He would discuss the story with Tracie later at Heavenly Delight, the first day at his new job. As he stood up to head off to bed, he said a little prayer for his good fortune: wonderful new friends, a new job, and now an opportunity to help the family that had done so much for him. For the first time in a very long time, Ross felt truly blessed.
6
Tracie used the spatula in his hand to flip over five hamburgers cooking on a greasy, sizzling grill. But his smile and deeply dimpled cheeks revealed that he had something more important on his mind than carrying out the routine business at Heavenly Delight. Inside, he rehashed memories of yesterday, of the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him, of Ross’s offer to use his professional resources to help Tracie get published.
Last night had been like most others, but he couldn’t surrender to a peaceful sleep when all he could think about was Ross in his apartment downstairs, reading Tracie’s manuscript. A large part of him was brimming with joy, because he had a lot invested in One People, One Nation, One Peace. Then he considered another thought, that Ross may decide Tracie’s story needed major revisions before offering it to publishers or, even worse, that the story was so poorly written that no amount of revisions could repair it.
“Working hard, Tracie?”
At the sound of Ross’s voice, Tracie was brought back to the present, and he began coughing on misty white smoke that rose from the burning hamburgers on the grill. He quickly clicked the overhead exhaust fan to its highest speed to air out the kitchen.
Dressed in his new work uniform, Ross grabbed Tracie’s spatula and began lifting up the burnt hamburgers, which he dropped into a nearby waste container.
“Ross, I didn’t even smell the hamburgers burnin’. I just can’t stop thinkin’ about what you told me yesterday. I swear I’m losin’ my mind.”
But Tracie was still smiling as he crossed his arms defensively. “Now I think there’s somethin’ you need to tell me. It’s all right to tell me how you really feel. I’m not afraid of the truth. What do you think of my story?”
Ross ended a long yawn with a wide grin in response to Tracie’s words. “Excuse me. I didn’t sleep much last night.” As he opened the door of a tall steel freezer next to the grill, pulling out new hamburgers for Tracie to cook, he said, “It was a lot of fun reading about Travis White, who I believe has a lot in common with his creator. I was most impressed with your fast-paced beginning. I can’t help but wonder where you learned how to write so well. I would have never guessed a new writer to have so much creative control over his first story.”
As the air in the kitchen became clear of the faint smoke, Tracie’s eyes gleamed as the reality of Ross’s wonderful words sank in. And the spatula in his hand felt unusually light as he flipped over the new burgers that Ross had laid out on the grill. “I learned how to write in high school. I participated in a short-term writin’ class that was taught by my favorite English teacher, Mr. Bailey.”
“You learned a lot,” Ross said with a nod. And then he became serious. “I’m extremely tired, Tracie, so tired that when you came to collect me for work this morning, I thought I would cry. So tired that I have to go outside every half-hour to catch a breath of fresh air to keep myself from falling asleep on my first day of work. But it was all worth it—staying up all last night to read your story, to discover your true talent and share a story that you obviously spent long, painstaking hours working on each day.”
Ross rubbed his hands against his tired red eyes. “In the business of selling stories, there are never any guarantees. But after having read One People, One Nation, One Peace, I promise that I am going to find a publisher for your brilliant story.”
Tracie sighed. “Thanks, Ross.”
“No thanks are necessary. I live just to see Maggie’s and your smiling dimples when I make you happy.” Ross gave a gentle pinch to Tracie’s cheeks, and the two men roared in laughter, immediately catching the attention of a long line of impatient lunchtime customers.
“We’ll continue this discussion later,” Ross said, as he spotted Nick walking fast in their direction.
“After work?” Tracie asked.
But before Ross could reply, Nick stepped between the two of them and glared. “Get to work!”
At 7:00 p.m., Ross and Tracie arrived at Tracie and Maggie’s apartment, making fast steps in the direction of the kitchen, as if there were fires in their stomachs that could only be put out with a delicious homemade dinner.
“I’ll cook their food, but I won’t eat it,” Tracie had confessed to Ross in an earlier chat about Heavenly Delight. “After bein’ around the smell of it all day—every day—I just can’t stomach it. I try to hold out until I get home to have real food. Or I bring leftovers to eat for lunch.”
Maggie, who had already been picked up for Monday night service by one of the members of her church, left behind two foil-wrapped plates of food on the stove. Ross and Tracie wasted no time in sitting down across from each other at the table, wolfing down their dinner of rice, black-eyed peas, and stewed chicken.
“May I ask you a personal question?”
“Shoot, Ross.”
“Yesterday, I was watching from my living room window as you arrived home from work. I had been waiting to speak to you, to offer my assistance in your mission to get published. I saw you talking to some young woman.” Ross paused, blushing as if he did not know how to bring focus to his preliminary words.
“Tracie, are you romantically involved with that woman?”
“Kria?” Tracie’s response, which began as a yell, was muffled inside his chewing mouth. After swallowing, he managed to speak. “No way! Kria’s an ex-girlfriend from my very distant past. Right now, the only woman in my life is Nana. Gettin’ involved in any other kind of relationship would only cloud my vision for a successful future.”
Ross considered a striking similarity between Tracie and himself. Like Tracie, he had never found time for dating while putting in long hours at the agency, working hard to ensure his beginning success. But there was a sharp contrast in the comparison, as Ross acknowledged that it was the pain of family loss that had propelled him to the top. After a while, his efforts paid off and he could afford to take time for some fun and leisure. He even found time to spend with some of the beautiful women who had waited a long time for him to open up and come out of his reclusive shell. But in Tracie’s case, Ross guessed that a reason other than family loss was behind the younger man’s avoidance of relationships. In fact, Tracie seemed not to want to talk about the subject at all, and Ross found that he could not pry anything more from him.
Ross laughed lightly. “It almost sounds like you’re afraid to have a relationship.”
“I can’t deny that. One important thing I’ve determined from stories told to me: Relationships have prevented success in my family for a long time. Even with Nana, who once had dreams of becomin’ a schoolteacher. Did she tell you that?”
“No, she didn’t. How interesting.”
“She was a very smart girl, with high hopes of startin’ a school like her role model, Mary McLeod Bethune. But Nana got pregnant at an early age, and her dreams were quickly set aside.”
“Yes, she has already told me a bit about her past. Please, tell me more. I want to know about the father of her baby.”
“His name was Michael Calloway...”
“As in, Jessie and Ruby Calloway?” Ross interrupted with a frown.
“Yeah, Michael was the nephew of Jessie and Ruby. Each summer, Jessie’s brother sent his oldest son, Michael, from Virginia to a little town in Florida, where he helped manage Jessie and Ruby’s farm. Placed in the same Sunday school class when they were both eight, Michael and Nana became fast friends. In the followin’ summers, a routine was set: Nana stopped hangin’ with her other friends and made time to spend with Michael on the Calloways’ farm. They rode horses, danced to beautiful music, and did lots of other fun things together. When their close friendship turned int
o love, Michael and Nana discussed plans of marriage. But everything changed once Michael got Nana pregnant. He left for Virginia at summer’s end and never again visited Jessie and Ruby in Florida.”
“Which explains why the white family was so hospitable to Nana and her baby,” Ross observed. “They were family.”
“Yeah, the truth of your statement at least applies to my Mama.”
“Who was your mother?” Ross asked.
Picking up his empty dishes, Tracie stood and walked over to the sink, where he remained in silence for almost five minutes. On his return to the table, he wiped a wet dishrag across the space where he had eaten.
“Did I offend you?” Ross asked. Only a short while ago, Tracie had seemed so comfortable in discussing his family history that Ross could not figure out what he’d said wrong. What had caused Tracie’s mysterious new silence?
Up until that night with Ross, he had not really thought about his parents since his Nana’s explanation of their long absences. Now, dropping back down into his seat, Tracie remembered having a dream at the curious age of ten about his Daddy murdering his Mama. He recalled running to her bedroom and crying as he described his violent nightmare.
“Bless your little heart, God must want you to know ’bout your parents’ deaths,” Maggie had said, sniffling. As always, Tracie’s sorrow became her own sorrow. “Just like He wanted Peter to know Jesus would be crucified the next day. But after our talk tonight, you got to promise never to bring up Michelle’s and Dave’s names again, hear? Don’t want what happened to them to stop you from reachin’ to be somebody special.”
When Tracie nodded, his Nana wrapped her arms around his quivering body and, very cautiously, told the sad tale of his parents. Now, nine years later, he would reveal the story to Ross.
“My parents were named Michelle Turner and David Walker. They met their freshman year at a high school in Jacksonville, Florida. Nana said they were both good-lookin’ kids with big dreams. David was an A-student, and was offered a full scholarship to attend a local college, and sweet, innocent Michelle was extremely devoted to church, and decided to study theology. They lived in the same housin’ project, where they spent lots of time together, doin’ all the things young lovers do. But at the beginnin’ of their senior year—to Nana’s horror—my Mama got pregnant, and my Daddy and her made rash decisions. David quit school and started sellin’ drugs for money; and he started out makin’ lots of it. He spoiled my Mama with all kinds of fine things for her and their expected baby. Nana said he also bought a new Cadillac and moved them into an apartment on the good side of town.”
Tracie paused to sigh, as if the story that he had begun was causing intense physical fatigue. “Nana said she begged my Mama to leave my Daddy soon as he started sellin’ drugs, but the Devil used him to fool her and lead her away from God with the fancy things he bought. Not only did my Mama stop goin’ to church, she even quit school only two months away from graduatin’ to join my Daddy in his illegal business. Together, they met violent deaths while dinin’ at a small pizza shop across the street from where Nana lived in Jacksonville. A rival drug dealer walked up to their table and let go multiple blasts of his double-barreled shotgun. My Daddy died on the spot. My Mama only lived long enough to deliver me in the emergency room.”
An expression of shock washed across Ross’s face. “I never would have guessed Nana had endured such tragedy—and being all alone.”
“Yeah, but she wasn’t alone for long. Uncle Lester, Nana’s younger brother, wrote for her to come to Hartford and watch after him in his last days strugglin’ with cancer. She made the move, but not just for Uncle Lester. I believe she was desperate to get away from Florida after buryin’ my Mama, who she loved like crazy.”
“I am absolutely shocked, Tracie. I find it incomprehensible that someone as sweet as Nana could be dealt such a hand of bad cards in life.”
“And no one’s to blame but my Mama,” Tracie returned with an attitude of such unexpected new anger that Ross sat back, pushing his empty plate back on the table.
“What makes you say a thing like that?” he asked.
“My Mama was Nana’s future. How could she not care more about strugglin’ to make Nana a rich, happy woman than runnin’ around in the streets after some dude—even if he was my Daddy? How could she get so involved at a time when young people should be devoted to dreamin’ big and makin’ plans to see them come true?” Tracie shook his head, as if he had thought hard about the questions that he presented to Ross, who didn’t know enough about Tracie’s family history to offer any answers.
“I could be wrong, but it sounds like your mother had a tough life from the beginning. Growing up in a housing project with little money to eat and live in comfort. Hoping the lights weren’t turned off so that she could do her homework. Wondering if there would be hot water in the apartment tomorrow for her and Nana to bathe. Again, I could be wrong, but I think meeting your father might have been a godsend for her. An escape into friendship and love for two people who had never known anything besides poverty and who, in all probability, shared dreams of getting out together.”
Tracie’s laugh had an unexpected sinister quality. “Yeah, I think you’re wrong. Because you don’t know the projects like I do. I was born and raised here. I know what it’s like to always have nothin’. And to find yourself hangin’ in the streets to connect with someone—anyone—who shares your pain of bein’ poor.”
He stood and walked over to point out the window. “Man, it’s crazy out there. At first, it’s like some kind of amusement park, where people stay out all night and are happy and handle their business. But it’s not really what it looks like—I learned that as a teenager. Somewhere below the exterior of happiness is a very dangerous world. Thank God, I missed gettin’ lost in that world.
“Nana was a strong force in settin’ me back on the right path. Through a philosophical lens starin’ back on my past, I see her clutchin’ my shirt collars and yellin’, ‘Boy, what you done got into? You out here in the streets with these folks all around you. They mean to kill you, Tracie. But I came to stop that.’ Next, I see Nana usin’ all her might to pull me, still clutchin’ my shirt collars, back home. She saved my life, Ross.”
Tracie returned to his seat at the table. “She tried like everything to save my Mama too. But everyone don’t listen to smart words of wisdom. Mama must’ve been out of control and selfish, and it caused her early death. Now I have the rewardin’ opportunity to love, cherish, appreciate... and do all the good things that make Nana happy. And to add to all these, I’m goin’ make her rich.”
“You mentioned that before. Do you really believe Nana wants riches?”
Leaning forward, a look of intense seriousness on his face, Tracie replied, “Riches is what she deserves, after survivin’ a life of Hell, and I won’t let anything stand in my way, not even a relationship with the most beautiful woman in the world. I won’t be another statistic in a long family line of broken dreams.”
Ross let out a light laugh to ease the tension in the kitchen. “Now I understand better. So let’s move on to a different subject. I’m eager to discuss One People, One Nation, One Peace. It’s a good story, but the cosmetics of the manuscript need major attention.”
“What are you talkin’ about?”
Ross held up his hands against Tracie’s wall of defense. “I realize our previous conversation got you worked up, but I want you to calm down and listen to me. I’m here to help you get published, remember?”
Tracie inhaled deeply and let go of all his tension in one long, healing breath of air. “I’m sorry, Ross. I’m just so ambitious. I think I’ll die if I don’t succeed as a writer.”
“Let’s not entertain negative thoughts. You’re going to succeed, but it takes hard work. And I believe that is all right with you.”
Tracie smiled. “Yeah, that’s all right with me. But I’m very confused. What’s in my way of gettin’ published?”
“When
I speak of cosmetics, I am referring to the appearance of the manuscript. Thanks to your dark cursive handwriting, I was able to read all the way through your story with clear comprehension of plot, character development, and dialogue. In short, I saw the big picture. But no editor will even attempt reading a handwritten manuscript.”
Tracie was impressed at how professionally Ross spoke. It was as if he was one of Ross’s best-selling clients and they were sitting inside some fancy restaurant discussing Tracie’s next project. “So you’re sayin’ my manuscript is gettin’ rejected because it’s not typed?”
Ross nodded.
“Simple as that?”
Ross nodded again. “I have an idea that could only benefit your aspiring career, but it would require the assistance of Maggie and the money she inherited from the Calloways. On the day I told you about my previous life as an agent, you said that Nana had only used a portion of her inheritance to pay off my medical expenses. I am hopeful there could be enough money remaining to support another important cause: for you to resign from Heavenly Delight and begin working on your story full-time.”
Tracie examined Ross’s face for the slightest indication that he might be teasing, but he realized that his friend was serious. “What kind of idea is that? Me askin’ for Nana’s inheritance money, quittin’ my job, and then—on top of all that craziness—askin’ her to support both of us with her measly weekly paycheck? How long you think we could make it like that?”
“This may sound far-fetched at first, but think carefully. Although you will not be contributing any income, some of my new earnings—though meager—will go toward repayment of what Maggie loaned to me from the inheritance money. In addition, I’m very capable of selling your story, which I predict will come to pass shortly—given the extra time you will have to work on revisions by saying goodbye to Heavenly Delight.”
“I’m not sayin’ goodbye to Heavenly Delight. Understand that. Not as long as I have my health and strength and can help Nana pay the bills. We’ll have to think up another way to complete the story.”
A CHANGE OF HEART: Book 1 of the Hartford Series Page 10
