Exaggerated groans and mutters rumbled for a few seconds, and Jase shook his head and laughed. “It’s not gonna be that bad.” He waited until they quieted. “As Christians, we’re called to be ‘little Christs.’ In other words, we’re to follow His example. So for the next week, look for ways you can be like Jesus. When we get together next, we’ll talk about what all you saw and we’ll pick a few things we can do as a group to bless somebody else. Okay?” The idea had been on Lori’s list, and he liked it. He hoped the kids would.
A few nods, a few smiles, and a few grimaces. But most seemed on board. “Good. Now, Zack, you wanna get your guitar? Lead us in a couple songs, then we’ll pray and head y’all out of here.”
* * *
—
Back in his apartment, Jase flopped onto his sofa and replayed Cullen’s contribution to the group’s discussion. Had the boy’s example about finding a wallet and the reasons for wanting to keep it been something he’d pulled out of the air, or was it more personal—a way of sharing the truth of his family life? Sympathy pinched Jase’s heart. At the same time, he still wasn’t convinced Cullen hadn’t taken Rachel’s ring. He’d seen Cullen’s sneaky side often enough to be wary of taking everything he said at face value. The boy definitely warranted watching. He should probably ask Brother and Sister Kraft about his home life, too.
He slapped his forehead. He’d intended to ask Sister Kraft about Lori’s unusual absence. Now, at almost nine o’clock, he shouldn’t bother her. Lori had come in and cleaned last Thursday, so she’d probably do the same tomorrow. He’d catch her himself and talk to her then.
Wichita
Lori
Lori was past due at the church to perform her custodial duties after the Wednesday-night activities. Vacuuming, dusting, floor mopping, and bathrooms and kitchen cleanup took about five hours, and it was four o’clock already. She should get to the church. But she rounded another aisle in the pharmacy and slowly perused the shelves. There had to be a supplement that would carve off these pounds. Or at least one that would make her not want to eat. It was here, and she would find it. She had to find it.
A little sign announcing Weight Loss Products hung above a section, and she stood beneath it, gathering the courage to pick up one of the bottles and read the details. There were security cameras everywhere, which meant right now someone was probably watching the fat woman in aisle four search for a miracle. Was he laughing at her size? And why didn’t any of the names on the containers sound like something a person would actually consider putting in their mouth?
A skinny-as-a-rail older woman wearing a shirt with the store’s emblem on its breast pocket breezed around the corner and came directly to Lori. Had whoever monitored the security cameras sent her?
The woman gave Lori a bright smile. “Can I help you with anything, hon?”
Lori shrugged and flicked her hand. “No, I’m fine. Browsing. You know, seeing what all’s new.” She tugged the ribbed bottom band of her sweat suit jacket lower on her hips. Crazy Kansas weather. Did it have to drop fifteen degrees overnight and make her need a jacket? Of course, the one she’d grabbed from the hook was at least one size too small. The dryer must’ve shrunk it. Uh-huh, right. Holding down the hem with one hand, she reached for a bottle marked Green Tea Extract.
The woman stepped around Lori. “All right. Let me know if you change your mind.” She hurried to the other end of the aisle, where a weary-looking young mother batted her toddler’s hands away from the vitamins.
With the others in the aisle occupied, Lori selected two bottles of unpronounceable pills—one for boosting metabolism, the other for suppressing appetite—in addition to the green tea capsules. Her hands full, she headed for the checkout counter. She plopped the items on the counter and dug in her little crossbody purse for her debit card while the gum-chewing young man at the register rang up her purchases.
“Forty-one ninety-three.”
Lori’s head bounced up. “W-what?”
“Forty-one dollars and ninety-three cents.”
She dropped her astounded gaze to the trio of plastic containers. “Are you kidding me?”
He shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
The amount and being called ma’am—yikes trikes, she was only twenty-six years old!—were both very, very upsetting. “But that can’t be right.” She waved