I Left My Back Door Open Read Free Page B

refrigerator. It was always a struggle, but nights were the worst. Langston rubbed up against my leg and purred. Cats are very sensitive. They can tune into your emotions, when they want to. I held Langston up in front of me and delivered my speech.
    â€œIf I could only stop eating at night, I could lose some of this behind. If I could only stop eating at night, my bra straps wouldn’t dig into my shoulders to support my D cups and leave painful marks. If I could only stop eating at night, my thighs wouldn’t play patty-cake with each other and stick together on hot days. If I could only stop eating at night, I wouldn’t have to attach a rubber band through the buttonhole of last year’s pants, so I can still fasten them.”
    Maybe the day will come when I can even tuck my shirts and blouses inside my pants and skirts , I thought. Naah, that was going too far. I would probably never have a flat stomach again.
    â€œBut just maybe I can remove the tire from around my waist.” I sighed as Langston wriggled free and jumped to the floor.
    These were my dreams. And I knew that they were achievable if I drank my bottled water and went to bed. But, of course, I didn’t, because I hadn’t forgotten how good cold pizza tasted, especially when you washed it down with leftover birthday cake, potato chips and beer.

two
    â€œMarriage is like flies on a screen!” the preacher shouted, pausing to wipe the sweat from his shiny, brown forehead. “Follow me now,” he instructed.
    â€œBreak it on down, Reverend,” an older man in the large congregation shouted back.
    I sat with Sarita, her husband Phil and their nine-year-old son Jason in Glorious Kingdom Baptist Church.
    â€œI said, marriage is like flies on a screen,” the minister repeated.
    There was a chorus of “Amens” as people fanned themselves in the crowded church.
    â€œI’m gon’ say it again,” the preacher insisted, raising his eyebrows.
    â€œYassuh!”
    â€œI said, I’m gonna say it one more time,” Reverend Stewart yelled, holding up his index finger. “And this time, I’m gonna say it with feeling.”
    â€œTake your time, Reverend!”
    â€œI’m gonna say it like I mean it!” The minister clapped and danced away from the podium in his black robe.
    â€œPreach, Reverend, Preach!”
    â€œStick with me, now.” The pastor gazed at the congregation as if we were on the brink of some important discovery.
    â€œCome on, Reverend. Bring it on home now!”
    â€œMarriage is like flies on a screen! Some can’t wait to get out!” The pastor balled his fists and imitated the posture of a runner, twisting his body to one side. “And some can’t wait to get in!” he shouted, twisting to the other side. “Now, can I get a witness?”
    Several large, gaily dressed sistas leapt out of their seats and waved their hands. Sarita had been right. Almost none of the women in the congregation looked like they’d ever missed a meal, including Sarita.
    â€œWhen you build a house,” Reverend Stewart continued, raising his arms to call for the congregation’s attention, “you don’t build it outta sand.” He shook his balding head. “No, because the first high tide will wash it away. And when you build a house, you don’t build it outta straw.” Reverend Stewart shook his head again. “No, because fire can easily destroy it. You build your house outta something strong, something durable, something that will stand the test of time.” He pounded his fist in the air, then added with a smile, “And, by the same token, you build a marriage on something solid, if you want it to last.” Reverend Stewart tucked his lips in and nodded his head solemnly. “You build your marriage on the Rock of Ages.”
    The minister cupped his hands as if he were holding a large rock.
    â€œAmen, Reverend,