Lead Me Home by Stacy Hawkins Adams

this.
    Lord, you have a sense of humor. You really do.
    “You bet, Monica. I’ll bring some ideas to class tomorrow. Or if you want me to email you some pieces to consider, shoot me an email so I’ll have your address, and we’ll go from there.”
    Monica gave her a thumbs-up before scooting from the classroom.
    Shiloh smiled as she disappeared. The girl’s lanky frame reminded Shiloh of herself at that age. So did Monica’s hopes and dreams. How had one fateful summer killed hers?

eighteen
    Jade’s call canceling Naima’s flute lesson came that afternoon right after school, and as far as Shiloh was concerned, it was right on time.
    “I … I’m not myself tonight. I’m going to stay home and take some medicine,” Jade said. “Naima’s disappointed because she loves spending time with you, but we’ll pick up where we left off next week, okay? I’ll plan to see you Wednesday night at Bible study, and I’ll lead the session, like we discussed.”
    Shiloh hadn’t wished an illness on St. Stephens’ “Second Lady,” but she was grateful for a break from the scrutiny Jade’s visits to her home always yielded, and from hearing about Jade’s fabulous life. Shiloh believed that she wasn’t feeling well, though. Jade had seemed distracted at the last two Bible studies, asking members to repeat their comments, then still giving idiotic replies to whatever they shared, as if she hadn’t accurately heard them. Nicholas had just turned two, but Shiloh was beginning to wonder if she was under the weather because she was pregnant again.
    Whatever the reason, tonight’s reprieve was perfect. Not having Naima this afternoon would give her a chance to start dinner early and begin researching flute solos for Monica’s audition. While David worked at the kitchen table on his fourth grade art project and the tilapia baked, Shiloh sat across from him, in front of her laptop, and searched for musical scores in an appropriate level of play for Monica. There were the traditional and lovely flute solos the judges were likely used to hearing, but she also searched for some contemporary piecesthe girl might like. “Ribbon in the Sky” or “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” might be nice surprises.
    When Shiloh wrapped up her research, she checked her messages and saw that Monica had followed through with forwarding her email address. Shiloh sent the girl links to the various musical scores she had selected and suggested that Monica play around with each of them to pinpoint her favorite few.
    That task accomplished, Shiloh closed the laptop and left the table to check on dinner. The baked tilapia smelled delicious, and a quick check of the pot on the stove indicated the rice would be ready in minutes.
    Raphael burst through the kitchen door with a water bottle in one hand and his football in the other. Another blessing tonight had been having him ride home with a teammate rather than having to be picked up.
    “Hey, son,” Shiloh said. “How was practice?”
    He had reached the age where he could now play for his school, rather than in a community recreation league, and so far he loved his coach and teammates.
    “Good,” he said, and put his bag and ball in a corner.
    “You know you have to take those things up to your room,” Shiloh said without looking his way. “And when you’re done, you can help me get the salad ready.”
    “Aw, Mom,” Raphael said.
    “Aw, son,” Shiloh said.
    She strolled over and hugged his waist, marveling at the fact that at just twelve, he was already her height. Five-seven or not, she was still mama.
    “You’ll thank me when you’re all grown and you know how to take care of yourself and prepare your own meals. David is trying to finish his art project, but I’ll have him set the table to make it all fair.Your older brothers have been doing their part, too, since I’ve been working.”
    Raphael shook his head. “You and Daddy don’t have to do anything anymore.”
    Shiloh poked his