "I like that it has its own rhythm.. Like, pattern?"

Sitting on her bed, Mercedes crossed her arms. "Have you gotten a chance to decorate your room yet?"

Marley looked up, idling for an answer. "I share with my mom, so… And money is tight, and I try to stay busy, so, there's no point. If everything goes well, we won't be there for long anyway."

Mercedes nodded and decided to shift the conversation. "I know you play piano, do you play any other instruments? Do you sing?"

"Sometimes, I sing,' Marley sat down at the edge of the bed. "Not as good as you or anyone else, but my mom and grandma like to hear me while we're doing dishes or making dinner. Lullabies are nice… and hymns,' she smiled, making Mercedes smile back.

"Well,' Mercedes gave a loud sigh and pushed herself off the bed. "Singing is singing, no matter who does it. Good singing, bad singing, groups singing, one person… anything. It's the human spirit. You should sing every time you have the opportunity."

Marley blushed, putting her face into her hands. "I feel like every time I hang out with you, I learn something... or like, you give me something. I don't know if I have anything to offer you, Mercedes."

The girl gave a soft frown as she pillaged through her drawers for something more comfortable to wear. "You don't have to offer me anything, Marley. I appreciate having a friend who actually cares what I'm talking about, you know? As I get older, I realize that's more and more rare."

"I get you."

Mercedes turned around, "Thank you for coming with me and mama earlier. We keep to ourselves a lot, so it's nice to have other people around. Not too many people have even seen my bedroom, even friends I've had for years."

"Well, then, I'm lucky.