Daddy was waiting by the fence this time, not the stoop. He had that look on his face like I’d been caught with my hand in a big, off-limits cookie jar, and since Ray was all sweet and brown sugar I couldn’t resist. I’d stolen him, and now he was mine. He was a part of my very being now, because he’d told me he loved me, and I’d believed it. Ray wasn’t no player. He didn’t have that way about him. Ray was pure light. A godly man, and from a strong, stable family. Oh, Lordy! How could Ray love a homeless girl? Was this just a hand-out mission to him? Some outreach community service project that he’d been forced into by his youth group?

“Mr. Jones. Nice to see you, sir.”

Ray handed the food bags to Daddy, and Daddy nodded back slowly. I could tell he was about to put on his conductor hat and pull rank, and that train was going to collide right into us any second. Bam.

He huffed. “Ray. Sweet Potato, it takes four minutes to come home. I expected you home around five after nine, with a minute to spare for tying a shoe, if need be. It’s fifteen after, and I was about to leave them youngins up there to come after you. And you know I can’t leave them up there more than a minute.”

“I’m sorry, really, Daddy. I didn’t mean for you to get all worried. We had to wait on the food, and Ray walked me home.”

He eyed Ray and me with this beady-eyed suspicion. It was like the world must know everything about me as if I could broadcast news across the features of my face. Now that the love was between us, Daddy’s eyes changed. And they didn’t have any light in them, only dark.

“Ray?” It came out like a question—an accusation, even.

Ray squared his shoulders, taking a battle stance. “Yes, sir.”

Daddy pointed up to the steps. “You want to come in for a spell?”

I thought that I’d fall out right there and start having my own heart palpitations. “No, Daddy. No!”

Tears formed behind my eyelids. It usually took a lot to make me cry, but this was a category five hurricane. Heavy rain predicted.

Ray said, “Maybe tomorrow night, Mr. Jones. Momma will be looking at the clock, just like you. She’s probably already pulled out the shotgun and started the walk on her own.”

Daddy nodded. “Okay, then, young man. Go on back, but I expect me and you to do some talking tomorrow night. Let your momma in on the plans I’ve established.”

Ray smiled at Daddy and at me. “I’m looking forward to it, sir. I’d like to meet the rest of your family.”

I couldn’t return his smile. Daddy was punishing me for loving him. Why? Why would Daddy be so vindictive? He didn’t operate like that.

In our room, Daddy set the bags down, and the kids jumped in on them like a pack of wolves, devouring the burgers almost without getting the wrappers off first. Daddy eyed me with a trepidatious look and muttered under his breath, “Roof.”

I didn’t want to follow him, but I had no choice. I heard the way his breathing was abnormal as he made it up them clackety stairs. He was laboring over this talk before it began, and in all honesty, we might as well have it now.

He went right back to the vent and leaned against it. I stood holding onto the iron railing, as far away from him as I could possibly get. Daddy wouldn’t physically hit me. I knew that. But sometimes words could be just as hurtful, and this was my way of bracing myself for the pain.

He laced his tired-to-the-bone fingers on top of his head, leaning forward, trying to gulf the space between us. “Sweet Potato, what have you up and done?”

I shrugged, not really knowing what I’d done. I was innocent. No crime committed here, or I didn’t think so. I didn’t do anything to make him ashamed of me—around here, or at Soul Food, or in front of anybody, ever. There were many roads I could’ve diverged down many times before. But I kept the straight and narrow, and I didn’t need or deserve this kinda talk from him. Especially after all the weight I carried for him.

His deep voice bellowed across the distance. “I never would have thought that it would have happened to you. And now here we are, and they are some good people. I tell you; they are good people. What have you up and done? No need to go up solid on me now. Talk to me, Sweet Potato, right now.”

He took two strides and was right there in front of me. I wasn’t afraid of him, but from the way he was looking at me I couldn’t help but feel intimidation.

“They are good people, Daddy. I agree.”

They truly were. Among all the folks we’d called acquaintances and friends, this family was like the top, prize-winning crop at the state fair—worthy of the ribbon and fame to go with it.

“I know that. I’ve done told you that. That’s why you can’t go messing this up.” His voice was soft, but his eyes were still all contorted.

“I’m not planning on messing nothing up, Daddy.”

But I knew full well about plans and how they could sometimes change, and this meant a new move down a dirt road out of sight might come quicker than I’d even thought possible.

“But you love him, Sweet Potato?” He searched me out and then sighed. “Did you tell him so?”

“No.”

He shrugged again and leaned up against the brick wall, hanging on the same iron bar as me. “Maybe you should keep it that way. It will be easier on the both of you when you go.”

He paused, looking up at the stars. “But he told you he loved you, didn’t he?”

I nodded, still not wanting to speak about all that out loud. It was like my secret was now going to be on the bestseller list. I Love Sweet Potato Pie—a recipe book for all the ways you could make sweet potatoes melt. And every single person in the universe would see me, immediately ask for an autographed copy, and ask me questions like, “How does it feel to love for the first time? Sugar and spice and everything nice?” Or something stupid like that.

“He’s Mr. and Mrs. Patterson’s boy. And he’s nineteen and you’re sixteen, and you are not even thinking about going out with him.” He nodded matter-of-factly.

“I’m almost eighteen, Daddy, remember? And I know who his momma and daddy are, and they are fine people. I don’t have to go out with him, if that’s what you think is best. But I do, well, you know … I do love him.”

Daddy started to cry. I hadn’t seen him cry in a long time. After years on the road, you accepted the life you walked in, and the crying stopped—unless it was for big-time things, like Momma getting swept away playing spoons. Since then, not much rain in our forecast. Was this one of those big-time things for Daddy?

“I wished that you had your momma to talk to about these things. Loving a boy means you and I have to talk about some particulars.”

Oh, no.

“No way, Daddy. I’m not having them buzzing bee talks with you. Don’t you go off worrying about me none. I have not once never even kissed no boy, and even though I love this one, I ain’t planning on making no honey in no beehives with him. No, siree.”

He laughed nervously. “Okay, calm down, child. I trust you. You are good people, Sweet Potato. I find it hard to stomach that you’d be after a guy, that’s all. You ain’t no little seedling no more, just a big old bushel of a plant.”

“Thanks, Daddy. I guess that’s supposed to be a compliment. At least you recognize I’m grown. Do me a favor. Don’t talk to him, Daddy. Please.”

He was already patting his stomach. I was sure he was wanting to get one of those burgers before Bean devoured them all.

“Already been done, Sweet Potato. I expect a young man on this roof with me tomorrow night at nine-oh-seven, approximate. It’ll take us about three minutes to walk in, pull down the step ladder, and climb on up here before me and him talk about a few things.”

“No! Now, I’ve got to draw the line right here.” I was totally beyond freaking out now.

He passed me by. “Come on. Don’t you worry your pretty, little head over nothing. I’m going to find out what his intentions are.”

“Oh, Lordy, no!”

“I almost forgot. Thanks to the Lions Club, you can get you a new pair of frames after you visit the bus a corner down.”

There was so much to be thankful for in this place.

I prayed as we made our way back to the kids. Lord, please don’t let Daddy scare off Ray. Please don’t let this place scare off Ray. We are just your people trying to do the best we can. Doesn’t it say I’m a worth-it person because I’m yours? Don’t I deserve to love? Can’t I love in a normal way? Lord, don’t let this place scare off Ray. Amen.

In the room, everybody was already settled in the bunks, waiting for the story of the evening. Daddy turned on the flashlight and pointed it at me. “Go ahead, Sweet Potato. Time to work the night shift.”

I closed my eyes and let a song come.

 

Lord, there’s a harvest, souls a-plenty

Lord, can’t you hear them crying out to you?

Falling at your feet, begging for your mercy

Lord, why don’t you come see about me? I am a part of your harvest, too.

Fill me up, Lord, and I’ll be a laborer for you.

 

Everybody clapped, and Daddy said that should be added to our prayers each night, and would I teach it to them? I told him not to worry. He’d soon hear it blaring from the speakers at Soul Food.

I told Bell the story about the red bird family that helped a whole flock of geese fly south for the winter. But as soon as the story left my mouth, I regretted it. Why had I given Daddy the idea to fly again?

I took the folded-up, notebook paper out of my back pocket and stuck it down in my clothes bag, to the very bottom. No thoughts of kissing trees, or I would never sleep. I rubbed my hand against my cheek. I could still feel the warmth of Ray there pressed beside me.