Ross reached across the table to pat his friend’s hand. “Okay, keep your job. But it is going to slow down progress toward your dream. And you are so close... I can make that assumption with near certainty now that I have read your brilliant story.”
“I’m not givin’ up my job!”
Ross smiled. “All right, I surrender.”
But then Ross quickly shifted to a new thought.
The Soul Food Kitchen chain had its ambitious beginning twenty-five years ago. Owned by a woman commonly known as “Big Mable,” one of the country’s many successful black entrepreneurs, the restaurant had expanded its roots from a small town in Georgia to Hartford, Connecticut. When the twentieth restaurant opened, inside the popular civic center downtown, its very first applicant was Maggie. She was immediately hired as a cook and had been there ever since.
The restaurant had a warm, homey atmosphere, set off by walls covered with framed photographs of smiling satisfied customers hugging Big Mable and other members of the restaurant staff. It was here that Ross found Maggie one lazy, peaceful Saturday. On a day free from the restaurant’s normal hectic crowd of customers, Maggie was walking from table to table, chatting with a few of her favorite customers. Interrupted by a light tap on her shoulder, she turned around to see Ross and flung her little arms around him in an excited embrace.
Ross drew in the sweet rosy fragrance of her perfume, which drowned out the odors of cooking food. Her hair was fixed tightly back in a bun. She wore a long pale blue dress and a red apron that advertised the restaurant’s name in large white letters.
“Hey, Ross. What brought you by, sugar?”
Ross considered how difficult it had been to find the right time to speak to her privately because of their conflicting work schedules. If Tracie and he had to be at Heavenly Delight in the morning, then Maggie’s workday began in the afternoon. If Maggie had a day off from work, Ross might have a regular schedule and Tracie would be working only half a day. At last, Ross had a day off, but Tracie had to work until closing later that night.
Pulling back from their embrace, he wasted no time at getting into the serious issue that he had come to discuss with Maggie. “I’m having a bit of trouble with Tracie,” he said.
Maggie responded with a concerned nod and took an early lunch break, ordering cheeseburger meals for Ross and herself. They settled down in a corner booth where they could talk in private.
“What’s the matter with Tracie?”
“Nothing life-threatening.” Ross gave her a gentle smile to ease Maggie’s concern. “I finally had the honor of reading his story. I am honestly amazed that since our past conversation, I have found Tracie to be the kind of talented writer whose work should be in print and on bookstore shelves. However, I am facing a difficult situation. And I think you should know what has happened.”
Ross sighed, as he silently considered the best way he should reach out to her with his agenda for helping Tracie, who had outright rejected it. He did not know about her personal finances, nor did he know if she was truly dependent on the income that Tracie contributed to their household. He guessed that Tracie’s own conscience was preventing him from giving up his job to pursue his life’s dream. However, Ross wanted to know the actual truth, and he expected Maggie would give him nothing less.
“Tracie needs to resign from Heavenly Delight so he can spend the time it will take to successfully complete work on his manuscript.” Ross rushed to hold up his hands defensively, as if Maggie might, in angry opposition, reach across the table and slap his cheek. “Please, let me explain. Of the many truths I know about the writing profession, one in particular is that writers deliver their creative best when they have the luxury of working on a full-time schedule.”
“You talk this over with Tracie?”
“He and I spoke one night last month while you were at church. But Tracie refused my idea. He pressed the point that it is necessary for him to work to help out with your household expenses. I... didn’t realize you were facing such hardship.”
Maggie let out a slight chuckle. “Suppose you want to know if Tracie’s tellin’ you what’s right. Nah, he done let the Devil use him in tellin’ a baldface lie. When Tracie was very young, I was on welfare so I could always be home for him. I didn’t start workin’ for Big Mable ’til he reached high school. That was six years ago. But Tracie wanted a job too. ‘To help out with the house bills,’ he said. But I knew the truth. He was fightin’ hard to stay out of trouble, out of the streets, and I thought a job was a good idea. So when I found out Big Mable had just opened another new restaurant, and that some of the money would go to the cause of betterin’ our poor community, I was quick to offer Tracie’s name for work. He been at that restaurant, Heavenly Delight, since he was fifteen.”
Maggie stopped talking at the approach of a familiar heavyset waitress with a warm smile. She silently passed out Ross’s and Maggie’s meals and then left as quietly as she had arrived.
Maggie did not miss a beat from where she had left off speaking. “But as for what you really want to know, I pay my own bills. It ain’t like I got many. I owe for my rent, lights, and groceries—and heatin’ is free. I don’t have a car; I take the bus when Tracie ain’t able to drive me ’round. All Tracie ever really do with his money is buy me pretty clothes, flowers every now and then, and other nice things.”
Ross chewed slowly on a bite of his sandwich as he processed Maggie’s words. “Thank you. You told me everything that I have already guessed. However, I’m anxious to share with you something else that Tracie and I discussed, something that disturbs me. It has to do with the heartbreakingly painful hurdles you endured just to survive for Tracie and you.”
“Now don’t you be worryin’ ’bout that.” Maggie waved aside Ross’s sympathetic words. “I had bad days, but God gave me the greatest motivation to keep keepin’ on. I always had Tracie.”
“That’s a wonderful view you have. But Tracie sees a different view of your past. He seems to be possessed with powerful convictions that he can’t seem to get over, beliefs that keep him from moving forward with his own young life.”
“What you talkin’ ’bout?” Maggie pushed back her plate, too concerned about Tracie to begin eating any of her cheeseburger. Ross had barely touched his own food after that first bite.
“Have you ever wondered why Tracie doesn’t date?”
“Ross, he really into his writin’. Between that and workin’, when would he have time to spend on some girl?”
“But those are not Tracie’s reasons why. Did you know he carries a tremendous fear that a woman, a mere relationship, could somehow destroy his chances of attaining his dream? Like what happened to you and Michelle. He believes your mishap with Michael destroyed your opportunity of becoming a schoolteacher, and that the pursuit of love proved to be just as much a mishap in the short life of your daughter.”
He reached across the table and took hold of Maggie’s trembling hands. “Which brings me to the issue that disturbs me most from my discussion with Tracie. I witnessed a searing hatred that he carries inside against your daughter. He believes that it was her God-given responsibility to work hard at making up for your sad past with future happiness and riches. He believes that her unfulfilled responsibility was passed on to him, as if he now owes you.”
“I didn’t know that...” Maggie’s voice trailed off, as she managed a sad, thoughtful smile. “If that’s how Tracie feels, it’s all my fault. While raisin’ him, I was careful not to talk much ’bout Michelle ’cause I didn’t want him endin’ up repeatin’ even one of her foolish mistakes. But there’s somethin’ real important he don’t know ’bout her, and we goin’ talk just as soon as we both get home from work tonight.”
Ross nodded but remained silent to allow Maggie enough time to digest all that he had laid out before her thus far. He resumed eating, and Maggie also pulled her plate back in front of her, taking several nibbles off her sandwich. She chewed mechanically, still deep in th
ought.
“Is that all you came to say, Ross?”
“No, there is one last thing. If we are successful at convincing Tracie to resign from Heavenly Delight, our next step will be to purchase the necessary tools he should have to comfortably complete work on his manuscript. He should have a desk, a computer, a printer, lots of paper, and other items that I am probably forgetting to include at this particular moment. I will be happy to invest as much money as I can afford to cover the expense, but I am here to ask for your help. Tracie told me that part of your inheritance was used to support my medical expenses, which I am eternally grateful for and have plans to fully pay back.”
Maggie laughed heartily. “Of course I’ll help Tracie. He my grandson.” And then she glanced at a clock on the wall across the room. It was nearing the end of her half-hour lunchtime.
“Ross, you really care about him, don’t you?”
“I’ve come to love Tracie like a brother. Is it not a big brother’s role to use his life mistakes as an example for the one who’s younger? That’s all I’m doing. I have been where Tracie is now. I remember the hunger for success very well. Drawing deep inside myself, learning not to care about anything or anyone else. It was a cold world to exist in. Soon I became numb to all human feeling, and I forgot the important things that really mattered. I guess I just don’t want Tracie to end up like me, having to relearn all that should really matter.”
Maggie nodded slowly. “Tonight, I’ll try to get him to accept the important things I have to say. Meanwhile, all we can really do is pray hard he makes the right choices in life. The rest is left up to only him and God.”
On the bus ride home, Maggie prayed silently about the difficult task at hand. She agreed with Ross’s intentions, believed that what he had said was true. But explaining that to Tracie and convincing him to quit Heavenly Delight would be nearly as difficult as weaning a stubborn toddler off his pacifier.
Maggie arrived home before Tracie. She hung her coat in the living room closet and went straight to the kitchen, where she settled into her comfortable nightly routine of preparing dinner. No matter how tired she was after having already put in long hours at the restaurant, she always had enough strength to cook for Tracie. She knew he really appreciated it. The menu tonight would consist of Southern-style fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, and string beans with bacon, melting with butter—some of Tracie’s favorites. She wanted to make the occasion extra special to counter the argument that would undoubtedly arise when she began discussing her concerns for his future as a writer.
Tracie showed up a little past midnight. He walked into his Nana’s tidy bedroom, where she had already changed into a warm white gown. Sitting back against the headboard of the bed, she was reading her Bible.
He managed a tired smile, holding out a fresh bouquet of lilies of the valley. “These are for you, Nana.”
Maggie reached out to take the flowers. “Honey, you ain’t have to go and do somethin’ special like that. But thank you. These my favorites.”
Tracie pecked a dimple on his Nana’s cheek. “You deserve it, Nana. And so much more...” He let his words fade into silence. It was far from the first time he had come close to revealing his true feelings. Of his deep need to repay her for sticking with him and not giving him up after his mother died. Of how angry he became at his mother for dying and leaving his Nana such a tremendous responsibility.
“Your food’s on the stove,” Maggie said.
Tracie circled his hand against his stomach. “I’m about to go take care of that right now.”
Maggie watched as he turned and headed for the door, after quickly laying down the flowers at her side. “We got to talk.”
Tracie immediately returned to her bedside. “What’s wrong?” When she did not respond for a long minute, he dropped down onto the bed and gave two gentle pats to the empty space beside him, where his Nana slowly slid over to sit.
She stood and sat down, and then she stood and sat down again, trying for comfort. “Ross dropped by the restaurant to see me today.”
“Lucky him. He had the day off from work.”
“He came to talk ’bout your writin’.”
Now Tracie could no longer remain seated. Not when he guessed what his Nana had called him back to talk about. He walked over to stare out the small window. He focused on the black star-speckled sky glowing with full white moonlight that outlined other houses and apartment buildings in the distance.
“Told you everything, didn’t he?” he asked with a slight tremor in his voice.
“Yes, he did. But don’t be mad at Ross. He believes you got the good talent to see your dream come true. You just goin’ have to stop workin’ to do it is all.”
Tracie turned around. “That’s all? I was just promoted to assistant manager. And what about all the nice things I’m able to buy you with the money I make, all the things my Mama never gave you.”
“Boy, shut your mouth,” Maggie snapped, getting to her feet and going over to Tracie as fast as she could manage it. “Don’t think you can go ’round talkin’ that stuff ’bout your Mama. Through the grace of God, she gave me more in eight premature months than you ever could with your paycheck.”
“And that’s supposed to change the fact that she was nothin’ but a stupid drug dealer who didn’t care enough about you and me to choose a better way of life for herself?”
“I said shut your mouth!” Maggie spoke so loudly that her angry voice echoed hollowly in the small room. And then she reached up to wag her forefinger in Tracie’s face. “All you know ’bout your folks is what I done told you. But you don’t really know ’em. You don’t know that they was at my apartment an hour before they died. That they came to me with a special promise. ‘Dave and me goin’ stop sellin’ drugs and raise our baby decent,’ was what your Mama told me. And she meant it. But they never got that chance.”
Tracie frowned and gulped at a thick lump in his throat. As he wiped away the tears falling from his cheeks, he said hoarsely, “I didn’t know. I always thought somethin’ different.”
He turned back to the window, but he soon felt his Nana’s warm hand slowly stroking the center of his back as they both stared out at the glowing full moon and heavenly stars twinkling in the nighttime sky.
“Ross guessed you thought bad things ’bout your Mama. And that you feel owed to me for all my past troubles. But now I want to clear this mess up with you right here and now. Everything—both good and bad—that has happened in my life was for a special reason. It was part of God’s master plan. You don’t owe me nothin’.”
She grabbed hold of Tracie’s arm and turned him around to see her smiling face. “But never mind the past, Tracie. You my future. I’m always on my knees prayin’ for God to grant your heart’s desire. And I believe the answer to both our prayers was sent in the form of Ross.”
“You think he can really help get me published?”
Maggie sighed. “Yeah, but he just askin’ for a little help from us. You do what he say, Tracie.”
Tracie collapsed into the embrace of his Nana, hugging her small frame tightly to him. “Okay, I’ll do what Ross say. I will quit my job at Heavenly Delight.”
7
“Here it is,” Ross exclaimed, pointing his cane at the spines of hundreds of colorful hardcover books. The tall wood case was labeled high up at the top in large black letters: FICTION.
He and Tracie had started out early this Saturday, purchasing a desk at a salvage store in Bloomfield. Next, they traveled to a small, privately owned store in Manchester, where they received a substantial discount on the purchase of a used computer, already loaded with software, and a printer. The Buckland Hills Mall would be their final stop to shop for miscellaneous office supplies, but Ross had altered their plans with what he described as “a brief side trip to the library.”
It was difficult for Tracie to become focused and share Ross’s excitement, not when nothing in his life seemed right anymore. It had started wh
en Ross went behind his back to get his Nana to change Tracie’s mind and she complied. Then he felt compelled to quit his job, or else. He hated the idea of approaching Nick with the bad news that he would be leaving Heavenly Delight.
“Not my assistant manager,” Nick had responded with surprise and anger.
“You know how much it means for me to get my book published, Nick. I’ve dreamed of this all my life.” Tracie spent his last two weeks putting in more hours than ever before, and he urged Nick to hire the very capable Liola, the thirty-something woman who was the second in seniority at the restaurant after Tracie, to take over as assistant manager.
“Here what is?” Tracie asked curtly, still not quite present.
“Here, on the bookshelves, is your destiny.”
Ross had learned to ignore Tracie’s temper, which grew shorter and shorter with the passing days. This change had begun with minor signs, such as Tracie’s one-word answers to Ross’s questions, becoming no more than mumbled responses if pressed. But lately, Tracie was even more temperamental in their conversations, and not for any apparent reason.
“All right, Tracie. I’ve had enough of your attitude. I have tried to ignore it, but that’s not working. It’s obvious there is something on your mind, and I think I know what it is.”
“You were wrong to go to Nana. You knew she would make me quit my job. You went behind my back to get what you wanted.” Tracie pointed a blaming forefinger at Ross for starting this conversation, the confrontation that Tracie had struggled to avoid for weeks now.
“Do you know how important it is for me that you succeed as a writer? I have finally discovered what I can do to help make you and Maggie happy, and it’s very simple. I used to be a literary agent. You want to get your book published. And I believe that means we can work together to make that happen. But here you are, saying what you are not willing to sacrifice: ‘I want all this, Ross, but I will not do that.’ Do you realize that most great successes are the result of even greater sacrifices?”
A CHANGE OF HEART: Book 1 of the Hartford Series Page 11
