Practicing What You Preach

by Vanessa Davis Griggs

  When people cook that much food to make you feel welcomed and loved, you didn’t dare hurt their feelings by not at least tasting everything set before you, did you? And Melissa’s mother generally cooked three different kinds of cake and some kind of pie with vanilla ice cream on the side. That’s probably another reason why Melissa was the size she’d become. Her mother could straight up throw down in the kitchen!

  “Sister Anderson,” Reverend Mackey used to say, “now you know you went and put your foot in these collards greens.” Putting your foot in something when referring to cooking meant it was awesome, the best ever tasted.

  “And the potato salad and the macaroni and cheese and these black-eyed peas,” his wife would add to that putting-your-foot-in list. “You know, you really should think about opening up a restaurant.”

  “Sister Mackey, now don’t you be starting nothing,” Reverend Mackey would say to his wife as he piled more of everything onto his plate. “If she did have a restaurant, she would be rich. ’Cause I would be there practically every single day and get a carry-out on Saturday for my Sundays,” Reverend Mackey said.

  So Melissa had grown up accustomed to her family eating no earlier than two, two thirty on Sundays even when the pastor and his wife didn’t eat with them. It just didn’t feel right to her to eat before two. Not on Sundays. Marcus coming after two was perfect.

  Marcus wasn’t expecting Sasha to have cooked. And he certainly hadn’t expected her to want him to stay for dinner.

  Marcus scanned the laid-out dinner table. “This all looks great. But I can’t stay today,” he said.

  “Oh, Marcus, please. Aaliyah wants you to stay, don’t you, honey?” Sasha looked at Aaliyah.

  Aaliyah jumped up and down, her two long pigtails jumping with her. “Yes, Daddy. Please stay. Please, please, please.” She put her hands together in a prayer-like fashion and begged as she pulled on his arm.

  Sasha walked over to Marcus and started mocking her daughter. “Please,” Sasha said, grabbing his other arm. “Please.” She smiled warmly. “It would mean the world to Aaliyah, you know it would.”

  “But I’ve already made plans,” Marcus said.

  “Then call her and tell her you’ll be a little late,” Sasha said. “Dinner’s all done and the table is all set. How long would it take for you to sit and eat? Just tell her you’ll be a little later getting there.”

  Marcus looked at Sasha. He started to respond to that her reference. He didn’t like the way she had said it. After debating a few seconds with himself, he decided to just let it go.

  “Sasha, I appreciate you for asking but—”

  “Aaliyah, get your daddy to stay and eat with us. He might be able to say no to me, but he can’t say no to you,” Sasha said. “Look at that sad face.” Sasha looked over at Aaliyah who, right on cue, changed her face to look sad. “Are you going to break her little heart like that?”

  Marcus couldn’t help but laugh. Sasha was pulling out all the stops today. She had cooked, which was something she hardly ever did much of when they were married. She had cooked almost all of his favorite foods. She had the table set so it wasn’t like he couldn’t sit down right then, eat, and still take Melissa out. And now she was conspiring with his daughter to tug on his heart.

  Sasha could tell she was getting to him. “When is the last time we all sat down and ate dinner together as a family?”

  “A family?” Marcus said before he could stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

  “Yes, Marc. In spite of everything that has happened, we’re still a family. Aaliyah will forever connect me and you together. Now you two go and wash up. We’ll sit down and eat. And”—she smiled—“we’ll have a fun time just like we used to long ago. Today, ironically, the pastor’s sermon was the parable about the person who prepared all of this food and invited his friends over for supper. When they didn’t show up, he had them to go out into the streets, the highways and byways, and get people—the poor, the maimed, the cripple, the blind, and eventually, whoever would—to come and eat what had been prepared,” Sasha said.

  “So are you saying you invited some friends over to eat today and they didn’t show up? And now you’re getting anyone who is willing to come in and partake of the feast that was prepared for another?” Marcus asked jokingly.

  Sasha smiled. “If I say yes, will you feel sorry for me and decide to stay?”

  Marcus looked at her. “I suppose I would,” he said.

  “Well, the truth is, you’re that friend I have invited to a feast prepared especially for you. If you don’t partake, then I guess I’ll have to go out on the streets and find someone to eat it. Please don’t make me have to do that after spending so much time doing this for you and Aaliyah.”

  Sasha lowered her head, looked up and wiped her eyes as though there were tears. “Marcus, I just wanted to do something to thank you—that’s all.” She shrugged. “I know you have more important things to do, but I wanted to do something for you and Aaliyah. I’m always asking something of you. Today I wanted to do something for you.”

  Marcus looked at Sasha, then at Aaliyah. Sasha had gone to a lot of trouble to fix all of this. And if she went to church today, that meant she was either cooking last night or early this morning. “Come on, Aaliyah,” Marcus said. “Let’s go wash up.”

  Sasha began to smile. “Thank you,” she said. After Marcus and Aaliyah left the room, she looked toward heaven. “Thank you,” she said as she smiled. “Thank you.”

  Chapter 39

  Give us this day our daily bread.

  —Matthew 6:11

  On Sunday, Marcus called and said he would be a little late coming over. That was great. In fact, I told him not to worry about coming until the evening.

  Tiffany and Darius had stayed out on Saturday until almost three A.M. I was asleep on their couch when they came home. I was going to leave, but Tiffany insisted I stay where I was and go home in the morning. I could tell Darius had been drinking because he couldn’t walk straight or without assistance. Honestly, I didn’t feel like getting up and leaving, especially after I looked at my watch and saw how late it was. If I fully woke up, which is what I would have to do to drive home, I wouldn’t have been able to go back to sleep that easily. So I told them good night, adjusted the blanket I had covering me, then went right on back to sleep.

  When I woke up again, it was close to nine o’clock. Tiffany was not only up but cooking breakfast. It had been the smell of bacon and coffee that had awakened me. For a split second, I thought I was back home with my mother. That’s the way Sunday mornings began in our house. My mother would get up and start cooking. She would put on a pot of coffee, especially when my daddy was still alive. After he died in that car accident, she would still fix a pot of coffee even though she was the only one to drink it until my grandmother came to live with us.

  Grandmother was cool. Mama wouldn’t let me or Diddy-bo drink coffee, and we asked her enough times.

  “Coffee will make you black,” Mama would say.

  I thought she was serious. When Grandmother came to live with us, she saw me looking as she drank her coffee. “You want some?” Grandmother asked.

  I shook my head. “Mama says we can’t have any.”

  “Why not?”

  I repeated my mother’s words. “She says coffee will make me black.”

  Grandmother started laughing. “Is she still telling that?” Grandmother laughed even more. “That’s what I used to tell her when she’d beg for my coffee.” Grandmother went and got a cup and filled a fourth of that cup with coffee, then an equal amount of milk. She added three teaspoons of sugar and stirred before setting it before me. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Only black coffee makes you black. Brown coffee will keep you brown. Go on, drink up.”

  When I got older, I figured out that both my mother and my grandmother hadn’t told the truth about coffee. I still make my coffee brown, but that’s because I can’t stand to drink coffee black,
although the older I get, the less milk I use. And that’s how I started drinking coffee. I don’t make it much when I’m at home. During the week, I drink a cup each morning at work.

  So smelling coffee brewing at Tiffany’s house caused me to become a bit nostalgic. I got up and walked into the kitchen. Tiffany had the little ones in there with her. As she cooked, the girls sat patiently at the table. The baby was in his swing.

  “Well, good morning,” I said.

  “Good morning,” Tiffany said.

  I went over and kissed the top of Jada’s and Dana’s heads. “You girls sure are good and quiet.” I went over to touch Little D.’s hand as he played with things on the swing.

  “You and Darius were still asleep. I didn’t want the children to wake either of you.” Tiffany set plates down before the girls. “Breakfast is ready if you’d like to eat something now. I have coffee ready as well.”

  “It all smells so good! I had to check my bearings at first just to make sure I wasn’t a little girl at home with my mother,” I said, picking one of the plates up off the counter as I fixed myself breakfast. “Look at this. Homemade biscuits?” I took two.

  Tiffany nodded about the biscuits as she placed food on another plate. When she finished, I thought she was going to sit down and eat. Instead, she placed the plate along with juice and coffee on a tray. “I’m taking this up to Darius. I’ll be right back.”

  “Sure,” I said as I bowed my head and said grace. The biscuits were hot and flaky, just the way my mother used to make them from scratch.

  I knew I had to hurry if I planned on getting to church on time. That’s one thing about our church, we started on time. I hear that’s due to Pastor Landris. One of the original members was noted for saying that since the beginning, if no one was there when the service was supposed to begin, Pastor Landris would start it with just him and his wife. Now everybody runs to get to church on time because we don’t want to miss a thing.

  When Tiffany came back downstairs, she had the baby’s clothes in her hands. I finished eating while she got Little D. ready for church.

  “Are you not going to eat anything?” I asked.

  “Don’t have time,” Tiffany said. “I want to get to church on time, or at least as close to on time as I can. I’ve already combed the girls’ hair, so I’m almost there.”

  “Is Darius going to church?” I don’t know why I keep doing that: getting into her business. Old habits are hard to break. When I saw the look on her face, I really wished I could take back my question.

  “He’s tired,” she said.

  I was smart enough this time to keep my mouth closed, except to open it for the bacon I was finishing up.

  “Do you want me to help you get the girls ready?” It was the least I could do, considering how much Tiffany had to do by herself.

  “Thanks, but you need to get home so you can get ready for church.” She walked over to me, reached into her housecoat pocket, and handed me an envelope. “This is for keeping the children for us last night. I really, really appreciate it.” There was a glistening in her eyes.

  I shook my head. “You don’t owe me one thing,” I said. “I had so much fun with them. You keep that.”

  “I can’t do that. I’ve always been one to pay my way. If it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t have had anyone to keep the children last night. You don’t know how much you mean to me. I would never take advantage of your generosity. Never.”

  “I appreciate you as well,” I said, standing and giving her a hug. “You’re one of the few people I know for certain has a good and kind heart. I’m just glad I was available to help out. But you don’t owe me anything. Really. And I mean that.”

  She held out the envelope to me. “If you won’t let me pay you, then I’ll feel bad about ever asking you again. So if you won’t take it as payment, will you at least accept this as a blessing from me? Allow me to sow a seed in your life, so that I can be blessed. Don’t block my blessings by not allowing me to give you this. Can you do that for me?”

  When she put it that way, how could I not accept it? I know what it’s like to want to give to someone who doesn’t want to take it for whatever reason. Those are usually the people who are always giving to others and don’t know how to receive. But people who give must learn how to receive. I took the envelope, not because I wanted to be paid for what I had done, but because I really didn’t want to block her blessings. I also didn’t want her to have a reason not to reach out to me if and when she ever needed me again.

  “I pray a tenfold return to you,” I said, holding the envelope up in the air before I hugged her. “Be blessed.”

  When I got home, I had to hustle to get ready to get to church on time. Marcus and I had planned to go out to dinner later. But honestly, I was tired and wanted to take a nap. Who would think that taking care of three children could wear a person out? So when Marcus called and asked if we could go to dinner later than we’d originally planned, I cut him off from explaining why, and I suggested we cancel dinner altogether and him just come over later that night.

  This way I was able to eat a sandwich and take a long nap. Everything worked out perfectly.

  Chapter 40

  Do not err, my beloved brethren.

  —James 1:16

  Marcus, Sasha, and Aaliyah had a great dinner. After they finished, Aaliyah wanted to play a game of Go Fish, so both mother and father obliged. Sasha seemed more relaxed and played more than Marcus had ever seen her do. Whatever had happened had been recent, and was truly affecting her in what appeared today to be a positive way.

  Marcus looked at his watch. It was almost five o’clock. He jumped up. “Oh my, look at the time. I have got to get out of here,” he said.

  Sasha smiled and stood up. “Well, thank you for spending time with us today. I really enjoyed it.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.” He turned in the direction of Aaliyah. “Come on, Princess, and give Daddy a hug and a kiss good-bye,” he said.

  Aaliyah moped over toward him. “I don’t want you to go, Daddy. Can’t you stay a little while longer? Please.”

  “No, I have to go. We’ll spend time with each other again soon,” Marcus said.

  “But not with Mommy there. Not like we did today. I liked playing with both of you. It was fun.”

  “We’ll do this again,” Sasha said. “I promise. I rather enjoyed myself today as well.” Although Sasha was originally speaking to Aaliyah, she ended her last sentence looking softly at Marcus as she hunched her shoulders.

  It was different having Sasha being nice to him. Marcus was used to her attacking or criticizing him but not being so agreeable and almost adoring again. She was being almost the way she had been when he tutored her in high school. The way she was when he first realized she was actually interested in dating him. When she had thrown out hints but he hadn’t picked up on them. The first time they went on a date was when she asked him out. He couldn’t help but wonder what was going on with Sasha now or what she was truly up to.

  Marcus had gone home before going to see Melissa. When he arrived at Melissa’s around six, she answered the door dressed in a purple satin lounging dress.

  “I was a lot more tired than I knew,” she said as they sat down on the couch together. “Would you believe I’m just now getting up? Those children must have really worn me out,” Melissa said. “My hat goes off to Tiffany. I don’t know how she does it all. So, how was your day? How did everything go with Aaliyah?”

  “It was a good day,” Marcus said. “And as always, Aaliyah and I had a great time.” Marcus was debating whether or not he should tell her about Sasha and the dinner she’d prepared. It wasn’t as if it were that big a deal. But he didn’t want to start the habit of keeping or hiding anything from Melissa. Not since he was looking to ask her to marry him soon.

  He knew what half-truths and keeping things from the other person could do to a relationship. He had been the one on the receiving end of Sasha’s untruths, half-truths, s
ecrets, and attempts at constant manipulation. He had told Sasha how he felt about all of those things, although it didn’t make her stop doing them. So he knew he didn’t want to have even the appearance of doing anything like that with Melissa.

  Melissa was wonderful. She was open and honest. Marcus didn’t have to search deep to find her heart because she put it out there for all to see. That, in Marcus’s opinion, although liberating could be dangerous. He knew from personal experience that people weren’t always so careful when handling someone else’s heart.

  After Melissa got past the divorce drawback, she and Marcus had talked openly and honestly about what each of them was looking for in a marriage. Marcus told her he wasn’t looking for a trial-and-error relationship.

  “Trial and error?” Melissa had asked.

  “Yes. You know, let’s try it and see if it works out. If it works for me at the time or works out, then I’ll stick around. If it doesn’t, then I’m out of here. I’ll try you because I really don’t have that much to lose since it’s pretty easy to walk away. If you’re not the right one, I’ll admit my error and keep trying. No fault, no foul; trial and error.”

  “May I ask you a question?” Melissa asked.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Do you wish things had worked out for you and Sasha?” When Melissa noted his hesitation in answering her, she added, “Honestly.”

  “Honestly, I would have preferred that she and I had worked things out,” he said with a serious look on his face. “I’m going to tell you this: I hate that my family was torn apart. I loved Sasha. And I didn’t want Aaliyah to have to grow up shuttling back and forth from one house to the other. I didn’t and still don’t want Aaliyah in the middle of whatever Sasha and I may be working out at the time.”