Church
It shocked the hell out of me to walk into the sanctuary and see Jones sitting on the back pew. I stutter-stepped on my four-inch heels. “Jonah?”
He looked up from where he had been studying his phone. A slow grin spread across his face. Then he looked at me like he was still savoring the taste of my coochie. “What’s good, pretty mama?” He licked his lips. I looked away for a second to gather myself and my thoughts.
“Hey. You go here now?” I asked.
I twisted my lips to the side. “You just decided to come this morning?”
He tried his best to look innocent, but failed. “Yeah.”
I leaned close to him. “Did you come here to see me?”
“Nah. I saw you in my dreams all last night.”
The line was corny as hell, but I still couldn’t help muttering, “Same.” I stood up straight. “Well, since my whole family and your whole family go to this church, you really don’t have to sit alone. Come sit with us.”
He hesitated briefly. “You sure?”
“Come on.”
He followed me to the pew that our families inhabited.
Though they were surprised, everybody greeted him kindly.
We sat down next to each other. The choir sang, the announcements were given, and the pastor preached.
Somewhere during the service, Jones’ hand found mine.
He laced his fingers through mine, and I fought back a smile.
Alisha Kingsley didn’t raise her girls in church.
She gave us a foundation, even taught us about the Lord, but we weren’t regular church attendees, not when my mom was raising four girls on her own and picking up extra work shifts any time she could.
I didn’t go to church as a teenager. But the way Jones was sneaking to hold my hand and the fact that I had butterflies in my stomach, acting crazy wild, made me feel how it must’ve felt to have a young crush at church.
Later that day, when I arrived at my mother’s house for Sunday dinner, she, my sisters, and even Mrs. Strong met me on the front porch.
“What?” I questioned when they all came pouring out the front door, one after the other.
“Don’t be asking us, what,” Perkins said.
I loved my eldest sister, but she was definitely the pushiest of the bunch.
That was why she was also the last one I ever confided in.
Although I was closest in age to Bailey, I preferred to confide in Collins, .
. . or hell, my mama. Collins and my mom were the two who were the most helpful and least judgy.
My mom took my hand in hers, the same hand that Jones had been sneaking to hold. “You and Jones? What’s going on there?”
“I know you’re too smart to take up with the town slut, Churchy.” That was Perkins, of course, being herself.
“Not the town slut.” Bailey giggled.
“People change, Perk.” Collins was logical. That was what made her a good businesswoman.
“Do they, Coll?”
Our mother chimed in. “Yes, they do.” The seriousness of her tone was evidence of the fact that she, herself, had changed. After having four daughters by four different men, she was now in a stable and loving marriage to a man who was able to look beyond her past.
Perkins bucked right down.
“And like I said before, I haven’t heard Jones’ name attached to any shenanigans in a minute. Now when people mention him in the salon, they’re talking about how smoothly that Humanity for Community project is running under his guidance,” Collins continued.
“I don’t care about all that.” Perkins waved her off. “Your name is your brand while you’re getting your hair care line off the ground, Church. Do you really want your name attached to his, if his biggest claim to fame is having sex in public outside of some barn?”
“Now Collins just told you that was dead,” Bailey finally spoke.
“Nobody’s talking about that anymore. Most people don’t have anything bad to say about Jones at this point.
People are constantly stopping Bright to tell him how good Jones is doing on the project.
It’s not that many decent black men in Jackson Falls, Perk.
I mean, if he’s working to turn it around, and Church is interested in him, . . . let her have this.”
That was one of the things about being the youngest. Entire conversations about me went on as if I wasn’t even standing there.
“Are you interested in him, Churchy?” Collins questioned.
Before I could speak, our mom chimed in. “Because he’s definitely interested in you. Bayliss said you have his nose so wide open that he could see Jones’ brain.”
That made me chuckle. Was I interested in him?
I thought about my interactions with Jones since I’d met him.
How he was nice enough to drive me when I didn’t feel confident enough to make my delivery.
How proud he was to show me my finished production room.
How he’d given me a heads-up about Bright inviting him to Sunday dinner so I wouldn’t be uncomfortable.
How he brought me dinner, even after I turned down the invite to the drive-in movie, just because I didn’t want to be seen in public with him.
I looked my mother in the eyes. “He’s a really nice guy, Ma.”
She nodded.
“I’m interested.”
Mrs. Strong smiled big and clapped her hands together once. “I can feel it. This is going to be another family connection. A Sumners and Kingsley connection.” She looked at my mother. “One of your girls connected to my family tree.”
“Oh my gosh!” I threw my hands up. “All I said was that I’m interested in the man, and y’all are marrying me off to him.”
“Stranger things have happened,” Bailey commented.
“Where is my Strong or Sumners man?” Perkins asked.
“Girl, just marry Brewer, and be done with it.” Bailey laughed at herself.
“No offense, Mrs. Beverly, but your sons, . . . with the exception of Bright, are a little vanilla for my tastes. They’re kinda . . . boring. And in my opinion, Brewer is the dullest one.”
“Did you just call my man boring?” Collins asked with fake outrage.
“Glad she left my man off that list,” Bailey bragged.
“But she included mine,” our mother said.
“Collins, Beckham spends his days taking people on hikes and observing nature. Sorry, boo. That’s a snooze fest. And, Mama, your man spends his day doctoring on sick horses. Come on. That isn’t exciting.”
Our mother gave her the finger, and the rest of us cracked up with laughter.
“Can we go in now?” I asked. “Sunday dinner isn’t gonna cook itself.”
We all moved into the house. Bayliss caught me by the hand in the foyer. “Let me talk to you, Steppy.”
Bayliss called me and my sisters “Steppy.” It was his shortened version of the word stepdaughter.
He pulled me into the family room. All of my brothers-in-law, along with the elder Mr. Strong, and Jones were in there.
“I just want you to know,” he began, “that, while your mama had you out there on the front porch, I had this knucklehead in here, letting him know that you are not to be played with. I don’t care how he ran through those other young ladies.
I don’t care about the shenanigans tied to his name in town.
All I care about is you. And he had better not do anything that has your name dragged through the mud, or he’ll have to see me. ”
“And me,” Bright added.
“And me,” Beckham said.
“And me.” Mr. Strong’s words surprised me.
Jones stood from the sofa. “And I told them I won’t.” He crossed the room.
I looked at all the men in the room, all the men who had become family to me in the last few years.
I had grown up in a family of women with an overabundance of feminine energy.
I loved the difference in the male energy, but I could never let them know it, so I turned up my nose and moved my gaze to Jones. “That must’ve been so cringe.”
Everybody laughed, including Jones.
I grabbed his hand. “Let’s get out of here before they start up again.”
Jones let me lead him to the back deck. I wanted to laugh at myself because our mom’s back deck was where Bailey and Bright used to hang out when they were courting. It was like I was keeping up a tradition or something.
Jones took in the view of the mountains. “Damn, the view is dope.”
“It is,” I agreed. “I wish I had more of a view.”
“Now that I’ve seen this, I think I’ma have to rethink the location of the land I want to buy.
Make sure I get something peaceful to look at whenever I’m trying to chill.
” We were both quiet for a little bit. “Lex and I decided to treat ourselves to a football game for our birthdays. Looked online and saw that the Vipers are playing next Sunday.”
“The Vipers?” I repeated. “That’s your team?”
“Yeah. They’re having a good-ass season. They’re six and zero. We figure we better go see them before the streak ends.”
“Who are they playing? The Portland Pioneers?” I figured that the team from Virginia had to be playing somewhere close for him and Lex to be considering going.
He gave me a sheepish look. “Nah. They’re playing the Coyotes.”
My eyes widened. “The Chicago Coyotes?”
He smiled as he nodded.
“And they’re playing in . . .” I felt like I wasn’t following what he was telling me.
“They’re playing in Virginia Shore. Me and Lex are gonna fly out for the game. He’s talking about bringing Mari with him.” He shook his head. “I told him that I’m not tryna be no third wheel at my own birthday shit. So, I’m wondering if you wanna roll.”
I stared at him silently for a few seconds. “Jonah Sumners.”
He grinned at me calling him by his entire government. “What’s up?”
“If you really want me to go, you know you need to ask me in a better way than that. What? You trying to get me to go as the homie? Or are you trying to get me to go as—”
He cut me off. “Miss Church, would you consider hanging out with me on this birthday trip? It would be my honor and my pleasure to spend time with you like that.”
I wanted to smile because he was so damn fine, and when he humbled himself, he was even finer. “Who’s paying for this birthday parlay?”
“I’m covering you, sweetheart. All you need to bring is you.”