Blackberry Cobbler

By Melissa Mimi Ewell

Can One Day of Learning to Bake Blackberry Cobbler Change the Course of a Man's Life?

This appears to be the case when New York Corporate Attorney Jax Morrison IV, finds himself deep in the back woods of Mississippi to meet Mama Glory, the matriarch of his girlfriend Nina's family. Caught between his love for Nina and her strict family traditions, Jax ends up spending a day gaining a lifetime of wisdom through Mama Glory's eyes and her eighty plus years of living. As she recounts her family's history, their triumphs, tragedies and tales of survival in the Jim Crow south, Jax experiences a life-altering encounter that leaves him forever changed. The more Mama Glory's shares, secrets are revealed that will challenged everything Jax and Nina have believed about life, love, family and legacy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Written Works Publications
• Release date: Nov 14, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386014065

Melissa Mimi Ewell

Melissa Mimi Ewell is a wife, mother, minister, mentor and friend. As the founder and facilitator of This Woman's Heart Ministries and ManFast Ministries International, Mimi is a native of Los Angeles, California and had been blessed by God to minister on a worldwide platform. Mimi holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in Education from Southern University in Baton Rouge, Louisiana and has pursued graduated studies with the UCLA Anderson School of Business and the University of Phoenix.   As a celebrated author, her works inspires many to grow in faith and to pursue a lifestyle of purity, abstinence and fidelity as ordained by God. Mimi lives and travels abroad between Ghana, Kenya and South Africa, some of her favorite places on the planet.   To connect with Mimi and share your thoughts about Blackberry Cobbler visit - www.melissamimiewell.com   Other Titles by Melissa Mimi Ewell Marriage Chronicles: A Guide To A Resilient Marriage Trinity’s Hope Destiny’s Journey

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Melissa Mimi Ewell

Written Works Publications

Written Works Publications – Texas, USA

Copyright © 2018 by Melissa Mimi Ewell

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Cover Design: Gracefully Designed

ISBN: 9781386014065

First Printing: November 2018

Printed in the United States of America and the Republic of Ghana

This is a work of fiction loosely based on factual events. Any references or similarities to unrelated actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of familiarity and reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places and incidents is entirely coincidental.

Dedication

This novel is dedicated to all those who gave me my life, my legacy and my connections to my past. This novel is dedicated to my Lord, my ancestors and my present-day destiny helpers. Thank you for helping to build and maintain the foundations, the walls and the roof of my life. It’s because of you, that I’ve become who I am. Much Love and Many Thanks!

Acknowledgements

I want to acknowledge all those special people – encouragers, readers, editors, advisors, partners, supporters and friends, who helped in the creation and publications of this novel. All your contributions were invaluable to me.

I owe a special thanks to my friend and editor, the jelly to my peanut butter, Felecia Hunter-Burnett. I couldn’t have done this without you.

Preface

Let me tell you a true story...

In my 39th year of life, a strange series of events occurred that forever altered my life.

My paternal grandmother, Irene, who’d been a most beautiful, powerful influence in my life, had just passed away. In the process of writing her obituary, I was looking through her personal papers, when I came upon an old obituary that I recognized was in her handwriting.

It was the original obituary she’d written for her paternal grandmother, Easter.

As I read those words, blurred by my tears, I was startled to learn that Grandma Easter had died within days of my birth in June of 1963. That was a piece of my history that I’d never known until that very moment. Totally intrigued, I started comparing the dates, and I was further surprised to learn that the year my great-grandmother Easter died, was also my grandmother Irene’s 39th year of life.

"Wow... I thought. How uncanny is that?"

Irene was thirty-nine when she wrote her grandmother’s obituary, the same month I was born. Then, thirty-nine years later, I was thirty-nine and I was writing my grandmother’s obituary. How strange was that?

Growing up, I’d heard many stories about my great, great grandmother Easter. She was born in Lee County, Mississippi, the daughter of slaves and a woman with a huge personality. She had endured much hardship and loss in her life, during those post-slavery years and had become a woman of great strength, wisdom, tenacity, and fierceness. It’s been told that she was one hilarious chick, with a wicked sense of humor, who was afraid of nothing and no one. She was an amazing force of life and I’ve often felt cheated that I never had the pleasure of knowing her.

Looking back, I still remember the sense of destiny I felt in that moment, as I was holding that faded paper chronicling Easter’s life story in one hand and the legal pad where I was writing Irene’s story in the other hand.

I felt a shudder go through my body, as I realized, that while Grandma Easter and I had never met in life, our souls had passed through the doors of eternity around the same time. It was such a surreal experience, because just a few days earlier, I’d been laying in bed with Irene, sharing the pillow and holding her hand, as she slipped into glory, where Easter was waiting to welcome her. I imagined my grandmother, saying a tearful goodbye to her grandmother in the same way, thirty-nine years ago...

A few days after welcoming me into the world. I felt such a sense of divine recognition imprinted on my soul, as I thought about the passing of these two remarkable women through my life, from one dimension to the next, confirming the divine connection we all shared. Past, Present, Future.

Whew... That was a crazy intense moment. And it gets more intense...

A few days later, as I was looking through a drawer of old family photos, I came across a picture of my paternal great-grandmother, Maime, my grandfather’s mother. On the back of the photo was a scribbled note with her name and the date of her death – February 22nd. Strangely enough, February 22nd was the date of Irene’s recent passing. I was astounded when I realized this unusual occurrence and I suddenly felt the weight of something hit me, causing me to take a step back and I sunk into a nearby chair.

I stared at that date for several minutes, wondering if the women of my past were conspiring to get my attention. It seemed as if they were trying to get me to listen up, to pay attention and not let them get lost in the clutter of old photos and faded letters. It felt like these sisters were speaking, begging me not to forget them and not to let their identities fade away with each passing generation.

They were asking me to not let their strength and their courage be diminished by time, nor for their stories, our collective history as a family, to pass away with them. They were asking to be remembered, reminding me that their blood, their DNA was in me and that their lives all helped to define mine. They made up various parts of who I am, where I came from and what they had all given me to be successful and fulfill purpose going forward. I could not escape or deny that message. Nor could I ignore the reality that they were handing me the baton, the responsibility and the assignment to carry their legacy forward. As I let all that sink in, I made the decision, right then, to take up that baton and run with it. Little did I know how soon that commitment would be put to the test.

And there’s more....

As if to solidify that something was indeed going on, a letter arrived in the afternoon mail that very day. The letter was addressed to Irene and it was from my cousin’s son. He’d sent her an invitation to his upcoming college graduation. He was also looking for information on how he could connect with his father. He hadn’t heard from his father in several years and he wanted to know if my grandmother had an address where he could send him an invitation as well. 

He wrote, that while he did not know this side of his family well, he always appreciated how my grandmother would call from time to time, just to check on him. He thanked her for sending the birthday cards with the little change inside, and how much that meant to him. He said he was always grateful that she kept in touch and he wanted her, and his father, to be present to celebrate this proud achievement in his life.

Tears filled my eyes as I realized that the invitation had come too late for my grandmother to read these heartfelt words. It came too late for her to witness his graduation, which she would have never missed. I was also deeply saddened, as knew his father wouldn’t be there either. My cousin was incarcerated, and I knew that, because I’d just spoken with him a few days earlier, to give him the sad news of my grandmother’s passing.

It was a tough conversation I had with my cousin, as he tearfully talked about the regrets of his mistakes that were preventing him from being with his family during this time of grief. I could only imagine how hard he would take it, when he learned that those same consequences, would cause him to miss out on yet another important family milestone.

Nevertheless, I knew that I would be there at that graduation. Along with my father, my sister, brothers, and any other family members I could get the word to about this memorable event. I immediately picked up the phone and called my younger cousin to tell him about my grandmother, his father being incarcerated and to confirm that we would be there to celebrate with him. I then went back to that drawer of family photos and I put together a set of photos of his father’s side of his family tree. I framed them and presented it to him as a graduation gift.

Trust me, there was a lot of love and tears, on the day of his graduation as the generations of our family were proudly present and accounted for. Yes, we showed up for that young man that day, so he would experience the support of his family. Past, present and future. Thankfully, my sister is now the one who calls and checks on him from time to time, still maintaining the family bond to this day.

I knew that day, somewhere in the realm of the spirit, my grandmothers, great-grandmothers and all the ancestors before them, were smiling, assured that the family would stay connected and they would not be forgotten. Much of those connections are now taking place via social media, nevertheless, we’re keeping in touch.

Over the years, as I pondered these events, I tried to come up with a meaningful way to keep our family history alive and preserved for future generations. I didn’t just want to tell our family’s personal stories, even though that would be extremely important for us. But I believed it would be much more impactful to share some of the wisdom that our elders gained through their collective life experiences. It felt right to capture that part of our legacy and share those treasures with the world. This is where the concept of Blackberry Cobbler was born.

Although the story of Mama Glory and the Thurman Family is fictional, some of the incidents depicted in this novel were taken from real life, anecdotal stories and factual occurrences that took place in the lives of my family members.

In this way, Blackberry Cobbler is somewhat, loosely autobiographical. A story within a story, that’s deep, engaging, entertaining, thought-provoking, poignant and unforgettably life changing.

When I read through the pages of this novel, I’m hearing the voices of my people, whose words echo in the conversations between Mama Glory and Jax, and between Sylvester’s words and Nina’s pen. I am writing their words and sharing the memories that have been so valuable to the generations of my family. Gratefully, I know I’m doing my ancestors proud, as I’ve written their story for the generations to read, learn from and grow thereby.

In capturing and sharing the events of their lives, I’m amplifying their voices. I’m documenting how they learned to work within the oppressive, racist systems of the Jim Crow south and how they learned to make that system work for them. I’m passing along the intents of their hearts, such that we can benefit from all they endured and survived.

In telling this fictional story, based on real life events, I’m taking my place as the connection to the generations of many family - Past, present and future - to make sure the legacy of the past is not lost to future generations.

It’s my hope, that in taking the journey of this story, you’re inspired, and even provoked, to be the link from the past, the present and the future of your family tree.

Believe me... It’s been an awesome experience! Enjoy!

Mimi

One

"Continue East on US Highway 78 to exit...."

The drone-like voice of the GPS system was already grating on Jax’s nerves and they’d only been on the highway for fifteen minutes. This trip had not been his idea, but here he was, on the fourth leg of a journey from New York to Atlanta to Memphis by plane, then driving south into Mississippi, further south than he’d ever wanted to be. He was traveling to meet the matriarch of his girlfriend’s family, one of those many requirements that came along with falling in love with a true southern belle.

Stealing a quick glance in her direction, Nina was as beautiful and poised as ever. Just as gorgeous today, as the night he first laid eyes on her across the room at that party. That was a moment he would never forget. When he saw her smile and heard her laughter, everything and everyone else in the room faded away. In an instant, his one and only goal that night, had become connecting with this beautiful creature who had taken his breath away. Thinking back to that night, he absently reached for her hand; needing to touch her as often as he could. She was just that precious to him.

She gave his hand a light squeeze and continued gazing out the passenger-side window, fingering the small silver cross she always wore around her neck. While trying to keep an eye on the road, Jax couldn’t help but let his eyes drift over to admire her – and what a stunning sight she was. He loved how the soft folds of her white cotton blouse, revealed the delicate bone structure of her neckline, and the way her light blue skirt hugged those long shapely legs. True to her fashion acumen, she wore a pair of strappy sandals that were the same shade of her skirt. From her soft, slender feet that he loved to feel rubbing against his legs, to the top of the natural curls framing her face, he found her so appealing. He could stare at her for hours, taking in her dark brown eyes that were as warm as her shy smile.

In his eyes, Nina was a flawless beauty with classic elegance and impeccable manners. Jax could only describe her with one word... Irresistible. From their first conversation, she had captured his heart and he knew within days, that she was his forever after. She was the love of his life and he was intent on making her his wife. For that honorable privilege, she had him jumping through all kind of hoops. This trip to Mississippi to meet her grandmother was just the latest.

Whew... Jax released a heavy sigh as that thought snapped him back to reality. His stomach tightened, his nerves were seriously on edge as he absently stroked the waves that hugged the back of his head.

It’ll be fine, Baby, Nina purred as only she could, running her tender hand along his forearm, a comforting touch indeed.

Yeah... Jax half-growled, You keep saying that, but what if your grandmother hates me?

She won’t. Nina assured him. She likes geeky guys like you.

I’m not geeky, he gave her the side eyes.

She rolled her eye over at him, giving him a knowing glance. Yes, you are. But you have nothing to worry about. You two will get along famously.

But you told me that the two of you have had your share of disagreements. What makes you think if she has issues with you, that she’ll be open to accepting me?

This is different, she pulled her hand away, folding her arms across her chest.

How is it different, Nina? The way you describe this thing, if she doesn’t like me, she can make you call this whole marriage thing off. After all we’ve been through, that just doesn’t seem fair to me.

Nina closed her eyes, shaking her head. "I never said she could make me do anything. I’m grown and I can make my own decisions."

Then why are we doing this? Why are we giving this one person, so much power over our future?

She released a weighty sigh then shifted around to face him. I understand how you feel, Jax, but this is a family tradition. We always bring a potential spouse home to meet the elders to include them in this process. Bringing you to meet Mama Glory is a sign of respect and that’s important to me. And even with our differences of opinion, she’s still very important to me.

His pride slightly stinging, Jax glanced out his window, grumbling under his breath. I thought I was important to you.

You are, Babe. Nina leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder. And I really appreciate you doing this for me. I know it’s a sacrifice.

You got that right, Jax retorted. Coming all the way out here to... to... what is this place called again?

Waterford.

Waterford... Hmph, Jax threw her an overexaggerated nod. All the way out here in the middle of nowhere. Doggone backwoods of Mississippi, of all places.

I can’t help where I came from, she nudged her shoulder against him. Besides, these backwoods are my roots and you need to see where I grew up to truly understand me. You need to be around my family to understand why I am, the way I am, about certain things.

I know, Jax brushed his chin on her forehead. You know I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t love you, woman.

Awww... Nina reached up stroked his cheek. I love you, too. And I promise I’ll make it up to you. On our wedding night.

You better. Jax turned just enough to look into her pretty brown eyes and couldn’t suppress the smile that she could so easily pull out of him.

Don’t worry. I got you, Baby. Nina let out the lightest chuckle.

See, you laughing, Jax scowled, But this is not funny, Nina. I need to be charging you for my time. Do you have any idea how much this little excursion is costing me in billable hours? And you wouldn’t even let me bring my files so at least I could get some work done.

Absolutely not! Nina sat up in protest. This is going to be an enjoyable family weekend and I will not have you distracted by work. I know you love your job, but there are times you need to get away from the city and clear your mind so you can relax. Being out here on the Thurman Farm is just the perfect place to do that. Now, I want you to focus on having a good time. Okay?

Okay, Jax relented. "I just haven’t ever been this far south before and most definitely not this deep into the country. Probably can’t even get phone service out here."

Oh, stop now. Nina gave him a punch in the arm. This is not the nineteen twenties. People out here actually have indoor toilets, running water and cable TV. Trust me, they’re doing alright up in these back woods.

I bet we get here and pull up to one of those mobile home trailers.

Nina cast him a smirk behind that remark. "Really Jax?! You been watching too much reality TV. My family has always lived in nice homes, owned their own property and businesses. The Thurman Farm has been in Mama Glory’s family since 1910. So, we not no trailer trash, I’ll have you know!" 

What? Jax threw his head back and laughed. Is that the high-powered New York editor using a double negative in a sentence? I think that’s the country girl coming out in you.

Well you know what they say, Nina tossed her head in his direction, You can take the girl outta the country, but you can’t take the country outta the girl!

Then I guess I’ll be seeing the country side of you when we get down here ‘round yo’ peoples. This should be interesting.

Oh Baby, you’re in for a real eye-popping experience! My grandmother is something else. She’s practically a walking encyclopedia, especially when it comes to blackberries.

Right... Jax nodded. You did say she can make a mean blackberry cobbler. I’m ready to taste some of that!

Oh, you’re not just going to taste it. Mama Glory is going to teach you to bake it! From scratch.

Aw naw, Jax rocked his head back and forth. I told you, Nina, baking is not my forte. Matter of fact, I’ve never baked anything from scratch in my life. I don’t want to embarrass myself.

"Well, get yourself together because Mama Glory is not going to take no for an answer! Every man, who ever thought about marrying into this family, has had to spend a day picking blackberries and making cobbler with Mama Glory. She’s the head of the family and either you respect her wishes on this or you’re gonna have a problem. I’m just telling you like it is. It’s tradition."

Uggh! Tradition! Jax banged the steering wheel with his hand. "That’s all I’ve been hearing for the last month, ever since we seriously started talking about getting married. You act like these traditions are more important than us! More important than all the good things we’ve shared these last nine months."

But I didn’t just start talking about my family traditions! I’ve been telling you about this from the beginning. It’s not my fault that you’re letting your fears and insecurities get the better of you. And it’s not fair for you to take it out on me, just because you’re scared.

"Who said I was scared?! I ain’t scared of your grandmother! And I’m not taking anything out on you. I’m simply stating my case and lodging my objection to this... this archaic way of doing things!"

Oh, come on, Counselor! Nina folded her arms in a huff. This is not a court case. This is the rest of our lives. If you want this marriage to start off on the right foot, then you need to respect the way my family does things.

In one thousand feet, merge right to exit onto Mississippi County Road...

Aw man, Jax moaned as he maneuvered through the traffic to get into the exit lane. I’m about to miss this exit fussing with you.

Then quit fussing and drive!

Jax sunk down in the seat and folded his lips together to stem the flow of words that were sure to get him into even more trouble if he kept it up. He knew Nina was right. Meeting her family shouldn’t be an issue, but he was letting it get under his skin and that irritation was directed at her. He was freaking out. He was being cranky, and that wasn’t her fault.

To her credit, she didn’t bash him. That’s because she wore patience like a diamond encrusted crown and she let him get away with so much, when there were times he deserved a good dressing down. Suddenly feeling like a major jerk, Jax could only look within and pray for God to help him get through this weekend with his dignity and his relationship intact.

As the miles flew by they rode in silence and Jax took that time to get honest with himself. He had to admit that the real reason he was stressing so badly was because his biggest fear was staring him right in the face.

What if Mama Glory was able see right through his exterior swag and professional polish to see the real person? What if she asked too many questions about his family’s track record with marriage? What if she dug too deep and forced him to reveal some of the darker secrets and skeletons that were packed in all of the closets? He didn’t want to lie or try to hide the truth because integrity was important to him and he wanted the foundation of their marriage to be based on truth, not dishonesty. But what if she had serious doubts about him and then convinced Nina that he really wasn’t good enough for her?

Yet, at times like this, when he got irritated with her and showed his behind, Jax couldn’t deny that toxic masculinity was present in him, because he learned it from watching his father all his life. As much as he hated being rude and dismissive, he sometimes found himself drifting into that same pattern of behavior and it was nothing to be proud of.

Deep down, he knew he had to do better by her than the other men in his family had treated their women. And he knew he had to figure out how, so he wouldn’t end up making her miserable. He never wanted to see the day that she regretted giving him a chance to love her and cover her.

"Oh Lord, Jax prayed within his heart, Please help me to calm down and trust you. I know I’m not all that and you know the kind of junk I’m working with. The last thing I want to do is let Nina down and embarrass her in front of her family. Help me, Lord to keep it together."

The silence lingered between them as the highway stretched in front of them. Jax and Nina were lost in their thoughts, only passing a few comments as he steered the SUV through the tiny township of Waterford, Mississippi. They passed the tire store, the feed store, the gas station convenience store, and the one fast food place in town, all without stopping.

That’s when it occurred to him that Waterford wasn’t even big enough for a stop sign. Continuing west, they passed an assortment of houses, ranging from mobile homes, to leaning shacks, to brick ranches to a couple of new builds, scattered along Rural Route Seven. As he took in the picture of the small southern town, Jax resisted the urge to rank on this place that seemed lost in time. Instead, he held his tongue for the sake of peace and followed Nina’s directions.

You see that sign up there on the left? That’s our turn.

Jax slowed to make the turn from the highway onto the private road marked by a wrought iron sign that read, The Thurman Farm.

Moving from the asphalt highway to the gravel road, Jax was not liking the sound or the feel of the gravel crunching beneath the tires. The last thing he wanted was a punctured tire. It was way too hot to be out in this heat trying to fix a flat.

Are you sure you know where we’re going?

Yes Baby, I’m certain, Nina assured. I know these roads like the back of my hand. It’s just up this way about another four miles. We’re almost there.

Jax bristled as they rumbled over the gravel road, nearly covered up in some places by the overgrowth of trees and undergrowth of shrubs. Curving one way then the other, the dense secluded road made Jax glad that he wasn’t out here in the dead of night, trying to find his way around.

How could you even find your way through all this thicket at night? And why don’t they pave the roads back in here?

Mama Glory is not too keen on people using this road to get to the house. She wants people to use the main entrance over on the business side.

Shooting her the side eye, Jax tossed back, Then we should’ve gone that way. This place gives me the creeps. Makes me think about nightriders and strange fruit swinging from the trees.

"No more than the NYPD and their choke holds, so don’t try to make racism a southern thing."

Uggh... Jax let out a long sigh, This is gonna be a long weekend.

Just try to relax. Nina reached over to give his neck a massage. It’s going to be fine.

I hope so, Jax moaned rolling his head under Nina’s tender touch.

The road then took a dip, crossing over a small creek and up a slight ridge, ushering them into clearing that was lined with massive oak trees, dripping with Spanish moss. As the narrow gravel road gave way to a tree-lined drive, Jax was not at all expecting to see the view that unfolded before them.

Wow, Jax uttered as they drove under the canopy of trees, toward a white columned, stately home, that seemingly rose up from the woods and stood there impressively, like it owned the land. Now this... Is amazing!

It’s still so lovely. Nina nearly whispered, touching a hand to her chest. I have so missed this place.

Jax parked and turned off the engine, then shook his finger toward the beautiful home.

Are you telling me that this is your grandmother’s house?

Yes, Baby, Nina tapped her fingers on his hand. This is The Thurman House. I told you we wasn’t no trailer trash.

You ain’t neveh lied! He chuckled. This house is magnificent! It looks like one of those historic homes featured on the cover of House and Garden magazine.

I tried to tell you, she chuckled, Antebellum Greek Revival at its finest. Corinthian columns, sweeping porches and with two porch swings to boot. The finest in plantation living.

Plantation? This was once owned by white folks?

Yes, sir. Nina nodded. "My ancestors were once slaves on