Annie's Southern Heart

“oh shoot,” Dennis said, jumping off of his bed, dashing down the hall, down the stairs, and through the living room into the kitchen. Staring in frustration at the kitchen island, he watched as his melting popsicle dripping out the bottom of the packaging and onto the kitchen floor. Dennis’s Mom stood behind him, rubbing his shoulders. Dennis couldn’t believe he let the last popsicle melt, it was one of the hottest days of September, and he was waiting for the perfect day to eat it. He stood there reflecting with tears in his eyes.

“Dennis!” his Mother said quizzically, yelling from the top of the stairs.

“Yes!” he replied, poking his head out from inside the freezer in the garage.

“you’re not finished up here with your room, get up here and finish cleaning!” again, yelling, this time with a very affirmative tone.

“I’m coming.” He replied with a sigh of frustration, slamming the freezer shut.

Dennis stormed through the garage door and into the kitchen putting his popsicle he retrieved on the kitchen island. Frustrated, he stormed past the dining room, through the living room, and up the stairs, making a B-line to his room. His mom looked down at him watching him march right past her with a look of determination on his face. It was Saturday morning, and for a kid going to school, Saturdays were quite routine: Wake up, run downstairs and turn the TV on for four hours of Saturday morning cartoons, no responsibilities, no chores, no church, no homework, and most importantly, no school.

His Mom struck a deal with him early in the school year, she would allow him to wake up and watch his Saturday morning cartoons, as long as he did his chores right afterward. On occasion when his friends’ parents allowed them, Mrs. Roberts would host them as well. She would cook from scratch a mountain of biscuits and gravy, bacon, grits, and freshly squeezed orange juice. See Dennis was lucky when it came to homecooked meals, his Mom a local icon, she was a Sous Chef down at “Annie’s Southern Heart,” a restaurant dedicated to bringing southern cooking into the forefront of fine dining.

Dennis’s Mother turned down the Head Chef position on multiple occasions, her innovative dishes took the town, city, and state by storm, earning it two Michelin Stars. Although she did not want to hold the title as “Head Chef” she maintained a strong foothold in the kitchen due to her years of experience. However, everyone knew Mrs. Roberts was the brains behind the delicious food, but in order to have weekend mornings off with her Son, and church on Sundays, this allowed her the flexibility that she needed and felt Dennis could benefit from more some Mother and Son time.

Dennis began to clean his room, he walked over to the corner of the room where his toy football chest was located, he walked gingerly, sliding his feet across the carpet to make sure he did not step on any of his action figures that were laid out across the bedroom. He stood in the middle of his toys, took his left foot, and made a swooshing circle, making a clearing where he could sit down comfortably without breaking any of his action figures and began to pick them up and dump them back into the toy chest.

The process seemed like it was taking forever. Dennis didn’t have any issues with putting away his action figures, it was making his bed that was the issue. Dennis was only in the Fourth Grade and he had yet to master the art of bed-making, a skill even adults haven’t mastered. Dennis frustration was written all over his face, and heightened by the verbal frustrations he would express,

 “shoot….darn-it…ugh come on already,” he whispered to himself.

Finally, Dennis was able to get three of the four corners on, the last one was always the easiest, the first two were the hardest. Dennis smoothed out his bedsheet and added the comforter, along with his five pillows; Two of which rested on the headboard, they were the biggest. The next two, which were used mainly for sleeping, they were seated in front of the first two, and finally, the smallest rectangular-shaped pillow set in the front as the lead, tying the whole set together.

Dennis sat at the edge of the bed, his mood was somber, he looked over at his dresser and grabbed the picture that was knocked over from his uncoordinated cleaning. He turned it over and looked at it. It was a picture of himself with his father, they both were standing at the edge of the dock, both of their fishing lines floating in the water waiting for a fish to bite. Dennis and his dad were looking back at the camera smiling with both their thumbs up.

Tears poured from his eyes, he did not cry out loud, he never wanted his mother to see him cry, he was always taught by his father to be the man of the house. “Men don’t cry,” he said to himself with conviction. “Most men do,” his mom said gently. She sat at the edge of the bed with him, “I miss him too, every day, every morning, and every night,” Mrs. Roberts said, wrapping her arms around him. They both sat there in silence, as their tears streamed down their faces.

Time had gone by quickly and it was already two in the afternoon. Mrs. Roberts realized she had to be at work in an hour. Michelin Star restaurants are notorious for being packed during the weekend, this Saturday was no different.

“Why don’t you come, have something to eat before Aunt Kelsey picks you up at the restaurant? I’ll have Mike make you something while you wait.” She suggested while putting her hair up. “Yeah, that would be cool, I mean yes,” Dennis said, correcting himself for saying yeah. “Damn it!” he said, jumping off the bed and running downstairs to the kitchen.

Dennis left the garage in a hurry earlier this morning after his cartoons, he forgot he left the last popsicle on the kitchen island. His mom stood behind him as tears welled up around his eyes, blurring his vision as he watched as his popsicle melted away. It wasn’t the popsicle that was affecting him, ever since his dad passed away, the smallest problem could turn his day from good to bad. A failed quiz, a loss in a video game, waking up late, etc. Dennis was a stick of dynamite with a short emotional fuse ready to go off at any moment, being aware of this, he always tried to put on the strong face for his mother.

The two jumped in the family car and headed east towards downtown where Annie’s Southern Heart was located. They pulled up to the restaurant and parked. There were no lines for those who made reservations, serving did not start until 4:30pm it was currently only 2:45pm. This gave Mrs. Roberts enough time to make sure Dennis had enough to eat. “Hey, Mike! Can you make something for Dennis, my sister will be here shortly to pick him up, but I want to make sure he eats something!” She belted across the kitchen while she was fixing her chef's coat and priming her kitchen knives. “Yes, mam.” He said. “I got something coming right up! My specialty.” He whispered to himself.

“Yo! Big man, order up.” Mike burst into the office holding onto the door with one hand, and with the other scooting a bowl of shrimp and grits over to Dennis. “Heck yeah! Your shrimp and grits are the best!” Dennis exclaimed with excitement. “Enjoy man, you’re the only one that likes them,” he replied jokingly.

Dennis bit into the savory dish, every bite ripped through his taste buds, sending signals of delight throughout his entire mouth and body; Dennis knew there was nothing in the world like southern cooking. After finishing his bowl of food, Dennis reached into his backpack and pulled out an envelope that read “Dennis.” It was a letter from his Dad, a letter that was written before he passed away. Dennis’s Dad had a long battle with leukemia, it took three long years before he gave in to the illness.

He took the letter out of the envelope and read it. Dennis read the letter once every day, usually before bed, but on occasion whenever he felt he was having a bad day. It was his lifeline to his father.

“Yo, Dennis!

    What’s up, Son, how are you? I know it isn’t going to be easy for you, or your mom, but just know I am always with you. Our memories cannot fade from your heart, or from your memory, and as I sit here in heaven, I have all of mine. The pressures of the world are going to come knocking at your door eventually, unfortunately, in some cases they have arrived sooner, and I won’t be there to guide you through this. They say it takes a village to raise a child, this is true. I know I am gone but you still have your, Pop-Pop, Nana, Grandma, Grandpa, looking out for you; Your cousins, aunts, and uncles as well. Lean on them when you are feeling down, ask them for guidance, and remember to send a prayer every now and then up here and ill reply.

I have had some regrets in life, maybe I can offer them up to you as advice! They’re quite simple:

·     Make your bed every morning, it’ll build consistency within your day. Trust me, we all need it.

·     If you like someone, tell them, don’t hold it in, there is nothing wrong with rejection, life goes on, but holding on to something you wanted to say or do will bring more pain than the rejection.

·     Travel when you can! Whether it is in the country or out the county, go places, experience life, build memories with loved ones and friends, make new memories to tell your kids, meet new people.

·     Love hard, I mean it, Love hard, find a good woman, like I found your Mother. If you can give her the world, and if you can’t, try.

·     Fail. I know it sounds weird, but failure can teach you more than winning can. When you fail you can take a step back and see where you went wrong, and then you try again, and again and again! Never give up!

·     And of course, take care of your mom! She Is the love of my life, my forever. It’s tough for me to say this, and I know it may be tough to understand, but when she’s ready, be there for her, let her know you support her in her decisions. I will always be there for you.

Do me a favor will ya, whenever you get the chance and when you’re older when the Eagles play, can you bring a bottle of scotch and your laptop, and watch the game with me, I always wanted to have a drink with my Son, I would like that. Matter of fact, in the garage in that storage place, there is a box with an old 1985 Macallan, I was saving it for a special occasion, I think that will suffice, our first drink together.

This letter has been the hardest thing I have ever done but I am glad I did, you will always be my Ace, watching you grow into a respectful, intelligent, and caring young man has been the highlight of my life.

I was afraid I wasn’t going to be successful as a Dad, but looking at you, I like to think I was pretty successful, don’t prove me wrong now! Hahaha Just playing, kiss your mom for me every night, and make her coffee every morning, she likes it with a teaspoon of sugar, a tablespoon of honey, and with vanilla almond milk. Measuring things are in the drawer by the dishwasher and stop eating the popsicles, you’re going to lose your teeth, maybe I should have stopped buying them, now that I think about it, hahaha.

Remember Son, keep fishing it’ll teach you plenty of life lessons, when you figure them out, tell me what you’ve learned. I love you, kid to the moon and back, and around the world.”

-Dad

Dennis was smiling, no tears this time, just heart filled with warmth, his Dad’s personality always bled through that letter, it gave him joy, a sense of pride, determination and an optimistic outlook on his and his Mother’s life, he was young but he understood life better than most his age, he didn’t understand all the happy emotions coursing through his body, but he was a kid he figured he didn’t have to just yet.

Dennis heard a honk coming from the back entrance, “Mom! I’m leaving, Aunt Kelsey is here!” he yelled from the door, “okay, give me a kiss!” she demanded. He went and kissed his Mother goodbye on the cheek, and she kissed him back, wiping her lipstick off his cheek she said, “I love you, to the moon and back.” Dennis replied, “And around the world.”