Page 19 of Honey's Special Roux

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!”

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