Sweet Potato Jones

by Jen Lowry

  I paused for a split second, because I wasn’t sure how to explain. “You know, you have always thought it was by chance where your finger would hit the map. But, Daddy, I’ve come to a revelation of my own. An angel, Jesus, Momma … whatever it was, it was something extra this time. Maybe it was all of them looking out for me, for us, because we are here. We are in this place, and God is all in it. One hundred percent, this time. I am going to let myself believe it. For the first time, I am going to believe it all, and you have to, too. We need the faith of a family, and you are the one supposed to be leading us, not leaving us behind.”

  Daddy sighed heavily.

  “Calendar, Sweet Potato.”

  He was sending me a signal that I wasn’t ready to receive, not yet. I believed. That meant I could call in for miracles, too.

  “Hand of Jesus over me, over you, Daddy.”

  My finger twirled around his face, and he smiled an enduring, sad smile. He was such a fine-looking man. I wondered how Daddy had managed all these years to have never brought a woman home to us—but then again, never once had we really had a home for him to bring her to. Eli Jones must be one sad and lonely creature, roaming without that kind of companionship and care. He was missing out on something mighty special. I’d never even thought about the emotional needs Daddy might have. Until now. And the feelings rushing toward my pounding heart to know I’d see Ray again in about five more minutes, if I got a move on, made me hurt for Daddy who had no one to rush to but us.

  “Speaking of Jesus. Your boy has invited me to church tonight for the men’s meeting. We’re all going, it seems. First Lady Anderson wants to meet with Bell for the choir spotlight. Seems like they have choir practice religiously there.” And you could tell it, too, because they all sounded like a beautiful host of angels.

  “Me, too? To a men’s meeting?” Ray. Soul Food. Oh, Lordy, no!

  “No. You workin’, child. Go on, too, before we both get fired.” He opened the door again as I hurried on down the hallway. He didn’t have to tell me twice.

  I hollered behind me, “Remember what I said, Daddy.”

  He yelled back, “I never forget the words that come out of your mouth, Sweet Potato Pie. It’s like butter covering my veggie-loving soul.”

  Ray’s eager face popped out through the silver cut-out when I came in. His smile was radiant, a bright light at the end of my dark tunnel.

  He announced, “Sweet Potato is here.”

  Mrs. Sunshine burst through the doors. “Thank heavens!” She put her arm around me and squeezed. “How was it? I’ve got to hear it. Every single detail, now.”

  I didn’t know how to explain it to them. “Different.”

  Ray was there now, and my heart was soaring higher, about to reach the tin ceiling. “I told you The Dream was a safe place.” He took my hand, smiling at me in a way that told me I was truly his. “You don’t have to worry no more.”

  I was still trying to figure out how to describe our day. “We didn’t get picked on none.” That was the best I could do.

  Mr. Jackson, one of the regulars, was right behind us, nosey as ever. “If you would’ve got picked on, I’d have to go out to that school in the morning and show them my muscles.” He held out his at least seventy-year-old wrinkled and skinny arm, and I couldn’t help but grin back at his broken-toothed smile.

  “I told you. The Dream is a model school. It’s a place to be safe and to learn. That’s what it’s all about. You have a future there.” He squeezed my hand.

  Here. A future here. Maize is going to make it out all right.

  My eyes filled with tears. They fell on down uncontrollably. It was like a dam had burst after a hundred years, and now the rushing water was going to swallow the world up whole.

  Mrs. Sunshine tugged on my apron strings. “What is it, child?”

  I shook my head, trying to clear my eyes. “It’s okay. Just give me a minute.”

  I took off to the bathroom to wash my face. These youngins were the heart of me, and they’d had a good day. It was too hard to try to put that kinda feeling into words for people to understand … normal people like the Pattersons, that is. Days were good for them more than they were bad. That was the difference between me and them.

  Ray was waiting by the bathroom door. I regained my composure. “Get that frown off your face now. I’m fine, really.”

  He wasn’t convinced. “What are you not telling me?”

  “Just how much I love the kids. It’s about them. It’s not about me.” I took his hand this time, and he tried to smile, but he still didn’t seem sure. “I had a good day. I had to let out the good.”

  He laughed quietly, his voice refreshing like a summer rain. “That was good. What happens when I try to kiss you? You gonna cry on me about that, too?”

  I bit my lip. The kiss. “I don’t know. I haven’t bridged that one yet. And it might not be good, so I don’t know. Don’t go thinking too highly of yourself, Ray Patterson.”

  He moved in a little closer, and I got a smell of him. Not a disinfecting table cleaning smell—more like a spice, like cinnamon and brown sugar. “I’m about to do some construction and start building that bridge. I’ll show you good.”

  My eyes lit up with love for him. “Well, this ain’t no place for no first kiss.”

  He nodded. “I’m working on that, too. See, my blueprints for the bridge are all working out in my brain. And it’s called our first date.”

  He pointed up to his head, knocking his temple, and I laughed.

  “Don’t overwork yourself. The foreman ain’t gonna agree to nothing like that, no way.”

  Me on a date! Please. I couldn’t even imagine that conversation between Daddy and Ray. Daddy might try to throw Ray off that rooftop.

  Ray spoke with the courage of a lion. “Don’t you worry about your Daddy.”

  He grabbed my hand and spun me around toward his momma. She picked up my arm and started swinging me to an upbeat gospel tune on the radio that had the whole place clapping or popping the silver tables. Mrs. Sunshine belted out some fancy notes, and I let it out with her.

  Ray was rocking by my side, humming along, and praising the Lord. Mr. Joe was throwing up the spatula, and the Lord was letting that rainbow shine right over me as the music played on. Nothing could touch me or my family here. We might be safe. Our emotions were a trampled-up stampede of a million African elephants, but the best thing to do in cases like this was to sing and move on.

  But how long would these feel-good moments last if that lovely boy was going to the church meeting tonight and asking Daddy about a date night? When it was his time to leave, I wished him good luck as he was walking out the door.

  He smiled at me—that precious smile that had my heart on fire. “Call me Irish, blessed, whatever you like, but I don’t need luck when I have the love of the Lord—” He winked at me. “—and you.”

  The little bell rang, reminding me somebody up there might have earned a new set of wings. Maybe it was even Momma, and she was the one guiding us right to this place. Maybe they’d let her into heaven, after all.

  Mrs. Sunshine watched me as the night went on. She fanned my face. “Is it too hot in here, child? You’re right sweating.”

  I hadn’t even noticed, but when she brought it to my attention, I realized my brow was soaked with beaded dew. “Sorry, Mrs. Sunshine. I can’t stand this pressure, that’s all.”

  “Pressure? Child, you go and worry yourself into a tizzy over trivial things. That’s a habit-forming thing. You need to pray that away.” She waved the menu at me, whooshing my hair.

  “Like Ray getting mutilated in the church yard? That’s not a little thing.”

  She laughed heartily, but I was dead serious. I hoped Ray would make it through this night with all his teeth.

  “Well, it seems like they made it out all just fine.” She pointed out through the glass windows. And there was my family, right around Ray, circling
him like he was a king and they were his subjects.

  He was smiling, and right away I saw that his teeth were all in place. I mouthed, “Are you okay?”

  He winked at me again. Bean jumped on his back while they were coming through the door, and Ray spun him around. Daddy waved and smiled at me. Maize was already picking up the little dessert menu by the silver napkin holders.

  He bellowed, “Ray said we could pick out any dessert we wanted tonight. That we’re celebrating something. Some kind of surprise!”

  I held my breath. Could it be true? Mrs. Sunshine welcomed my family all in and ushered them into the corner booth. Daddy pulled his neatly folded apron out from behind the counter drawer and put it over his only pair of church-going clothes, heading to the back. I didn’t get a glimpse of the apron front. What could it say? Stay here, my son. No more trifling or strife. No more twenty weeks for you here … just the rest of your life. But knowing Mrs. Sunshine it was another Bible verse, and I didn’t think the Lord had my specifics worked out in minute details that could be embroidered.

  Ray slid out of the booth and came to stand beside me, still laughing at Bell. She was talking about how at choir practice one lady got right happy when she was singing and fell over the front pew. Ray nodded at Mrs. Sunshine.

  “They’ve compared her to Mahalia Jackson down at the church, Momma.”

  I frowned. “Who is that? Does she sing there?”

  Mrs. Sunshine screamed right out, almost scaring the pants right off me. “Mahalia Jackson? Sweet, singing-gospel, enchantress Mahalia Jackson?”

  I guessed she was famous, after that reaction. Mrs. Sunshine took off like she was on some personal mission to uncover a secret treasure. In a minute, she was back, carrying a case of CDs and an old portable CD player that showed years of love.

  She pointed to Bell’s iPod. “What you got playing on that thing all the time, child?”

  Bell held it up preciously, like it was worth a million to her. “My Broadway stuff. I like to hear the musicals, like Phantom of the Opera or The Wiz. Music like that.”

  Mrs. Sunshine pointed to the CD, raising it high and praising the Lord as her foot stomped to an invisible rhythm. “Gospel, baby. That’s your gift from God. You listen once to Mahalia Jackson, and then you’ll see. Hook, line, and sinker. Just listen.”

  There was still some chitter-chatter from some of the customers eating a late dinner. But once Mahalia started, that all stopped. Even Daddy and Mr. Joe came out from the back. She was singing “His Eye is on the Sparrow,” and my heart stopped right in its cage.

  Those words, I sing because I am the one who is free …

  The power behind the voice was not of a woman, but of angels singing like how I felt when I heard Bell sing. And I knew whoever thought of Bell this way knew the feeling, too.

  Bell had tears streaming down her face at the end of the song, and Mrs. Sunshine was wiping hers with the back of her sleeve. Bell broke the silence, her tiny voice filled with wonderment.

  “Can I have some of those songs on my iPod?”

  She handed the iPod to Ray, and he took it gingerly in his hands. “I’ll take care of it for you, Bell. I’ll download you all kinds of music I think will inspire you, and I’ll have it for you tomorrow after school.”

  Her eyes lit up with the brilliance of a thousand stars. She squealed with pure joy, “Would you really do that for me, Ray? Did you hear that, Sweet Potato? He’s gonna get me some new songs!”

  Ray looked at Daddy more than at Bell. “I’d do whatever I could for your family. Whatever it takes.”

  Daddy must’ve received the message, and he nodded a yes to him. “Go on, son. You can take her out like you asked, but with our discussed conditions, and on one condition more.”

  My heart hadn’t started beating yet, and I told my nervous system to wait a second more before sending the beat signal.

  When Ray spoke, I closed my eyes. “Yes, sir?”

  Ray held my hand, and I felt the release of my heart and breath and blood pumping all in such a rush that I was lightheaded.

  Daddy went on back through the silver doors, letting them swing closed behind him. Mahalia was still around us, Mrs. Sunshine was winking at me, and the hand of the man I loved was resting firmly in mine.

  Maize clapped. “That pie? Where’s my pie, people? Promises, promises.”

  Ray closed the distance to me and said, “You and I have the building permit. The inspection’s approved. Friday night is the ribbon-cutting.”

  I was still confused in all the commotion. “Does that mean Daddy actually agreed to us going out?”

  Bean hollered out, “Yeah, Sweet Potato. You and Ray get to go out smooching on a date because I heard him ask Daddy at the church corner, which I must say was the proper place to build up courage, and after a few choice words I ain’t allowed to repeat on the case of getting popped, Daddy agreed. And that’s what Ray’s called a ‘celebration night,’ and that’s why we’re getting us some pie. You go out on as many dates as you want. You’ve got my blessing. Order up!”

  Ray laughed. “Now, Bean …”

  I turned to Bean, then to Bell, who knew the secret even before me.

  Bell nodded. “We all get to go on your date with you, Sweet Potato. Like official chaperones. Mrs. Sunshine, do you think you could make us up some fancy nametags?”

  I sighed, understanding the catch—that condition had been previously discussed and recorded. A family date and my first date combined all up into one. How typical Jones. But what did I mind, honestly? Those kids were mine. Ray was mine. The world was mine. I had claimed the sky and it wasn’t falling on top of me yet. I couldn’t complain. Not one bit.

  I went to taking orders, and Ray went stealing over to his momma, who seemed delighted in the role that she was now taking as planning committee chairperson for the Jones Family Date Night Special. After the orders were in, I grabbed Bell and led her outside.

  “Okay, spill it. I can’t wait till this is over.” My eyes scanned to see if Daddy was watching, but he was busy in the back.

  She told it all. “Ray was bold, Sweet Potato. You would have been right proud of him, and when Daddy said no, he shook his hand anyway and said, ‘I appreciate the chance to discuss this with you, sir, and I will be again in the future.’” The way that she tried to sound like Ray was hilarious, and I couldn’t help but hug her and laugh.

  I sighed. “So, Daddy did say no.”

  “No, then yes. After Maize got to him.”

  Her gaze hit my goofy, little brother, my best friend, sitting right there in that booth gobbling down pie and licking the fork clean.

  “Maize? Go ahead. Tell it now before I lose it.”

  She squeezed my hand, delighted that she had a story of her own to tell and one of such importance. “Maize told Daddy all how you deserved to be happy on the account of you taking care of us our whole life, and now it was time for somebody else to take care of you.”

  She nodded, tears framing her lashes. I was so choked up I couldn’t even begin to talk, to breathe again. She smiled softly, her beautiful, long curls framing her face.

  “And he was right, you know. And Daddy couldn’t deny the truth, not in that churchyard. Not after that mighty big singing practice where that lady flipped over the pew and that time when Ray went to testifying joy in the men’s church meeting. It was all too overwhelming for Daddy, and the spirit of the Lord was resting upon his heart. He knew this was right, that Ray was right. So, he came up with the conditions.”

  I wanted to ask her what conditions, but I bit my lip, afraid if I spoke, I wouldn’t be able to stop the tears. I would’ve never thought my youngins would’ve fought for me like that.

  She knew I needed the whole gravy spill anyway, and she listed them right out for me like a shopping list. “First condition, to The Home by ten. Second condition, we all get to go, even Bean … sorry, that one wasn’t negotiable. I tried. Third, no ki
ssing, just handholding, and we have to report back, and I can’t lie. So, you better not be kissing on that boy with me there responsible, even though he is fine and all.”

  I nodded, scared to even think of it right now, anyway. “So, all this is really happening.” My head hit the glass, leaning up against the faded lettering of the door.

  “All of it and more. Sweet Potato, for some reason, this is all straight out of some storybook, you know. I doubted about them fairy tales, you know. But now, I don’t know. I think I might just be starting to believe that …”

  I pulled her in my arms and gave her a sweet, big hug. “Don’t start. Believe it right now, Bell. I need your faith with mine.”

  “Okay, okay. I believe, too. Now let me go in and eat my pie before Maize gets to my plate next.”

  I nodded, watching as she went back into the restaurant just as my man was exiting. He smiled, spinning me on the pavement right there under the streetlight.

  “Well, did you hear the full-out story?”

  I nodded, shy all of a sudden.

  “And … you aren’t upset, are you?”

  I nodded again, this time biting my lip, scared to speak but too afraid not to. “I know Daddy said I couldn’t kiss you on our date on Friday night, so come here. It’s Monday. That doesn’t count.”

  He laughed softly, bringing me closer to him.

  “I love you, Sweet Potato Jones.”

  His lips fell tenderly against mine as his arms circled around my back. He pulled away, eyes gleaming. Love pouring out and spilling over. The sweetest of first kisses—it had to be. The one that was meant to be.

  I whispered, “I’m glad you do, Ray Patterson.”

  And I kissed him right back. This time, I let go. Letting my arms find his neck, feeling him close to me. Feeling every ounce of emotion that was in me and him, all together in that one kiss.

  When he finally pulled back, he nodded. “Mmm … mmm … mmm … I might need to go and renegotiate my contract for Friday night. To know that I’ll have to go a whole night without kissing you, after this … it would hurt me. Devastate me.”