Hometown Favorite: A Novel (10 page)

They circled the town square three times to give needed focus
for points of interest. They saw the church where Dewayne
grew up and Cherie was still a faithful member-it remained
unlocked day or night, for who knew when God might call a
sinner to his house to repair a relationship. They ate lunch at their favorite diner, where many of the locals were happy to see
the hometown boy, and ordered a meat and three-vegetable
combination for Rosella whose refined palette was unaccustomed to such southern cuisine. It took a few moments for
her taste buds to accept the unusual flavors, but the food went
down smooth.

Their final stop was the cemetery to pay their respects to
Robert Dewayne Jobe.

"I don't come as often as I should;' Cherie said, linking all
three together with an arm around each one. "A part of me just
never wants to accept he's gone. I don't believe the good Lord
is a thief, but from time to time, in the dark quiet moments, I
do believe I was robbed of this man"

Rosella laid her arm over Cherie's shoulder, and Cherie
raised her hand to brush her fingers over Rosella's cheek.

"Except for his size, you're looking at the spitting image of
his daddy;" Cherie said. "No scientific explanation as to why
he's so big, but I love every ounce of him"

"Me too;" Rosella whispered.

The drive home from the cemetery was quiet until they
passed the high school. Rosella wanted to see where Dewayne
had played, and he promised to take her there in the evening
when no one would be around. Dewayne inquired about Jake
Hopper.

"There's talk he may retire;" Cherie said. "Jake was hoping
the athletic department would see him as a natural choice to
replace the head coach when he left two years ago, but the job
went to someone downstate. I think he's just doing his time"

"You never told me that. Do you ever see him?" Dewayne
asked.

Cherie could not answer. She had heard Dewayne but was
staring out the window, posing as though lost in thought and hoping he would not repeat his question. The timing of just
returning from the cemetery seemed like the truth of her
answer would be a betrayal. Jake had eventually gotten the
courage to ask Cherie to dinner, and though flattered by his
initial offer, she did not accept. She thought that would end
any future invitations, but she was wrong. By the fifth time,
she had run out of excuses. They had driven to Memphis
for dinner, the couple not ready to deflect the stares and
gossip from a Springdale populace that would follow a public appearance of an interracial couple. It had been a pleasant experience, which brought pangs of guilt that she might
be happy with someone other than her first love. However,
these secret trysts continued-strictly honorable with never
a hint of alcohol on Jake's breath-and Cherie had to admit
there was a furtive enjoyment in his attention. When all of
Springdale knew the position of head coach had been offered
to another, Jake's invitations became infrequent until they
stopped altogether.

Cherie was disappointed as this platonic companionship
had fizzled out, but she accepted it as another unexplainable
consequence of life.

"Mom, do you ever see Coach Hopper?" Dewayne repeated,
cutting off all of Cherie's escape routes.

"From time to time ... in passing;" she said.

"Well, tell him I said hello"

Cherie nodded to acknowledge her son's request, but she
kept her gaze on the familiar terrain passing outside the car
window.

After supper, Cherie shooed the couple out the door for some
alone time, so she could clean the kitchen before she caught her ride to the trustees' committee meeting at church. Rosella
had insisted on helping, but Cherie would have none of it.

"You two go on, now. It's a lovely evening, so go enjoy it."

When Dewayne pulled into the school parking lot and drove
around to the stadium, he saw the field was vacant with only a
couple of low wattage security lights shining on the fifty-yard
line. Dewayne helped Rosella climb over the fence, and they
walked onto the field.

"So this is where you set all those records," Rosella said.

"This is the place;' he answered as they reached the fortyyard line.

"What's it like to be back here?"

With that, he broke into a sprint as though her voice had
terrorized him. When he reached the end zone, he threw up his
arms in the signal of a touchdown and jogged back to Rosella
waiting for him on the fifty-yard line, casting a faint shadow
in the security lights.

"Just had to get out some energy," he said, dancing around
Rosella and teasing her by fluffing her hair with his hands.

"Boy, you are some kind of crazy tonight," she said, trying
to rein him in.

"Blame it on the moon. Blame it on love. Blame it on being
on the fifty-yard line with the woman I want to spend the rest
of my life with;" he said.

Rosella captured his hand and brought him to a stop.

"What did you just say?"

Dewayne fell to one knee and kept his head lowered until
he got full control of his breathing.

"I need to do this now while my blood is up."

He reached into his back pocket and retrieved the black
jewelry box.

"From USC to Springdale, Mississippi, is a long journey, but I see it as the hand of God. I'm only good at one thingcatching passes and running fast-and I believe it's what I'm
supposed to do with my life. But I don't want to do it alone,
and I don't want to do it without you. I believe you are the one
for me. My love for you consumes me, and I feel for the first
time in my life I am a whole man"

Dewayne raised his head and looked into Rosella's face. She
had closed her eyes as if meditating on the words Dewayne
was saying, words she desired him to speak, words that were a
communion of mutual love, words spoken like a tender prayer.
He kissed her hand, then opened it and placed the jewelry box
on her palm. Rosella gasped and fell to her knees. She stared at
the box as if she might open it by force of will alone. Dewayne
placed his long fingers on the lid and pulled it back. To anyone
but Rosella, the ring would not realign constellations-it was
a ring of the heart, and the only hearts that mattered were the
two beating on the fifty-yard line of Tiger Stadium.

"If you will have me, Ms. Rosella Caldwell, I would like to
be your husband for the rest of my life. I would like you to be
my wife. Will you marry me?"

The power of such love expressed was an ephemeral fracture
in the night's sky. Rosella pressed into her future husband and
laid her cheek upon his.

"Yes, I will marry you," she whispered. "And love you with
all my heart"

The Caldwell backyard had been turned into a wedding cosmos
masterminded by the daughter of an architect and an interior
designer: decorated tents and booths, each with a sampling of
finger-food cuisine from numerous cultures; arbors covered
in flowers; tuxedoed musicians; multicolored banners hanging from manicured trees; large framed photographs of the
happy couple mounted on easels and scattered throughout the
pristine gardens; a wedding altar constructed like a cathedral's
nave at the far end of the yard with the city of Los Angeles in
the background. The multitude of guests rambled through this
wonderland, drinking and eating their fill.

The list of highly favored guests was lopsided. Cherie, Sly,
and Jesse were all who had made it out from Springdale, and
a few of Dewayne's USC teammates who had not gone home
during this short break between summer school's voluntary
workouts and the beginning of the season. The rest of them represented the Caldwell side. Rosella and Dewayne had decided
against bridesmaids and groomsmen. When the musicians
began to play the wedding music, the bride and the groom
entered from separate sides of the patio and then were joined
by their families. The group began a casual march through the
backyard, flowing like a fresh stream through the guests with the Caldwells and Cherie flanking the couple's sides. The procession came to rest before the altar for a ceremony of prayers,
blessings, Bible verses, and original vows under the minister's
guidance.

Cherie had flown to Los Angeles to enjoy the days of parties
and preparations leading up to the wedding. The Caldwells
treated her like royalty, insisting she stay with them. At first she
was intimidated, fearful she might get lost in the vast square
footage or get in the way of the armies employed for this affair,
but just two days before the wedding, she had confided to her
son that she was putting in her order for a heavenly mansion
modeled after the Caldwells'

When Sly and Jesse flew in the day before the wedding, Sly
told Rosella it was not too late, she could still come back to
Miami. "Dewayne will be nothing but grief and trouble," he
said. "And only I can make you a happy woman."

Cherie put the kibosh on such jive talk. "What God hath
joined together this fool will not tear asunder;" she said and
reinforced the paraphrased quote with a slap to the back of
Sly's head.

Jesse looked a little better than the last time Dewayne saw
him. He had gained some weight, but his face was ashen and
haggard, and his movements were fidgety, almost spastic. He
kept disappearing during the pre-wedding socializing and
never seemed to be able to settle down. Dewayne pulled Sly
aside and asked if he noticed Jesse's unusual behavior, but Sly
said all he was noticing was the beautiful bride.

Before the evening concluded, Franklin instructed the waiters to supply every guest with a glass of champagne, and while
the waiters carried out that order, he led Joella and Cherie by
their hands onto the highest point of the patio where they could
be in full view of the wedding party. When three glasses of champagne appeared on the railing in front of the trio, Franklin
waved his hand for everyone's attention.

"What a pleasure it is to have you in our home. Thank you
for joining Joella and Cherie Jobe and me in witnessing the
union of our children and the creation of a new family."

He had to pause to hem in his emotions. He had not anticipated the sudden reminder of the absence of his older daughter
and two grandchildren. Joella slipped her arm around her husband's side, and Cherie placed a hand on his shoulder. The two
matriarchs brought Franklin's attention back to the moment.

"When Dewayne first showed up on my doorstep, I played
my part as the skeptic. What father doesn't assume that role
when it comes to his daughter? Has God ever created a man
good enough for a father's daughter? Apparently so or the
human race would have come to a quick end:"

A murmur of amusement passed over his audience.

"From the moment we met, I knew he was a cut above the
standard; yes, in physical size and in the quality of his character ... all credit due to Cherie Jobe. So the peaceable war
of attrition began that first night here on this patio when he
spoke so eloquently and without shame about his personal
history. About his profound respect for my daughter. In pursuing Rosella's love, you could say he was pursuing her parents'
love as well, and the three of us yielded to his gentle persuasion. This was not a situation of conqueror and conquered.
In all honesty, I say Dewayne Jobe's entry into our lives was
a victory for us all."

Sly and Jesse burst into applause, inspiring the wedding party
to join them and giving time for Franklin and the women at
his side to raise their glasses of champagne.

I must confess until now I had not paid close attention to the
game of football; no personal prejudice, just a lack of interest. But things have changed. Joella and I are looking forward to
this last season of Dewayne's college career, and I expect to be
in the stadium doing my part for the home team. And it's nice
to think we might have a potential Heisman Trophy winner
as a son.

A second round of applause began, but this time without
Sly's instigation.