Chapter 15
15
Ray rented Angel a black Benz with tinted windows. During the drive, Angel didn’t have much time to focus on his frazzled nerves, because Iris kept him busy with questions. She wanted to know the main differences between a town like Maren and a major city like Atlanta. His answer: Almost everything. What was Maren’s population? He’d guess a little less than four thousand. How about the demographics? Mostly African American. Did he like growing up there? Yes and no. Would he ever consider moving back? Probably not.
The questions continued, but Angel didn’t mind. He liked that he was the object of her undivided attention. As they came upon the exit for Maren, his stomach muscles tensed again. He reminded himself that he was only visiting, and he wouldn’t be here for long. He had no reason to be nervous.
An old fading sign that said Welcome to Maren greeted them as they came off the highway. They drove down a long road, woods on either side of them for miles. He rolled down the windows. It was still, quiet. The air smelled fresher here. The woods continued until a FedEx warehouse appeared on their right.
Angel pointed to it. “A lot of kids from high school got part-time jobs there once they turned eighteen.”
Iris looked at the large facility and the white FedEx trucks parked outside. She turned to back to Angel. “Did you work there?”
“Nah, I worked at Cook Out, remember?”
She smiled. “Oh yeah.”
“Speaking of.” He pointed to the Cook Out on their left as they came to a traffic light at the end of the street. A line of cars wrapped around the pale brick building. The scent of French fries and burgers wafted through the air. The smell immediately brought back memories of wearing red polos, black pants and no-slip shoes.
“I worked there ,” he said.
Iris closed her eyes and grinned. “Hold on. I’m trying to picture it.”
“Welcome to Cook Out. What can I get for you today?”
She opened her eyes and laughed. “There’s the accent.”
Angel’s eyes twinkled as he watched her, pleased once again to have made her laugh.
They continued on. Angel pointed out his high school. They drove by the Kroger’s, which still looked the same, although some of the businesses in the shopping complex had closed down. He looped around and down a back road, showing Iris where he used to cut through the woods on his walk home from school. He drove by the K–8 school and the field where he sang the national anthem before annual Fourth of July celebrations. Iris listened intently to Angel. He liked that she was interested in the things that he shared, no matter how insignificant or mundane.
Whenever he came home, he felt like he was hovering above the town and observing it from a bird’s-eye view. He was a product of Maren, but he was no longer part of its ecosystem. In reality, he felt farther from Maren than ever. He didn’t think that was necessarily a bad thing, and that made him feel guilty.
“Where’s your church?” Iris asked.
Angel paused. Mount Olive wasn’t that far away—nothing was too far from one point to the next in Maren. He hadn’t been sure if he wanted to drive by the church, especially since he’d be back in a few weeks. But Iris was here with him now, and she wanted to see it, so he’d show her.
Mount Olive was in the same neighborhood as his parents’ house. He made a right onto Mount Olive’s street and he slowed to a crawl as they came upon the church. He’d visited last Christmas before the renovations. It used to be a simple building, but thanks to Angel’s donations, they’d built a second story with space for a nursery and a new Sunday school room. It was newly painted a fresh, bright white. They’d replaced the generator, renovated the first floor and basement and repaved the parking lot to remove the potholes. The parking lot was empty. A sign outside read, God loves. God forgives.
“This is my church,” he said to Iris. “Mount Olive.”
She leaned past him to get a better look. He watched as she took in the space, gaze roaming. “It’s beautiful,” she said.
He turned to look at the building again. “Yeah,” he replied quietly. “It is.”
He thought of the many days and nights he’d spent here, attending weekly Bible study and vacation Bible school in the summers. Doing his homework in the pews and watching over Leah after school while they waited for their parents to finish work. His mom worked as the church secretary and his dad had been a custodian. Growing up, he’d spent more time at church than he had anywhere else. That was why he’d stepped in to help with the much-needed renovations. Despite how his memories of church all felt tainted with Cora and her judgmental ways, Mount Olive would always be an important chapter in his life.
“You want to get out?” he asked Iris. She nodded.
They walked to the front door and found that it was locked, which made sense. It was a random Thursday afternoon and there wasn’t a reason for the church to be open to the public. Gravel crunched under their feet as they walked around the side of the church. Angel pressed his face up against the glass-pane window and peered inside at the pulpit and organ and the raised pews for the choir.
Iris moved next to him and peeked through the window too.
“So, this is where you started,” she said.
“Yeah.” He’d never felt nervous to sing in front of a crowd. Not even when he was a kid. Singing always felt bigger than him. It made him feel like he had a purpose in life to bring people joy.
Iris smiled. “Well, then, I guess the world should thank your church for encouraging your gift.”
He looked at her. He didn’t know if it was a trick of the light or what, but it almost seemed as though she was glowing. He had the strongest sense that this was where he was meant to be at this exact moment, with her. The feeling of rightness overwhelmed him. It made his hands tingle and his heart pounded harder.
Unaware of the emotions that he was experiencing, Iris pulled out her phone and checked the time. Her brows pinched together a little as she looked at him again. “You should probably stop by and see your parents now,” she said. “That way you’ll have enough time with them before we have to head back.”
He deflated, remembering the real reason that they were here to begin with. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Softly, she said, “I don’t have to come inside or anything. I can wait for you in the car.”
He thought again about how he’d rather not have Cora meet Iris, or anyone from his new life, frankly. But he didn’t regret bringing Iris home with him. He’d liked showing her the places that were once important to him and had contributed to the fiber of his life.
And he didn’t want Iris waiting around in a car in a neighborhood that was unfamiliar to her while he talked to his parents. Plus, he’d already called ahead of time to tell his mom that he was bringing a friend. They didn’t have to stay long, and he definitely didn’t plan to.
“You can come inside with me,” he said. “It’s okay. They know you’ll be with me.”
The smaller ranch-style houses on his parents’ street looked the same. He pulled up in front of his childhood home. He’d offered to buy his parents a new house, but they’d declined. They wanted to stay on their street. Instead, he’d paid for renovations to their house. They’d knocked down the back wall to add more kitchen space and a full dining room. For all her opinions about Angel’s career, Cora didn’t turn down his offers to update the interior and exterior of their home.
The front door opened and his father, Percy, lifted his hands above his brows, shielding his view from the sun as he looked at Angel’s idling car. The windows were tinted enough that he couldn’t easily see inside. Percy was in his late sixties and still had a full head of thick hair, although it was graying. He had the same brown complexion as Angel and tall, like Angel, too.
“Is that your dad?” Iris asked.
“Yeah.” His nerves rocked around inside of him like a ball in a pinball machine. He mentally counted to ten, then turned to Iris. “Ready?”
She nodded, gaze searching. “If you are.”
“Okay.” He opened his driver’s side door. “Oh, by the way,” he said quickly, “today’s my birthday. They’ll probably say something about it.”
Iris gaped at him. “ What? ” she whispered.
But Angel was already climbing out of the car. Percy walked down the driveway to greet them. His eyes widened as he took in Angel’s nose ring and burgundy-dyed hair. Usually, when Angel visited, he toned down his appearance. But coming here today had been so last-minute, he didn’t have time to make changes. He fought the urge to quickly pull out his nose ring or throw on his hood. He reminded himself that he had nothing to be ashamed of.
“Angel,” Percy said. “Good to see you, son. Happy birthday.”
“Thanks, Dad. Good to see you too.”
Percy wasn’t a physically affectionate person, whereas Angel always had been, and there was an awkward beat as Angel tried to determine if he should initiate a hug. In the end, they hugged, brief and light.
“How’ve you been doing?” Angel asked. “The new medication okay? You like your new doctor?”
Angel had arranged for Percy to start seeing a specialist in Atlanta to treat his type 2 diabetes.
“I’m fine,” Percy said. “I like the doc good enough.”
Angel glanced at Iris, who hung back, watching them. He beckoned her over. “Dad, this is my friend Iris,” he said. “She made the drive with me from Atlanta. Iris, this is my dad, Percy.”
Iris stuck her hand out for a shake, offering a smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Percy said, nodding as he shook Iris’s hand. He looked at Angel. “Well, come on inside. Your mom is waiting.”
Angel and Iris followed Percy to the front door. Iris brushed her hand against Angel’s. She smiled at him softly, reassuringly. He smiled back, calmed some, but he nervously flexed his hands as his dad opened the door.
The front room smelled of sweet potatoes and ham. New furniture, sleek and modern, was arranged in the space. Framed pictures of Angel and Leah were tacked to the walls. He spotted the familiar photographs of him at church, as well as his picture-day portraits from middle school and high school. There were no pictures of him within the last five years, though.
Gospel music played in the kitchen. He heard his mom humming along. They followed Percy and found Cora at the sink with her back to them, shucking corn. The white granite countertops sparkled. There were brand-new appliances and a new stovetop, oven and fridge. Percy tapped her, and she glanced up, turning around. Cora favored Leah with her full, round face and light brown eyes. But where Leah was wiry, Cora was full-figured. Her coily hair, graying at the temples, was pinned back in a low bun.
“Well, here he is,” Cora said, untying her apron and washing her hands. She opened her arms toward Angel and hugged him. He was enveloped by the smell of her jasmine perfume and olive oil hair spray. She leaned back and blinked at him, analyzing his face, his hair.
Angel physically tensed, bracing himself, waiting for whatever inevitable comment she’d make.
“You’ve still got that nose ring, I see,” she said, tutting. “And this hair. It doesn’t even look natural!”
Ah, there it is.
“It’s good to see you, Mom,” he said, forcing himself to brush off her opinion about his appearance. “How are you?”
“I’m getting along. Thankful to see another day. But your sister! Goodness gracious, she went and shaved half her head! She sent me a picture!” Her expression grew pinched. “Did you have anything to do with that?”
“No.” He shook off the implied accusation and released a deep breath. “This is Iris, the friend I told you about. Iris, this is my mom, Cora.”
Iris stepped forward, her smile polite and steady. “It’s really nice to meet you. You have a beautiful home.”
“Thank you.” Cora did a quick sweep of Iris from head to toe. At least by appearance, she must have passed Cora’s test, because Cora allowed herself to smile in return. “Nice to meet you too. Please, let’s sit down. I’ll get some drinks. Lemonade all right with you?”
Angel and Iris confirmed that lemonade was fine. In the living room, they sat side by side on the long couch, while Angel’s parents sat on the love seat across from them.
“So, what work brings you to Atlanta?” Cora asked. She sat forward in her seat, looking at Angel closely again, eyes lingering on his hair, or rather, the shade of his hair.
Angel held his cup in his hands. He took a sip and hid his wince. Cora always made her lemonade too sweet. “I’m promoting skincare products with Iris’s company.”
“Skincare?” Cora frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Moisturizer, sunscreen, face wash,” Angel recited.
Iris smiled at him proudly. “I work at Save Face Beauty,” she explained. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard of it? Angel is our new brand ambassador and we’ve been doing meet and greets at a few stores across the country. Today’s stop is in Atlanta later this evening. You’re both more than welcome to come. I can even see about getting some complimentary products for you, if you’d like.”
Cora shook her head. “I don’t mess around with putting anything on my face but some Vaseline when it’s cold outside. No, thank you.”
If Iris caught Cora’s disapproving tone, she pretended not to, but hearing her dismiss Iris’s work that way bristled Angel.
“The products are good stuff,” he said.
Iris smiled at him. “And you’re doing an amazing job at promoting them.” She turned to Cora. “You should see how much Angel’s fans love him.”
“His fans,” Cora repeated, barely hiding her grumble. “Let me show you something.”
She went to the entertainment center and pulled down a CD case. Angel sighed, already knowing what she was holding. She brought his gospel CD to Iris. The album was self-titled. What was better than a gospel singer named Angel? On the cover, he was smiling off in the distance as the sun shone behind him. He looked so young.
The truth was that he loved his gospel album. He loved making the music. He just hated that Cora had been his manager.
Iris ran her fingers gently over the album case, looking down at it.
“You keep that for yourself. I have a lot,” Cora said. “This is Angel’s best work. Before he started wasting his talent.”
Iris’s head snapped up. Her mouth fell open slightly as she glanced between Angel and Cora.
Angel wished that he could feel as surprised as Iris, but he didn’t. This was a normal comment coming from Cora. He blew out another deep breath and tiredly rubbed a hand over his face.
“Mom,” he said. “Not today.”
“What?” Cora said. “I’m only speaking the truth.”
How could she declare it as truth so easily? What gave her the right? He hated how she always thought that she knew best and that her way was the only one worth doing.
“It’s your opinion ,” he said.
Cora put her hands on her hips. “You’re going to talk to me like that in my own house?”
Her house where he paid the bills with the money he earned by using his wasted talent ? He almost said it. The words were fighting to break through his lips. But he didn’t want to start a full-blown argument. Not here, not in front of Iris.
“I’m not talking to you any kind of way,” Angel said, working to keep his voice even.
Percy reached for his wife. “Cora, come on. Calm down.”
Angel looked at Iris, embarrassed that he’d ever thought bringing her here with him might somehow turn out okay. Iris was frowning, her attention focused on Angel’s face. Suddenly, she hopped up.
“Actually, we have to leave,” she said to his parents. “I just remembered that we need to meet with my assistant to go over some last-minute details back at the hotel.” She looked at Angel again. “It totally slipped my mind. I’m sorry.”
It was unlikely that anything slipped Iris’s mind ever. Angel recognized the out that she was giving him.
“Yeah, we’d better get going now,” he said, standing as well. He looked at his parents. “I’ll see you in a few weeks at the ceremony.”
They exchanged stiff hugs goodbye. Cora was clearly still upset and turned away, bustling back toward the kitchen. When he and Iris stepped outside, Angel felt like bricks were being lifted from his shoulders. Silently, they returned to the car. Angel took one last look at his parents’ house before he started the engine and pulled away. He was so relieved that he didn’t have to live there, that his life existed elsewhere now.
He looked over at Iris, who was chewing her bottom lip, frowning fiercely at a spot on the dashboard in front of her. Not only had he thrown off his day, he’d thrown off hers as well. He wanted to apologize.
“Your mom,” Iris said finally, shifting to look at him. “I’m sorry that she treated you that way.”
Angel released a heavy sigh. “Me too.”
“Is she always like that?”
“Every time I see her.”
Iris shook her head. Then, “Why didn’t you say anything about it being your birthday?”
He lifted his shoulders, tired, half-hearted. “I don’t like to make a big deal out of it.”
They fell quiet again.
Iris reached across the center console and rested her hand on top of Angel’s. He turned his palm up and threaded his fingers through hers. She kept her hand there for the entire drive back to Atlanta.