Challah and Callaloo
By La Toya Hankins
“You know I’m an ordained minister, right? We can get two of your friends over tomorrow, set up in your living room, and get this whole wedding situation nipped in the bud,” Leah Tubman’s office manager said while the two stood waiting for the office coffee maker to finish brewing their morning salvation. The mechanic purring of the twelve-cup appliance punctured her offer. Completing its task, the deliverer of all good things hot and black sat waiting.
“I mean, I’m not trying to be all up in your business, but I hear you on the phone, trying to coordinate everything. Some days, you make me want to pull my hair out. That is saying a lot, considering how much I paid for this sew-in last month.”
“I appreciate the gesture, Stephanie. But, after the
