The main room of the Perry home was small and full. A bed sat in a corner, a fireplace was on one side, and a long table took up the middle. A bench was on either side of the table, and a chair was at each end. The table was laden with food—butter beans with crowder peas and rice, biscuits and corn bread, fried chicken and beef spareribs in gravy, plus pickled preserves of onions, tomatoes, and cucumbers. There were vinegar beets too. It was a grand spread of food and hardly looked like the table of a sharecropper’s family. Both Callie and Caroline were busy circling the table pouring tall glasses of cold buttermilk as Sam Perry continued to make me welcome, and there was even hot coffee poured for Mister Perry and me. Sam Perry smiled with pride as he gazed down the table to where I was seated at the other end, and I had the feeling he had read my mind. “You know it taste even better’n it look,” he said. Then he let out a loud holler. “Rachel! Rachel! Where you at? Come on now! Come on in here, sugar, so’s we can thank the Lord and show Him how much we thanks Him for His good food!” He then turned to the rest of the Perrys. “All y’all old ’nough t’ sit with company, find yo’selves a seat. Rest of y’all stand back for prayer, and then yo’ mama and yo’ sisters’ll see t’ yo’ plates.”
Caroline and Callie, along with Nathan and the older brothers still living at home, and the two married children with their spouses, all took seats at the table. But Sam Perry’s wife had not come in, and Sam Perry called to her once more. When Miz Perry still did not appear, he turned to Nathan. “Boy, go get yo’ mama and tell her we waitin’ on her! Tell her not t’ be stayin’ off in that kitchen all through this dinner. We wants her here at the table.”
Nathan hurriedly carried out his father’s command. He returned shortly, followed by his mother carrying one last dish, which she placed on the table. Then she put her hands on her hips and stared down at her massive husband. “What you doin’ wit’ all that hollerin’ at me, Sam Perry?” she fussed. “I come when I got all my food ready. Ya knows that!”
“Wanted you t’ meet our company, Miz Perry,” said Sam Perry in explanation. “This here’s Mister Paul Logan from outa Vicksburg. I told you ’bout him.”
I stood as Miz Rachel Perry seemed to take note of me for the first time. “Miz Perry,” I said in greeting, “I thank you for having me to your home. You’ve certainly prepared a beautiful dinner here.”
Miz Perry said nothing. She just stared at me while I stood awkwardly waiting for some response. Rachel Perry was a small woman, not at all like her husband in stature. She was a good-looking woman too, pale in coloring, but weary-looking. There seemed to be no laughter in her.
“Mama?” said Caroline, and Rachel Perry finally gave me a stiff nod in return for my words.
“Go on have a seat there, Mister Logan,” said Sam Perry, offering no apology for his wife’s cold greeting, “and let’s join hands in prayer.” He stretched out long arms and grasped the hands of his children on either side of him, and all at the table grasped the hands beside them. I did the same.
After the blessing was asked, all the women, including Caroline, rose from the table and took the children with them to prepare their plates in the kitchen. After some time Caroline and Callie, along with Risten and their sister-in-law, returned. The children, they said, were eating on the porch. Rachel Perry too returned, but she didn’t sit down. She refilled dishes throughout the meal, but she never looked once at me.
Despite that and the uneasiness I felt at Rachel Perry’s attitude, I still found that I was enjoying myself. As Sam Perry had said, his wife was an excellent cook, and he hadn’t exaggerated that point. I hadn’t tasted food like what was spread on that table since my mama’s own good cooking. The main meal filled me up, but when the layered pecan cake and the sweet-potato pies were brought to the table, I couldn’t say no. In addition to all the good food was the warmth of being with a family. Throughout the meal Sam Perry, his sons, and his daughters kept up a lively conversation punched by laughter and good-natured teasing, and at the end of the meal we all sat for a while longer as Sam Perry told stories. When the children had finished their meals on the porch, they ran in and out and gathered close, and I felt the warm circle of family. But eventually Miz Rachel Perry appeared and announced, “If y’all finished, then I gots t’ get this table cleared and this food left over put away. Caroline, Callie, Risten, y’all give me a hand.”