Lee Allie looked around the dining room to make sure everything was in order before she went back upstairs to get Theophilus. Dinner couldn't start until the honored guest arrived, and everybody was hungry. She was willing to bet some money that he had been waylaid by Mother Harold and her old stuck-up grandbaby, Saphronia. She would never understand why Mother Harold was so determined to marry Saphronia off to a preacher, when her own marriage to the late Bishop Harold had been stormy to the day he died.
In his heyday, Bishop Harold was as bad and bold with his skirt chasing as Rev. Ernest Brown up in Detroit. Funny thing, though. All of Bishop Harold's women ranged from chocolate to ebony, and most of them didn't go to church— at least not on a regular basis. She knew that had to hurt Mother Harold. She was so light-skinned she almost looked white, stayed up in church, and was proper and tight to the hilt. A shame. But the greater shame was the woman's determination to put the same burden on her granddaughter's shoulders.
Lee Allie was about to walk into the sanctuary when Rev. James stopped her to say, "Sister Lane, just wanted to tell you that I'm glad you asked Rev. Simmons to be our Missions Day speaker. He did a fine job and gave us something to think about."
"Well, Rev. James, I'm glad you approved the request to invite him. Had a feeling when I met Rev. Simmons there was something special about him."
Rev. James nodded his head in agreement and added, "Yeah, you right. He is special. And glad he met Miss Essie. You know that boy gettin' real sweet on your baby girl."
Lee Allie laughed. "Yes, Lord. Kind of thinking that myself. And quiet as it's kept, Miss Essie sweet on him, too. Just too stubborn to admit it."
Rev. James rubbed his chin and grinned. "Well, well, seems like there a little ole love bug runnin' up and down the highway between Memphis and Mississippi."
Lee Allie laughed and pushed at the door leading into the sanctuary.
"Sister Lane, just one more thing."
"And what's that, Rev. James?"
"Where your missionary group putting Rev. Simmons up for the night? I was expectin' to hear from y'all about that a couple of days ago but haven't heard so much as a peep from you ladies."
"He told us he wanted to stay at Rose Neese's place. That's why we haven't bothered you and Mrs. James about accommodations for the Reverend. Plus, Rose lettin' him stay there for free."
Rev. James scratched at the back of his head for a second.
"You know, the Southern Christian Leadership Conference sending some folks in this week to talk with me and some of the other Negro ministers around Charleston about what we're going to do to support the movement in this area. Rev. Simmons helped us out by calling to tell everybody about the meeting. I asked him to because I thought it was too risky to have those calls coming from anywhere around Charleston.
"One of those meetings will be at Rose Neese's, and we'll be having several of our lunches there, too. Might not be the best idea for him to stay there tonight. A few of my preachin' brothers got big mouths and just love to talk about our business with the upstanding white folk who'll listen to them. So I was thinking that Rev. Simmons should stay at Mother Harold's. She has a good reputation with the white folks in this town. They wouldn't expect her to have someone like Rev. Simmons at her house—which is just about true most of the time."
Lee Allie nodded, agreeing with what he was saying. "Then you come with me to talk to Mother Harold. She don't care too much for me and Essie and wouldn't agree to anything coming from me."
But Lee Allie almost changed her mind about asking Mother Harold to help when she saw how Saphronia had wedged herself between Essie and Rev. Simmons. She frowned, thinking to herself, "That sly-cat is just determined some preacher gone up and marry her with that white woman look on her face, clashin' with her big black behind."
She walked up to where they were standing and said more pleasantly than she felt, "Rev. Simmons, everyone is waiting for you to come on downstairs and bless the food so we can eat."
Before Theophilus could answer, Saphronia said quickly, "We have been having the most wonderful conversation about the people Rev. Simmons and I both know in Atlanta and Memphis. The world is so small, wouldn't you agree, Rev. Simmons?"
"That's very nice, Saphronia, but we have to get Rev. Simmons downstairs," Lee Allie said. "It's getting late and he has to be hungry after all of that preachin'." She tugged at the sleeve of his robe. "Now come on, let's get you fed. Wouldn't want you going back up to Memphis complaining about being hungry down here in Charleston."
Theophilus smiled at Lee Allie. "Let me get out of this hot robe and I'll meet you all downstairs." He looked at Essie, who was standing next to her mother. "Where are you sitting?"
"In the back. I'm helping Mama's missionary group serve the food."
"Rev. Simmons, I do believe you will be sitting up front at our table since Grandmother is a prominent church mother," Saphronia said, with a smug look in Essie's direction. She wanted Essie to know that a jook joint cook didn't have any business trying to compete with her for a man like Theophilus Simmons.
Theophilus looked disappointed, nodded at everyone politely, and went to change.
Meanwhile, Rev. James had found Mother Harold to ask whether she could put up Theophilus for the night, explaining that he did not want him to stay at Neese's Boarding House or any place else that might link him to the Southern Christian Leadership Conference organizers.
Mother Harold secretly thought Rev. James (and Rev. Simmons, for that matter) had no business being involved with those civil rights people, who wanted to mess with what small amount of peace the colored had down here in Mississippi. But Rev. Simmons was a preacher with the right credentials, even if he were too dark, and if he stayed with her, Saphronia would have more time in his company. She had yet to meet a dark-skinned man of the Reverend's stature who would not give anything for an opportunity to court someone like her granddaughter. Even more than Saphronia herself, Laticia Harold was determined that her only grandchild marry a minister.
After making Rev. James stand there waiting on her answer, she finally said, "I would be honored to have Rev. Simmons as my house guest. Bring him to the house after you have finished all of your men's business here at church."
"Thank you, Mother Harold. Sure hope this not too much trouble for you."
"It is not any trouble at all," she replied, setting off to catch up with Saphronia, who had gone downstairs to make sure she got a seat right next to Theophilus.
Theophilus was supposed to go to the Harolds' house right after the church dinner. He changed those plans, however, and went by the Lanes' house first. When he stepped up on the porch, he noticed all the flowers for the first time, especially the soft, pink rose bushes framing the creamy yellow wood house, with its green shutters, porch, and door. He had been so intent on seeing Essie on his last visit that he hadn't paid any attention to the front of the house. He took a deep breath to catch the fragrance of the flowers, and was about to knock when Uncle Booker opened the screen door.
"Evenin', Reverend."
"Good evening, Uncle Booker. I decided to come by and thank Mrs. Lane for inviting me to speak at Mount Nebo before I turned in at the Harolds'."
Uncle Booker was pretty sure that Theophilus really wanted to see Essie Lee and not Lee Allie, but decided not to push the issue. He said, "Well, I'm sure Lee Allie will appreciate your thoughtfulness. You go on in. They back in the kitchen talking 'bout church. Seems like from all they been saying, you preached one hell of a sermon this morning. Kind of sorry I missed it."
Uncle Booker pulled his car keys out of his pants pocket and started walking off the porch. He extended his hand toward Theophilus and said, "Be seein' you—and mind your manners in there, if you know what I mean."
Theophilus shook his hand, hoping Uncle Booker did not pick up on the look that crossed his face. He was discovering that Uncle Booker had a special gift for working on his nerves. He walked back to the kitchen and found Essie and her m
other sitting at a small red Formica-topped table, sipping on glasses of tea filled with big, juicy-looking slices of lemon. Lee Allie saw him first and got up to give him a big hug. She liked this young man and wanted to make sure that he always felt welcome in her home.
"Reverend, what a nice surprise. Didn't expect to see you this evening. Thought you'd be out at the Harolds' 'bout now, trying to get some rest."
"That was the original plan, Sister Lane. But I wanted to come by here and thank you in person for all of your hospitality. Didn't seem right to me, to leave Charleston without stopping by and thanking you in person."
Even though Theophilus was talking to Lee Allie, his eyes were on Essie. And like Lee Allie had once said, he almost forgot his home training when she stretched out one leg to reveal bare feet and dainty, peach-painted toes. It took him a few seconds to stop his eyes from traveling up her leg to the edge of the same baby blue Bermuda shorts she was wearing when he met her at Pompey's Rib Joint. He forced his eyes away from her legs and smiled at her.
"Good evening, Miss Essie. That tea sure does look refreshing."
She rattled the ice around in her glass as if to say, "It is," adding out loud, "If you want some tea, go get yourself some. Those glasses on the dish rack are clean."
Theophilus looked down at Essie still smiling that smile and watched her as she tried to stare him right back in the eyes without flinching.
"Essie Lee, where is your manners? Get up out of that chair and get this man a glass of tea."
"Oh that's all right, Sister Lane. I don't mind getting it myself," Theophilus said, still smiling at Essie, holding her eyes to his and making her flush from the intensity of the look on his face.
Sensing the electricity flowing between Theophilus and Essie, Lee Allie decided that they needed some time alone. "Theophilus, grab a seat and make yourself comfortable," she said, walking to the kitchen door. "I need to work on my report for Missions Day. Essie Lee good company when she wants to be."
He started to pour himself some tea but changed his mind and reached for a kitchen chair and sat it right next to Essie. "I feel kind of bad about the dinner," he said.
Essie moved her chair away from him a bit. "Why? Didn't you enjoy your dinner?"
"Yes, I did. But not as much as I would have if I could have spent more time with you."
She started smiling at him, then stopped when she remembered that he had spent most of the dinner talking to Saphronia McComb.
He picked up on her change of mood. "Did I say something wrong?"
"What you did was laugh and talk with Saphronia McComb almost the entire time we were at dinner."
"Essie, I'm a preacher. You and I both know that I can't be rude to folks at church, even Saphronia McComb. Comes with the job. Just like being put up for the night at Mother Harold's is part of my job, too. I'd much rather stay at Mrs. Neese's. Believe me, it's a lot of fun over there—can't imagine Mother Harold's house being anything like that."
"Yeah, being at their house will be as bad as you think it will be. I only hope you can handle Miss Saphronia Anne being all over you when you get to her house."
He got up, poured himself some tea and leaned against the refrigerator. "Essie, are you trying to tell me that Saphronia will come on to me when I'm at her house?" He shook his head at the thought of it. "Girl, I don't think she has it in her. Her butter barely melted in her mouth at church, and it came off of a hot roll."
Essie cut her eyes at him. "You can laugh if you want to. But Miss Saphronia can be something else when she wants to be."
He started laughing, trying to imagine Saphronia McComb being "something else." "What in the world can that stuck-up Miss It possibly do to me? Look at me. I'm a big man, baby."
Essie shivered. It was the second time he had called her "baby," and the feeling she got when he said that was nothing short of delicious. She said, "Delilah got Sampson good and he was a big, strong man. Don't always take a lot of strength to get to a man."
"Hmmm, don't tell me you're afraid that Miss Saphronia will get me good. Now, why would you be worrying about something like that?"
She looked away from him, thoroughly embarrassed, and started to stammer. "Uhh . . ."
"What's wrong, Essie? Cat got your tongue?" He was thoroughly amused that this tough-talking, knife-waving jook joint cook would almost gag over telling him that she was jealous that he was spending time with Saphronia McComb. He couldn't resist continuing to tease her. "Why won't you answer me, Essie Lee Lane?"
Essie looked like she wanted to crawl under the table. This woman was definitely an original, he thought—cute, sexy, prim, proper, honest, smart, irritating, and funny, very, very funny. It had been a long time since he'd met a woman who tickled him as much as Essie Lane did. He watched her for a few more seconds and thought he should give her some assurance.
"Well, just so you know, I've never been too partial to the Saphronias of this world. They can really work your nerves when they want to."
Essie was annoyed with herself for sighing with relief. As much as she hated to admit it, she really liked Theophilus. She sneaked another peek at him, trying not to stare at his long legs and the biceps that kept bulging against the short sleeves of his black cotton clerical shirt every time he moved his arms.
Theophilus pretended that he didn't know Essie was checking him out, simply delighted that she was so attracted to him. But the longer he sat there trying not to watch her watching him, the harder it became for him to stay in his chair and not snatch her up in his arms.
Essie was feeling fidgety herself. His eyes were so intense, she felt heat radiating from them. She resisted an urge to fan her face and, to break the heat, got up to put her empty glass in the sink. Looking around for something else to do, she spotted his empty glass sitting on the table, picked it up and rinsed it out, over and over again, hoping to avoid his eyes and to relieve some of the tension that had been building between the two of them ever since he walked into the kitchen.
Theophilus looked at Essie's shapely hips and thought how perfect her behind was. He closed his eyes for a moment, imagining wrapping his hands around her hips, the mere thought heating him up so much that he could no longer bear to sit in his chair. And before he had a chance to think, he had gotten up and stood right behind her at the kitchen sink.
Essie could hardly bear the sensation of Theophilus standing over her. She started to move but stopped when he placed his hands on each side of her, with his palms resting on the rim of the sink, and leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. She trembled from the exquisite warmth of that kiss and then held herself stiff to resist the irrepressible desire to lean back into this sexy, good-smelling man.
Theophilus had hoped the kiss would ease the emotions running every which way inside of him. But it only made him want more. He turned Essie around to face him and cupped her heart-shaped face gently in both his hands.
Essie thought she would melt when she felt his warm palms on her cheeks. Her breath caught in her throat when she felt his fingertips massaging the nape of her neck as he gently kissed her lips. She felt that kiss like a charge running through her body. Never in a million years could she have imagined being so ignited by a kiss—especially a kiss from a man who was a preacher.
Theophilus now drew a deep breath, kissing the corner of her mouth and whispering in a low, sensuous voice, "Essie Lane, Essie Lane," before enfolding her in his arms.
Essie's own arms, of their own accord, wrapped around Theophilus. With her palms just above his waist, she unconsciously caressed the hard muscles in his back through his clerical shirt.
At Essie's touch, Theophilus felt his temperature shoot up. Almost against his will, he pressed her to the sink and kissed her slowly, smoothly, forcefully.
For a moment, Essie got lost in the wonder of the feeling of his body moving against her own. But when a heavy sigh escaped from her lips, it dawned on her that they were moving too fast, way too fast. This was the first time she had
ever kissed him and the intensity of the feelings running between her and Theophilus scared her. As if breaking some kind of spell, Essie snapped her eyes open and pushed him away from her.
Her push was like a couple of ice cubes dumped down the back of his shirt. "It seems as if we got a bit carried away," he said, raggedly. "I never meant to . . . I . . . just . . . couldn't help myself."
"We got carried away?" Essie said indignantly.
Theophilus stepped back and looked at her. He was not about to let her stand there and pin all of that kissing, hugging, and sighing on him. He knew that she had been giving just as good as she had gotten.
"Yes, Essie," he said matter-of-factly. "We got carried away— you and me, me and you."
"Well," she said, as if she was trying to dismiss that reality. "You were getting too familiar-acting with me."
Theophilus decided not to push the point. He realized that she was uncomfortable with her own response and that she had little experience with men. Yet she was a deeply passionate woman. Those clothes, the way she put on makeup, and that walk drove him crazy. And, pressed against her, he had sensed a deeper current of desire in her than he had ever dreamed was there. The thought of being the only man ever to know that passion was almost enough to make him want to marry her. Marriage. A shiver ran up his spine that was so strong it made his shoulders twitch.
"What's wrong with you?" Essie asked.
"Felt a shiver."
"Must be your conscience bothering you."
Theophilus leaned against the counter that faced the kitchen sink, folding his arms across his chest and crossing his legs at the ankles.
"I bet you'd just love for me to have a whipped conscience about now. But I don't. And I'll tell you something, Essie. If you think I wanted you, you're right—I definitely wanted you. And it's a good thing your mama is in this house or else I would have been hard pressed not to take this further."
Essie pointed her finger at Theophilus, wagging it back and forth as she said, "And I guess you think that I was just gonna stand there and let you go as far as the high heavens, huh?" She put her hands on her hips, leaned back on those big legs, and was about to say some more when Lee Allie walked into the kitchen.
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