Chapter 5
“Where are we going?” I finally asked as we pulled into a neighborhood I’d never seen before.
I’d been so caught up in our conversation, I hadn’t stopped to look where he’d taken me until we’d come to a stop in front of a one-story house with caution tape blocking it off from public access. The doors and windows were boarded up as well.
“This is where I grew up,” Marquise explained.
The house was almost scary looking. What was I supposed to say?
“It looks like there’s a story in there somewhere.”
“I found my mama dead in the kitchen with a crack pipe burning a hole in her hand.”
My heart ached for him. Only seventeen years old and had already seen so much and been through so much pain and suffering. “Marquise, I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“I want you to know we are from two different lives, Honey. All I know how to do is hustle and fight for my life. I don’t know how to be soft. I don’t know how to love and trust in a healthy way. Being with me means there will be days I shut down or black out.”
His words were even. We were so young, yet he’d been through so much. We weren’t from the same lifestyles, but I felt like our differences would strengthen us.
“It doesn’t matter what life you lived before me. Together, we’ll be just fine. Okay?”
“Okay.” He leaned forward and kissed me.
Butterflies swirled in my tummy. Marquise was special. He was mine.
“You know you have to explicitly ask me to be your girlfriend, right? I don’t go just on vibes and feelings. I’m a very verbal and literal person.”
He chuckled. “Cool. Will you be my girl?”
“Hmm, I don’t know.” I teased him.
“I’ll leave yo’ ass right here for the vultures.”
I gasped. “Marquise!” I swatted his arm.
“What?”
“Don’t play with me.”
“Nah, baby. You don’t play with me. You gon’ be my lady or not?” he asked again.
“Yes.”
He smirked. “That’s what the fuck I thought. Gimme a kiss.”
I shook my head as I cupped his face in my hands. I leaned over the console and kissed him softly. He smiled against my lips, and my heart nearly burst out of my chest. This was all so much for us to be sixteen and seventeen years old.
“You want to see another part of my life before we head back to your side of town?” he asked.
“Absolutely. Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“Okay, boyfriend.” I giggled as I covered my mouth.
He tittered before hitting a U-turn in the street. He turned the music up, and we jammed the short ride to what looked like a community park. This time, we got out of the car and walked along the stone path to the community center doors. We walked around the side, and the sight before me was breathtaking.
“Marquise, this is… wow.”
The wall was a mural of his mother and other women who had died from drugs in the community. The drawings of the women were soft and lifelike. Their gentleness was present in the detailed sketches.
“Who did this?” I asked as I took a few steps back to admire the full picture.
Marquise scratched the back of his neck. “Me and a few other local artists.”
“You did the section for your mom, huh?” I quizzed.
“Yup. How do you know which one is my mom?”
I smiled. “She has the same freckles as you.”
I lifted my hand up to touch the spots around his nose, forehead, and cheeks. His skin flushed a soft red.
“Chill. You gon’ make niggas think I’m soft.”
“You can be soft with your lady,” I explained. I held his hand as we continued to admire the mural.
If Marquise wanted to, he could monetize his artistry. He was absolutely talented. There were so many programs he could get into where they would find him art commissions. I wouldn’t bring it up today, but down the line, I would help him find a better source to make money.
“I haven’t been on a playground in years. Let me get on the swing real quick!”
I tugged him over to the playground and examined the swing before I sat down and kicked my feet. Marquise stood a few feet in front of the swing and watched me.
“You know you a kid for this, right?” he asked with amusement in his tone.
“Not really. Who doesn’t love a good time on the swings?”
“Me. I was more of a monkey bar and jungle gym kid.”
“I remember in like first grade when I thought I was big enough for the monkey bars. I missed the bar and fell face first on the ground. Knocked a tooth out and everything.”
“Silly ass.” He laughed.
“I learned to stick to the rivers and the lakes I was used to.”
I watched the sunset as I slowed down on the swing. I stopped kicking my feet and waited for the swing to stop naturally. When I stood up, I pulled Marquise to the slide.
“Wait for me at the end of the slide.”
“After this, we’re leaving. This is not the type of area you want to be in after dark.”
“Okay.”
I went up to the top of the slide and slid down. Marquise laughed as I squealed from the speed I went down. I pulled him by the shirt until he fell on top of me.
“What are you doing?” he asked with a raised brow as he used his forearms to prop himself up to hover over me.
“Kissing my boyfriend on the slide.”
I pecked his lips several times before I wrapped my legs around his waist.
“Nah, baby. Don’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to take yo’ virginity on a dirty ass children’s slide. Don’t rush it because when it happens, it’s gon’ be something you never forget, okay?”
“Okay.”
I felt frustrated with myself. I’d been adamant about keeping my virginity sacred until I was at least out of high school, and yet here I was… ready to throw away my morals to feel him.
“Don’t trip about it. We gon’ be straight until you are actually ready.”
Buzz.
Buzz.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. Marquise stood up and helped me off the slide. I pulled my phone out and saw Granny’s name and picture on the screen. I answered.
“Hey, Granny Janie.”
“Don’t hey me, child. Where are you?”
“I’m at the park with a friend.”
“What happened to you cooking dinner with me tonight?”
I gasped. “Oh, my goodness! I forgot. I’m heading home now. Sorry.”
“I’ll just get started. We can reschedule.”
“No, please. Just give me a little time to get home.”
She sighed. “It’ll be too late to cook. I’ll take something else out for dinner tonight. Whip up some Philly cheese steaks instead. We can make the gumbo tomorrow night… if you have time for your granny.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry for losing track of time.”
“Don’t worry about it. I love you, Honey. Get home safely.”
“I will. Love you, Granny.”
“Love you too.”
The call ended. I hadn’t missed a cooking session with my granny but one time when I got in trouble at school and was on punishment. It was my favorite bonding activity with her. We chatted in the kitchen while she taught me a new recipe.
“You got to get back home?” he asked.
“Yeah. I got so carried away, I lost track of time. It’s almost time for dinner.”
“Understood. I’ll get you back to your side of town.”
He draped his arm around my shoulder and led me back to the car. He motioned to walk around the car, but I stopped him.
“I know it may not be a big deal, but my dad always opens the door for my mom. I’d like you to open the doors for me too.”
He contemplated my words for only a moment before he nodded. “I got you. I ain’t ever paid attention to shit like that before.”
“Yeah, it’s like one of the most basic forms of caring.”
“I’m gon’ keep that in my mind. I appreciate you for speaking up and letting me know.”
“Yeah. We’re both going to learn how to love each other properly.”
“Fa sho.” He opened the door for me and waited until I was comfortable before he closed it and jogged to his side of the car.
This might be better than I imagined.
* * *
A few days had passed before Granny and I finally got the time to work on the roux recipe together. Between school, church, and family, we both had busy schedules.
“Everybody makes their roux differently,” Granny explained as she began the tutorial.
“What color is the roux supposed to be?”
“The color of you and me,” she answered.
I giggled. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Another important thing to remember is every city has a different definition of gumbo. Some people make seafood soup and call it gumbo, chile. What will make or break the gumbo is the roux, though.” We sliced and diced and prepped our kitchen so the cooking part wouldn’t get slowed down by maintenance.
“Right. My fingers are still numb from how small we diced those veggies.”
“It’s important to have your holy trinity chopped small. They are there as flavor enhancers.”
Between her informative voice and the soft sounds of Johnny Taylor in the background, my soul was content in the moment.
“We have our large pot ready for the most important part. If the roux burns, there’s no saving it. We’d have to start all over.”
She placed vegetable oil in the pot’s bottom. “If they use butter, they’re doing it wrong. Butter burns too fast. Vegetable oil can hold a higher heat and can guarantee a better cook on the roux.”
She poured a few cups of flour into the vegetable oil.
“You want to stir the roux to make sure it all cooks evenly and turns a beautiful dark brown.”
Once the roux was the right color, we moved on to the next steps. We poured the onions, green peppers, and celery into the roux. We waited a few beats to add a few spoons of minced garlic. The scent of the vegetables sauteing in the roux filled the air.
“It already smells so good.”
“We’re going to throw in the shrimp and andouille sausage next. The peeled crawfish tails can go in once those have simmered in the roux.”
We spent the next twenty minutes adding all the meat to the pot. Besides the shrimp, sausage, and crawfish tails, we also added snow crab legs. We kept the crab in clusters. The meat soaked in the roux.
“Now let’s add the seasonings.”
We picked up all the spices we’d lined up. Thyme, Cajun seasoning, Old Bay, Worcestershire sauce, and Granny’s secret ingredients. She poured a liquid and an additional spice inside a cup and mixed it thoroughly before adding it to the pot.
“I’ll tell you what this is when you get accepted into culinary school.” She bumped her hip against mine.
“I can’t wait!”
“Grab those chicken broth containers.”
After I twisted the tops off two, I passed them to her. While she poured them in, I opened the containers of the other two and finished it. Once the broth was in, she tossed in two bay leaves.
“Stir it all in there for me, baby girl. I’m going to clean up. Once you give it a good stir, put the lid on it, and we let it simmer for a while.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I stirred the gumbo happily for about a minute. Then I placed the lid on top and reduced the heat slightly.
Mary J. Blige’s cover of “Sweet Thing” by Chaka Khan filled the space as we washed dishes together.
“How are you doing, Honey?” Granny Janie asked as she dried off her hands and grabbed her cup of wine.
I shrugged. “Same as always.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“It’s true? I’m happy.”
“You know, I was waiting for you to tell me, but I heard it in church instead. You’re dating Dedra’s nephew?”
My heart sank to my booty hole. “Ma’am?”
“Don’t play any games, Honey Tea Hix.”
“We’ve been dating for a few weeks. I was struggling to find the time to tell you. I didn’t want to make you upset…” I chewed on my fingernails.
“You broke a promise to me.”
My head hung low. “I’m sorry. Are you mad at me?”
“I’m not mad. I’m really disappointed. I don’t want you to get caught up in his issues and ruin the future you’re setting up for yourself.”
“I know, but I promise he won’t ruin anything. I’m actually making sure he gets involved in church. He’s promised to join us on Sunday. He wants to have a relationship with God.”
“Honey, you are sixteen years old, baby. You should not take on the responsibility of healing a broken soul. How can you focus on learning who you are while you’re also trying to fix someone else? It doesn’t seem like you’re getting a fair trade in this.”
I shrugged. “Helping Marquise comes naturally, Granny. It’s like we are connected in a way. Even his cousin said he’s been staying home more since we started dating. I can save him from the streets.”
She scoffed. “No, you can’t, and don’t let me ever hear you say something so preposterous again.”
“I get you judged him based on his past. You dismissed him before you even got to know him. If you just talk to him, you’d know he’s not as bad as all the stories you’ve heard about him make him seem. You claim to be a loving Christian woman, but you won’t even give Marquise a chance. Why is that? Why can’t you welcome him with open arms and extend your love to him like you’ve done to other troubled youth in the neighborhood? Why do you hate him?” Tears were pouring from my eyes as I sobbed.
Granny pulled me into her arms and rubbed my back. “Hush up, child.”
“Why do you hate him?”
“I don’t hate him, Honey. Please breathe.”
I took a deep breath as my sobs quieted down. I wiped at my tears and stepped back. Granny grabbed the long wooden spoon to stir the gumbo before she returned her attention to me.
“I don’t hate him, but I dislike the amount of energy he’s taking from you. You broke a promise, you missed several engagements, and you are changing before my eyes. I don’t hate him, but I hate the effect he has on my eldest grandbaby.”
“Granny. Give him a chance. You’ll love him just as much as I do.”
Granny sighed. “Invite him over to dinner tonight.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Let’s sit down and see where his head is at.”
“Granny, you’re the best!” I exclaimed. With a jump into her arms, I pulled her in for a big hug.
“Yeah, yeah. It’s almost ready, so go get your little boyfriend.”
I giggled. “Yes, ma’am!”
Most people would be scared to meet their partner’s family, but Marquise would fit in perfectly. His authentic self would make them all love him. Plus, I couldn’t wait to see his reaction when he tasted Granny’s gumbo with the special roux for the first time.