Grown Folks Business by Victoria Christopher Murray Page B

vibrated atop her desk. “Oh, no,” she groaned when she noticed the message: “7 P.M. marriage retreat meeting.” She’d forgotten; she and Quentin had done all the research for the couples’ getaway and were supposed to review it with the board tonight.
    Sheridan searched through her desk for the folder with Quentin’s scribble on the outside. She stood and hurriedly grabbed her jacket and bag. In the foyer she yelled, “Chris…” Seconds passed before she said, “Christopher.”
    His bedroom door opened, and then her son appeared at the top of the landing.
    “Christopher,” she began, “I’m going to church. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. I have my cell, okay?”
    He nodded, leaned over the railing, and smiled. Sheridan took two steps back. How many times had Quentin watched her like that? “Okay, Mom. I’ll take care of Tori. I’ll take care of everything.”
    It was the second time he’d made that pronouncement—that he was now the man of the house. Sheridan shuddered. She still had to speak to him about that.
    She rushed to the car. But when she put her key into the ignition, her hand stayed still.
    She was supposed to be doing this with Quentin.
    Preparing for Hope Chapel’s tenth marriage retreat, the annual vacation for married couples.
    She flicked her wrist and the engine revved up. And her stomach fluttered.
    She was supposed to be doing this with Quentin.
    Attending the retreat as husband and wife. As examples for the soon-to-be and newly married couples. But what kind of example would she be now?
    She could imagine the comments: “Did you hear about the Harts?” and “I thought they had the perfect marriage,” and “Just goes to show you the world is not what it seems.”
    In one movement Sheridan turned off the ignition and jumped from the car. “I can’t do this.”
    She stepped into her home, and Christopher was standing there as if he’d been waiting.
    “Did you forget something?”
    She looked at him and wondered why she never noticed it before. Everyone said he looked like her, but tonight he sounded like his father.
    “No, I just decided not to go.” Sheridan rushed up the stairs. At the top she glanced down at her son. He was watching her, and his eyes told her he understood.
    Inside her bedroom Sheridan made the call.
    “Hi, Nicole, it’s Ms. Hart,” she said, trying to put a smile into her voice. “Is your mom or dad home?”
    “Hi, Ms. Hart. Mom and Dad are on their way to church. You just missed them. Sorry.”
    I’m not sorry. “That’s okay. I’ll just leave a message. Tell them, we…I…Mr. Hart and I are sorry we missed the meeting tonight.”
    “Okay.” Nicole paused. “Is Chris, I mean, Christopher there?”
    Nicole reminded Sheridan that Christopher’s demand for a new identity went beyond their home. Still, it pleased Sheridan that Nicole asked for Christopher.
    A year ago it had almost broken her heart when Christopher asked if he could go on a group date. She’d known it was coming, but she wasn’t ready. His choice of Nicole eased her pain a bit. The two seemed perfect.
    Christopher and Nicole attended the same school, were in Jack and Jill, were both active in church, and often found themselves at social events together with their parents, since their fathers were both doctors and their mothers officers in their chapter of Delta Sigma Theta. Nicole was the girl whom every mother requested for her son in her prayers to God.
    So when Christopher announced last November on his sixteenth birthday that he and Nicole were now boyfriend and girlfriend, Sheridan and Quentin had given their approval—and the talk about the responsibility of dating as young Christians. Sheridan was also pleased that they’d joined the Dating Forum at church, a program their pastor had developed a year before.
    “Hold on, Nicole,” Sheridan said. “I’ll get Christopher for you.” As she walked to her bedroom door, she allowed herself a small grin. She