Church Folk - Michele Andrea Bowen [28]
Essie glanced at her mother, praying she wasn't paying too close attention to what he was saying.
But Lee Allie wasn't a bit fooled by their exchange and recognized that Essie was just mad at herself for liking the feel of that man someplace he had no place being—all up on her. She wanted to tell that girl it wasn't a crime to like the feel of a man, if he were the right man and her husband. And Lee Allie felt that at twenty-five, it was high time Essie got interested in a man. All she did was work and save money so that she could move to Chicago or St. Louis and open a dressmaking shop. It had never even dawned on that girl that it would be nice to have a good man to share these dreams with.
As far as Lee Allie was concerned, the man in her kitchen was a good man—and a good man for Essie. She only hoped that her hardheaded child had sense enough to know this herself.
Chapter Four
REV. JAMES PERSONALLY ESCORTED THEOPHILUS TO Mother Harold's, out of politeness, but with no intention of staying. Judging by the smile frozen on Mother Harold's face when she answered the doorbell, she was not eager to welcome him either. Still, after ushering them in, she announced, "Rev. Simmons, we will put your things in the guest room, then proceed to the living room for afternoon tea. I hope that you will join us, Rev. James."
Silently begging God's forgiveness, Rev. James cleared his throat and said, "Mother Harold, I'm afraid I will have to pass on your invitation. Lord knows, there a few more sick and shut-in I have to attend to before my day is through."
Theophilus couldn't believe that he was hearing such a baldheaded lie from Rev. James. For the first time he realized that his mentor, like every other preacher, found that certain members of his flock tested his religion. But Mother Harold seemed more relieved than offended by the excuse. With a warm goodbye to Theophilus and a quick nod to Mother Harold, Rev. James put on his hat and quickly made his escape before she could repeat the invitation. When the front door closed, Theophilus was left alone, feeling like he was locked in some place he definitely did not want to be.
"Rev. Simmons, the guest room is this way," Mother Harold said, leading him down the hall to a spacious bedroom decorated in pale beige and mint green. Everything in this room was expensive and tasteful, from the plaid, beige, and mint green armchair, to the mint satin damask bedspread and the matching draperies at the window. It was a fancy room that hinted at long-standing financial comfort but without the welcoming warmth he felt at Mrs. Neese's or the Lanes' sweet little home.
"Rev. Simmons, put your things in the closet. After you wash up, come join us in the living room for dessert and coffee. We also have homemade pound cake, handpicked strawberries, and fresh whipped cream. Is this suitable to you?"
Theophilus relaxed a little bit and said, "Mmm-mmm. Pound cake and strawberries would sure hit the spot about now."
Mother Harold scowled as if he had just taken something off her dresser and put it in his pocket. He couldn't even begin to figure out what he had done to deserve such a nasty look.
Saphronia, who had appeared in the doorway while they were talking, knew exactly what was wrong. "Rev. Simmons, my grandmother disapproves of slang expressions."
Theophilus was confused. "Huh?" he said.
"Slang, Rev. Simmons. My grandmother hates to hear Negroes use idioms like 'hit the spot'—or say 'Mmm-mmm' or 'Huh.' "
Theophilus looked from Saphronia to her grandmother in disbelief, thinking to himself, "It's gonna be a very long evening."
Theophilus entered the living room just as Mother Harold was setting a large silver tray of desserts on the middle of the coffee table. She motioned for