This time there was no bag to carry. Our hands found each other as soon as he closed the door behind us. Ray draped his arm around my waist, bringing me up close to him. My heart quickened with each second. This was a dream, but my eyes were wide open.

“Did you forget something?” He stared down at me, and I swore it wasn’t just the sun that could shine in his eyes, but the moon, too.

“You put your arm around me.” I couldn’t help but feel the wonder in everything.

“Is that okay? I know we’ve worked all day. I don’t stink or anything, do I?” He sniffed his underarms.

I closed my eyes. No. His cologne was still as present as ever. “Can I tell you something you’ll just have to believe?”

He put his arm back around me, and we started walking again, faster than I would have liked. He wouldn’t want Daddy out on the front stoop, pacing as he waited.

“I will tell you this now, Sweet Potato, and this is the truth: I believe every word that comes from you, because I have this feeling you don’t lie. It’s almost like you can’t lie. You are like a fresh new way of looking at the world, and I love it.”

“I’ve never had a boyfriend. Not a crush. Not a like. Not a … a … boy, period.”

Ray squinted. “I said I would believe anything you say, but that one is hard to take in. No one?”

He squeezed me, and I melted right into his side.

“Just you.” My Ray.

We reached the chain-link fence, and his arm dropped. “I’ll make you proud of me, Sweet Potato. And I promise you I’ll always do what is right by you. I love you.”

Daddy wasn’t at the gate, but he was standing under the bug light right there at the entrance, waiting. I would have to wait for another night to confess my feelings to Ray.

Daddy said, “Hey, how was work? You are looking right rested up, Sweet Potato.”

He didn’t know that being at Soul Food was the easiest thing I’d ever had to do in my life.

“Good evening, sir.”

Ray reached out to shake Daddy’s hand, and I could tell Daddy wasn’t convinced yet, like a big, old question mark at the end of the million-dollar question: Are you going to hurt my daughter or not? Because I’ve got something for you, if you are.

“Be nice, Daddy.”

Please, Lord. Let Daddy be the man that I know he is. Don’t disappoint me now, Daddy. Don’t run now, Ray. Have faith, Sweet Potato. There. I’d made all the prayers that needed to be made.

I wished I would have asked Ray if he’d ever set foot in The Home before. I figured that he hadn’t. Most people hadn’t. Why would they?

On the grand tour, we passed the kitchen and the first-floor rooms, which were for the “ins and outs.” Our rooms were on the second floor, along with most of the other families with children. We were what they called the “hopeful transitionals,” the ones they could try to remediate—like we were some school assignment or sustainable housing project.

We didn’t speak during the jaunt through The Home. I couldn’t look at him, either. I couldn’t imagine the thoughts running through his mind. I thought I’d spoken all the prayers I needed to make, but I forgot the most important one. Don’t let Ray pity me after this, Lord—and again, for good measure, don’t let him run.

We reached our door, and my heart flailed around in my chest like a ping-pong ball knocking against paddles. A plain, white door, no violet lettering, no golden words of wisdom. Just a number on it, like at one of those roadside motels—a crooked, scratched, brass number seven, that was us.

They were in their bunks when I came in. Daddy had already conversed with them about me having a boy over. I was sure the whole lot of them was going to dive right into this mess with all they had, like U.S. Olympic swimmers. Bell was the first to jump off her bunk. She eyed Ray curiously. He smiled at her, she smiled back, and I knew it was love at first sight for her, too. She held out her hand like I’d guessed she’d seen in some old movie.

She curtsied. “I’m Bell Pepper Jones. Nice to meet you.”

He turned to me inquisitively at the sound of her voice. People did that. It was the same with his voice. That sing-song quality was rare.

“Ray Patterson. Charmed, my dear.” He bowed low to her, and she giggled.

Maize came up to him—couldn’t stand the thought of him being so big and tall, I was sure. “I’m Sweet Potato’s brother.”

I sighed. “It’s okay, Maize. He won’t laugh. Ray, this is Maize.”

Ray didn’t laugh, only kept that same smile on his face. “Hey, Maize. Ray.”

Maize nodded and plopped back down on the bottom bunk. Bean was already asleep. I laughed softly. “What did you do to that one?”

Maize gave his short, little laugh in return. “Daddy worn him out all day on the court. He was asleep by eight. I think we’ve figured out the fix for Bean.”

“Maybe he don’t need any hyper pills, after all. He might need some ball playing and good ol’ exercise. Let’s make him a pro, Maize. You think?”

Daddy huffed. “Sports ain’t the answer. I’ve been telling Maize about this since he’s been obsessed with the whole football fascination.”

Ray’s interest was now piqued. “You play football?”

Maize shot up from the bunk. “Want to. I’m going to be a freshman. I figure I’ll try out for the JV or something.”

“You going to The Dream, right?” Ray looked at me, and I nodded. “I don’t see your uniforms hanging.” No closets here. He had already quickly done an inspection of our room and assessed the lone clothes bag beside the bunks.

I gawked. “Uniforms? Daddy, you ain’t said one thing about uniforms. School’s on Monday!”

Why did we always end up with last-minute disasters? The money we’d made this week was already spent.

Daddy said, “Calm down, child. Calm down. I had to wait for the check anyway, and I didn’t want you to go about dreading the school, knowing about a uniform. We’ll go tomorrow, then.”

He picked his head up, motioning to Ray. Come on now, and let’s go talk.

I wasn’t ready for that yet. I’d postpone it if I could. “I love the uniform idea. Nobody will know.” I couldn’t sit down on the bunk, because there wasn’t a place to offer Ray to sit. I couldn’t even offer him something to drink. That was the way you were supposed to invite people into your home, judging by the way Mrs. Sunshine had treated me this morning.

Ray frowned. “Know what?”

I nudged my bag with my foot. “That’s me in the bag. And that’s Maize, and Bell, and Bean. Uniforms are safe. We ain’t never once been to a school that was safe for us, so we would always stand out like a sore thumb. Recycling the same clothes gets noticed, this day and age.”

Bell giggled when Daddy stepped between us. “That’s enough in here. Sweet Potato, go on to bed. You got early-morning work ahead of you. One more day of it before the school week begins.”

Ray said, “No, Mr. Jones. We wouldn’t hear of working on the Lord’s day. We are closed on Sunday. It’s church and eating, usually with the church, and more church after that. Just the way I like a day to go.”

It was like I’d been slapped. “I won’t see …”

You. I let it drop when Daddy gave me the hush-up eye, and I realized he was right. I was probably about to sound a little desperate.

Daddy was already escorting Ray out the door. Ray turned to me and winked, not a care in the world. Not even a fear about walking up those tiny, creaking steps to his doom.

“I’ll be here to pick you up at nine, Sweet Potato. Don’t worry about what is in that bag. We will stop by Momma’s before church service, if you need to.”

Bell squealed, waking Bean up. Little moaning noises escaped from him. “Can I come? Can I go?”

The last words I heard from Ray were, “Sure. All of you are welcome.”

And I fell to my knees when the door slammed. “I’m thankful to have him, God. I’m welcoming them rays of light you are shining down on us. Thank you, Jesus.”

I broke into our newly added prayer song, and the kids sang right along with me—even tired-out Bean, with a yawn on his lips.