Under the Peach Tree

by Charlay Marie

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Momma May praised. “Oh, Lord, oh, Jesus, bless this child who needs you more than ever. Show her the way to you, Father. In Jesus’ name, allow her to see your love. Allow her to be saved by the blood of Jesus! Oh, Lord Jesus! Yes! Allow your holy spirit to rest upon her as you forgive her of her sins. And as you forgive her, allow her to forgive those who’ve sinned against her. Allow her to place her past behind her and move into her destiny, Lord! Thank you, Jesus!”

  We stayed that way for what seemed like hours, crying and praising God as I finally accepted Him into my heart.

  Dante didn’t come around for a few days. I felt anxious without him near. It was almost like I used him as a crutch. Whenever I was bored, I’d pick on him. Whenever I was happy, I’d laugh with him. Whenever I needed to busy myself to keep my demons at bay, I’d do housework with him. Momma May didn’t have anyone to play checkers with, and so I had to learn. After a few games, I got the hang of it.

  “How can you play checkers when you can’t see?” I hoped my question didn’t offend her.

  “You see the dots on the pieces? It’s brail. Dante got it specially made for me. Plus I memorize my moves. I know which pieces are mine and which are his. You’d be surprised to know all the things you can still do when blind.”

  I smiled. “Dante is faithful to you.”

  “When his mom died, he was lost. God used me to help him find his way again,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Why he ain’t been around lately?”

  “Dante’s mom passed away around this time a few years ago. He doesn’t take it so good. He does this every year, but he usually comes around after a few days.”

  I nodded, relieved. “I thought I did something wrong.”

  And then it occurred to me. Maybe Dante slept in my bed that evening because it was he who didn’t want to be alone. When he woke up, he realized it was the day his mom passed away and rushed out of my room.

  “No,” Momma May said. “That boy admires you.”

  “You think?” I asked, smiling.

  “Oh, I know. You’re all he talks about when we’re playing checkers.”

  I laughed and decided to change the subject. It was an awkward conversation to have with an old woman. I also wasn’t ready to accept the possibility of Dante liking me.

  “How did his mom die?”

  “Suicide.”

  I gasped, knocking over all of the checker pieces. I bent over, picking them all up, shunning myself. “I’m sorry,” I said. “You was gonna win anyway.”

  “Hey, Momma!”

  I hadn’t realized Norma was on the porch until she spoke. I looked up at her, noticing her relaxed and almost happy smile. There was still something unnerving about her but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I placed all of the checker pieces on the board and stood.

  “Hope, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Yeah,” I said and then turned to Momma May. “I’ll be back.”

  Norma led the way into the kitchen and took a seat. I sat across from her and waited for her to speak. I didn’t forget about the last conversation we had, the one where she admitted to placing a second mortgage on Momma May’s home. I wondered how long she had before the home foreclosed. I hoped Dante had already paid it off. How could she do that to her own grandmother? How could she go behind the most amazing woman’s back and steal her identity to get a mortgage? But then I remembered the things I did to my momma, how I slept with her man. I wasn’t the one to judge.

  “Dante came by with a check to pay off the mortgage. They’re processing the lien release and said it would take a few weeks to a month to be free and clear,” she said.

  “And you’re telling me this because . . . ?”

  “I figured you’d want some peace of mind and I figured we could keep this between the three of us, pretend it never happened,” she said with a hushed voice.

  “But it did happen.” I sighed. “I ain’t a snitch. I am gonna tell you how I feel, though.”

  “I don’t need backlash from a child.” She snorted.

  “It ain’t backlash, it’s the truth. And you should feel bad that a child would even feel the need to tell a grown woman about herself. What does that say about you? Momma May could’ve lost everything she spent her life trying to build. It ain’t nothing but the grace of God that allowed Dante to pay the loan off.”

  Norma gave me a puzzled look. “So you believe in God now?” She almost laughed. I wanted to hit her, but the good Lord stopped me.

  “I do. Well, I’m getting there,” I told her. “Thanks to Momma May. And don’t try to turn this around on me.”

  Norma stood up, clutching her purse close. “Look, I gotta go to work. I’m late. I don’t have time for this.”

  “Yup.” I watched her storm out of the kitchen. She was the type of woman who would never learn from her own mistakes.

  Momma May and I spent the rest of the day bonding. She told me stories about her husband while I brushed her long silver hair. She had some good memories. Some were so funny I fell to the ground in tears, laughing. And then she told me about one of the best days of her life: her wedding day.

  “I was so nervous,” she began. “One of our friends had sewn me a nice, beautiful dress, but at that time I was pregnant with my first, and so the dress didn’t fit. My husband told me to cut a big hole in the belly.”

  “Did you?”

  “No! Half the things that came out of that man’s mouth was nonsense. My wedding dress was a gift from God, but I’ll tell you about that story later. Did I ever tell you that I’ve been living in this house since we married? We lived a good life together. We had two beautiful girls and couldn’t ask for more. He was a great father, always there for his family. A true man of God.” Her eyes saddened. “When he passed away, I didn’t know how I’d manage. I spent many months fasting and praying. I thought our church we built would fall apart, but God didn’t let that happen. I took my husband’s place and became the pastor. I didn’t think people would follow a woman, but they did. I got our church back on its feet and kept preaching the Word of God. People came from all over the country to hear the blind woman preach.”

  “How did he pass away?”

  Momma May closed her eyes, revisiting the memory. “Car accident, Christmas of 1978. He was hit by a drunk driver coming home from a late night at the church. I was sitting at home with my grandbabies, wrapping gifts for friends and family. They wanted to open one present, which was a tradition passed on to them from their parents. I told them to wait for Grandpa to come home. There was a knock on the door. The girls jumped up, excited, thinking it was Grandpa, but I was thinking why would he knock when he had a key? I got up and went to the door. It was the police. They told me about the accident, said my husband died on the way to the hospital.

  “Losing the love of your life is the hardest thing one will ever have to go through. I felt like I lost half of myself. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. God took away my true love, but He brought new ones here. You and Dante ain’t the first kids to come to my doorstep. From the eighties until now, God blessed me to be able to help out kids who were around your age. They’d come to the church, lost and needing love, and God allowed me to shower them with it. It was my calling, to love those who knew no love. God is an awesome God.”

  “And you’re an awesome woman,” I told her. “I’m so grateful for everything, Momma May.”

  “Don’t thank me, baby. Thank God.”

  Dante showed up the next day, looking happy, greeting us like he hadn’t been missing for days. I understood why he did it, but it hurt knowing that he hadn’t told me. He shut me out. I’d opened up to him about my life, my past, and he couldn’t even let me in. Maybe I didn’t deserve it or hadn’t earned it. I couldn’t expect him to open up to me just because I confided in him. But I was still disappointed.

  “Hey, Hope.” I turned away from him, ignoring him. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m gonna get somethin
g to drink, you want anything?” I asked Momma May.

  “I’m fine, baby,” Momma May replied.

  I stood up, bumping Dante’s shoulder as I went inside. He followed. I went to the refrigerator, dramatically swinging the door open. I grabbed a can of soda and shook it up. Dante stared at me like a lost puppy.

  “Hope, what did I do?”

  I turned around, burning holes in his eyes. “I opened up to you about everything! Things I ain’t even told Momma May when she was conscious. But I told you! And what do you do? You comfort me the whole evening, making me feel special, and then in the morning, you take off running. I thought I did something wrong! I ignored the hurt I felt for three days!”

  “Hope, it wasn’t you.”

  “Oh, I know now because I had to hear it from Momma May!” I continued shaking up the can of soda with fury. “She told me about your mom passing away. Well, why ain’t you tell me yourself?”

  “Because—”

  “Wrong answer! Let me show you how I feel about you right now.” I faced the can of soda toward him and opened it. The drink sprayed all over his clothes, soaking him. He gasped, taking a step back.

  I watched him, soaked and shocked. He didn’t know what to do with himself and I couldn’t hold the anger any longer. Seeing him standing there looking crazy, my anger quickly turned into laughter. I fell on the floor, laughing so hard my stomach knotted. Dante ended up following suit and collapsed beside me, laughing just as hard. Our laughter didn’t subside for minutes.

  “I’m sorry, Dante. I was so mad,” I said, pulling myself up to sit against the refrigerator.

  “I should be angry right about now,” he said, licking soda off of his fingertips. “If I’m gonna be sticky, you will be too.”

  Before I could fully register what he meant, he leaped at me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pushing himself against me so that I could get wet. I screamed, trying to pull away, but he had me locked. He was stronger than I thought.

  And then he kissed me. His lips were soft against mine, causing butterflies to go crazy inside of my stomach. I thought about running my hands through his hair, pulling him closer and tasting more of him, but the kiss ended all too quickly as he rushed to his feet, backing away. “I’m sorry,” he said, blushing wildly. I stood up, walking up to him, shaking my head. “I’m so—”

  And then my mouth was on his, tasting the soda on his lips, pulling him as close as he could get, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.

  “What’s all the hollerin’ for?”

  Dante and I froze in our passionate kiss. Our eyes darted to Momma May, who stood just outside of the kitchen. I slowly pulled away from Dante, straightening my shirt. Momma May took a step in the kitchen, inches away from stepping in the soda.

  “No!” I shouted. “Don’t come into the kitchen! Dante spilled soda!”

  “Me?” Dante whispered, amused that I’d throw him under the bus.

  “I mean, I spilled it . . . on him. It’s everywhere, like a murder scene.”

  “Okay, clean it up,” Momma May said, walking away. “And stop kissing in my kitchen. I could hear you two smooching from the front porch!”

  Chapter 15

  I turned to Dante, whose cheeks were rose red from the kiss. He opened the back door and stepped onto the back porch. He leaned against the railing, trying to get some air. I followed him outside, watching as he bent over the railing as if in pain.

  “Lord, please forgive me,” he said.

  I folded my arms, slightly offended for the apology to God and headed back inside. Why did he feel the need to apologize? It was a kiss! A simple, almost meaningless, caught-in-the-moment kiss! What was the big deal? It felt like a heap of cold, bitter rejection. I sighed and stormed back into the house.

  Why did I care? It wasn’t like I liked Dante in that way. If anything, I thought him to be weird and a little annoying. But to like him? No. I didn’t. Not in that way. So then why was I trying to convince myself that I didn’t?

  I walked onto the front porch, took a seat next to Momma May, and closed my eyes, listening to the sound of nature all around me. Something about it soothed me, made me feel whole. But not today. I still had a case of anxiety. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, but nothing. I was still thinking about Dante. The kiss. How I really felt about it.

  “Why you over there breathing all hard?” Momma May asked. “Probably because of all the kissing in my kitchen!”

  “I’m sorry, Momma May.”

  “Don’t apologize.” She smiled. “Love doesn’t need an apology.”

  I sat up in my chair. “Love?” I laughed. “No, I don’t love Dante. It was a mistake, a moment of . . .” I sighed. “It’s weird talking to you about it.”

  “If you can’t talk to me, who can you talk to?” She was right. “How is your walk with Jesus coming along?”

  Well, I hadn’t really been walking with the Lord. That day after I felt His presence, I hadn’t really given much thought to it again. I didn’t know what to do. I was still my same self. “Not good,” I admitted.

  “And why is that, baby?”

  I sighed. “I don’t know. I just ain’t thought about it. I got too many things going on in my mind.”

  “Do you want to be closer to God?”

  “I guess.”

  “Do you want to know Jesus personally?”

  “Yes.”

  “Jeremiah 4:3: ‘For thus saith the Lord to the men of Judah and Jerusalem, Break up your fallow ground, and sow not among thorns.’ Do you know what that means? Well, it could mean different things to different people at different times. But in this case, the fallowed ground is your past hurt. How can we have a close relationship with God if our lives are being controlled by past pain and regret? How can we experience Him if we stay distant? First, you need to break up all of the negative and hurtful things keeping you from God. The root is damaged. Nothing can be fruitful if the root is dead. So you have to fix the underlying cause of what’s keeping you away from God. Also, He says, ‘sow not among thorns.’

  “Picture planting a garden around thorns. Once the flowers start to bloom, they get bruised by the nearby thorns and die. So once you dig up all of the pain and hurt that’s keeping you from God, you have to move out of that place of thorns and into a clear, protected place. Do you understand?”

  I thought about what she said. “Not really.”

  “God wants you to fix the root of the problem and then move into a better position so that you can be fruitful and have a relationship with Him. You believe in Jesus now, you’ve repented, but you haven’t changed. You can’t change, either, not until you break up your fallow ground and sow not among thorns. Get rid of those negative thoughts, worldly pleasures, forgive those who hurt you, stay away from the things that tempt you to backslide, and begin building your relationship with God on better grounds.”

  “And what if I can’t?”

  “You are already on better grounds,” she told me. “What you need to do now is pray.”

  I was instantly frustrated. “Everyone says pray, but I don’t understand why we have to pray. What good is it when nothing ever changes?”

  “I’ve told you this before. Prayers never go unanswered. God knows what we need before we even begin praying. He’s already made up His mind on how to answer. Tell me one thing you’ve prayed about that wasn’t answered.”

  “A pretty dress. Faith always used to get dresses, but I got nothing.”

  “God could’ve been telling you not to pray for the dress, but pray for love. If your mother would’ve loved you, she would’ve automatically gotten you dresses. Sometimes we ask the wrong things in prayers, which can cause them to seem unanswered, but your prayers weren’t. God’s answer was simply ‘no’ or ‘wait.’ Hope, take time every morning when you wake up and pray to God. Pray for you to be able to break up the fallowed ground, forgive those who hurt you, and to grow closer to Him.”

  “And what if I can’t forgive?”


  She smiled. “Pray for God to give you the strength to do so. Hope, prayer is the cure for everything.”

  Just then Dante appeared from the side of the house and stood in the grass below us. He avoided eye contact with me as he spoke with Momma May. “I’m going home now, Pastor May.”

  I stood up, fuming. “But you just got here.”

  “I know.” He still avoided eye contact.

  My anger grew like a wildfire, threatening to destroy everything in my path. I stomped down the porch steps with my hands on my hips and faced Dante, who seemed uncomfortable to have me so close.

  “Oh, what’s wrong now, Dante?” My voice took on a sarcastic edge that made him back away. “You was just kissing me a few minutes ago and now you acting brand new. I got cooties now?”

  “We disrespected Pastor May’s house . . . and Jesus.”

  “You’re worse than my sister! I’m tired of all you Bible-hugging Jesus freaks! You know what, Dante, you couldn’t even have me if you tried. Or probably any woman for that matter! Why? Because you hide behind your Bible and use it as an excuse for why you shouldn’t do normal things, like kiss! But deep down, you’re just afraid of women. You ain’t been around one your whole life. Your momma just gave you off. You probably feel like other women will give up on you too, so you run scared like a little bit—”

  “Enough!” Momma May’s voice broke through the air, silencing me immediately. I turned around, looking at the glorious woman leaning over the porch railing, looking larger than life. I felt small beneath her. “Dante is a fine young man who will make his wife proud one day. Who are you to demean him? Belittle him for his own beliefs that you now share? Not once has that boy said anything bad about you. But you want to get upset over childish things? He’s right, y’all shouldn’t be kissing in my house! He got enough sense to feel like he disrespected me. But you? Child, you got a long way to go. I thought our conversation helped you some but you just went right back to that bitter, angry, mad-at-the-world attitude! Don’t take it out on Dante, take it out with Jesus. Only He can help you.”