The Slave Master's Son (29 page)

“This isn’t my store. The owner has went down a block to the bank and entrusted me to keep watch while I shop. I’d be obliged to show you my favorite sewing machine which I personally feel is befitting a seasoned seamstress,” Hannah offered. Opal burst out laughing and slapped her knee. Hannah raised her eyebrow, straightened her back then sighed.

“Is it my voice?” Hannah asked with an all-knowing demeanor and tone.

“Yes! Please excuse me, dear woman. I
don’t
laugh in jest or fun. I laugh because it’s simply magnificent. I had a friend many years ago who carried the same inflections, and she’s now gone away, so it soothes and warms my heart to hear such sweetness and divinity,” Opal explained. Hannah nodded, smiling approvingly as she led Opal to the Kimball and Morton sewing machine having ornate silver craftsmanship.

“This is the lion design. It’s a very nice table – pedestal, if you will.” Opal looked at the price tag.

“Costly too, though I wouldn’t mind the possibility of such a splurge seeing as how kind and devoted she is. I’ll admit, though, I’m missing a favorite necklace which she denies putting her fingers upon, but without proof I’m unable to denounce her as the culprit,” Opal said with a hearty laugh.

“And how amazing is the lion body,” Opal added as she studied the machine. “It looks more like a centerpiece than a sewing machine – truly gorgeous.”

“Yes, it is, but I must say, for professional craftsmanship without as many troubles, I recommend this simple, but well-crafted Singer. I
don’t
imagine that your maid would do anything regarding navy needs, but this machine’s so proficient that it’s often used
for tackling sails on ships.”

“And the price is less exorbitant,” Opal said mildly. “I kindly thank you for your assistance.” Opal looked at Hannah, waiting.

“Hannah. My name’s Hannah Stewart,” Hannah smiled.

“You have a beautiful smile,” Opal said as she removed her hat, allowing a mountain of dark swirls to tumble down her shoulders. Hannah then watched as Opal moved her nimble fingers diligently, twirling her hair back into place and putting her hat back on.

“It was getting a bit warm,” Opal exclaimed. “I also felt a few of the hair pins causing me discomfort,” she laughed.

“I’m getting ready to depart,” Hannah said courteously as she gathered her fabrics. “Before I go, I’ll leave the owner a note that you wish to buy the Singer, and you can write your address down for the delivery location.” Opal nodded in agreement and filled out the piece of paper that Hannah handed to her. The two ladies walked shoulder-to-shoulder out the store.

“Hannah,” Opal said turning to her suddenly. “Would you like to come over for tea or dinner? I think you’re just divine. I’d also love to see some of your work someday. My husband has accused me of an addiction to fine linens. I must admit he’s correct. Your dress is wonderfully beautiful. I assume that it’s your handiwork?” Opal asked admiringly. Hannah looked down and smiled coyly.

“Why yes, it is. I’d love to come by for tea. I do have a husband, infant son, and orders to fill, however,” Hannah explained.

“Not a problem – bring your son and husband if he’s not detained. I’d love to see you this evening should you have the time,” Opal invited. Hannah nodded in agreement.

“Bring a couple of the dresses you’ve sewn if you don’t mind obliging me. I’ll let our cook know two, possibly three others will be joining us this evening for supper.” Opal proceeded to inform Hannah of her address.

* * *

Hannah squealed with laughter. The cigar smoke circled through the air while Jonathan ran back and forth clumsily on his thick, golden legs chasing after a small cat living in the Alexander parlor.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever had veal before. It was delicious, Opal,” Hannah exclaimed as she waved happily to the maid and Opal’s cook. They both nodded in appreciation.

“You know, Hannah,” Opal said as she refreshed her wine glass, “you have gorgeous hair. You shouldn’t hide it in that bun all the time.” Opal flashed a smile.

“It’s troublesome,” Hannah blushed.

“Never mind all of that, you should wear you hair down. You have beautiful hair,” she said appreciatively as she stared at Hannah’s thick coils.

“Not like yours – you can get a comb through yours easy as noodles,” Hannah grinned.

“It’s not all that it’s cracked up to be,” Opal said loudly as she flung a loose strand out from her face. “I wonder where my husband is at. He’s always late!” she barked while the two ladies made their way to the front porch. Opal’s super-tight corset caused her to barely be able to breathe.

“Back to you, how far along are you? I just happened to look down and see your stomach all poked out,” Opal laughed.

“I reckon about four-and-a-half months,” Hannah responded. “I hope it’s a little girl. I always wanted a little girl,” Hannah gleamed. Opal nodded.

“That boy of yours is so handsome. He’s going to grow up and be a real charmer.” Opal’s husband pulled up in his wagon. He quickly hopped out and rushed to his wife’s side.

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart,” he said with a bright smile. “I couldn’t join you and you’re friend for dinner. I had too many tasks to count today,” he said with exasperation. Hannah looked at Mr. Alexander and smiled. She was pleasantly surprised to see that he was just as pale as John. He was dashingly handsome, just like John, only he had salt-and-pepper hair and vibrant, sparkling amber brown eyes. Vincent Alexander owned several properties that he rented out to various high class tenants. He met Opal in an unsavory part of town while scouting real estate options. Opal, the color of cinnamon with a mild sprinkling of rouge, was wearing very unladylike digs. She never confirmed whether she was prostituting or not, but after Vincent spent one evening with her, they were inseparable. Opal’s uncommon beauty caught the eye of everyone. She, however, seemed oblivious to it.

“Vincent, let’s give Hannah a ride home, please,” Opal said impatiently. Vincent nodded as Hannah stepped into the wagon.

 “Come on, Jonathan. We’re going home.” Hannah took her son’s tiny hand.

“Home, Mama!” he repeated.

“Yes, that’s right,” Hannah said as she helped him onto the seat. When they arrived, Opal walked Hannah to her door.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that Opal, we’re right here,” Hannah explained.

“That’s fine, Honey. Besides, I need a glass of water. Vincent, I’ll be back in a moment,” Opal yelled loudly, placing her hand on her long, narrow hip. Hannah smiled at Opal’s lack of inhibitions. Opal walked inside and looked around.

“This is nice, Hannah,” Opal said as she sashayed across the shiny wooden floor towards the living room.

“Thank you.” Hannah walked into her kitchen and poured them both a glass of water, adding a firm slice of chilled peach in both glasses. Just then, John walked into the room. He nodded at Opal, then approached Hannah, embracing her around the waist and kissing her softly. Opal could barely hear their brief small-talk as Hannah explained who she was.

“Here you are,” Hannah said. Jonathan walked past giggling as he chased a runaway ball.

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Alexander,” John said as he slowly made his way across the room. “It appears in this brief duration you’ve made quite an impact on my wife. She’s a good judge of character, so any friend of hers is certainly a friend of mine.” He reached for her hand, kissed it then turned back to Hannah, winked, and smiled. Hannah blushed. John stood back and looked at his wife. She felt the warmth of his glare. He swooped Jonathan into the air, causing the little one to cry out in glee. Opal and Hannah laughed as he proceeded to tickle his son and pinch his cheek. He returned Jonathan to the floor, roughed up his hair, and made his way across the room between them.

“Ladies, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going upstairs. Again, Mrs. Alexander, it was a pleasure to meet you, and I declare that in the near future Mr. Alexander and I shall share some recreational time together, perhaps a nice beverage,” John smiled.

“I’m certain he’d be honored,” Opal grinned. Both ladies watched as John disappeared up the steps, finally closing the master bedroom door behind him.

“You’re so lucky, Hannah.” Opal put her hand on her hip again and exhaled as she held her glass, allowing the thick, uneven chunks of clear ice to clink together and submerge the fleshy fruit.

“I’d like to think so. I’m very happy about the clothing selling so well and the new baby.”

“Not just that,” corrected Opal. “You have John,” Opal said breathlessly.

“Well, you have Vincent,” Hannah said as she took a seat, sipping on her own glass of water. “He seems well put-together,” Hannah added. Opal rolled her eyes.

“Vincent’s grand,
don’t
get me wrong, but he does not adore me like John does you. I see the way your husband looks at you. You can tell he just…” Opal closed her eyes and smiled. She looked away breathlessly, pausing.

“He just looks like each of his breaths are tied to yours. I’d love to have a man look at me like that. I’m glad that you have it, Honey. It’s nice to see that true love really does exist,” Opal daydreamed.

“But don’t you love Vincent? Do you not believe he desires you?” asked Hannah as she finished her water.

“I know that he does. I, in turn, do love him. I surely do. It’s a different type of love, though, Hannah. I needed a place to stay and someone to take care of me. He needed someone that excited him and kept his bed warm. Vincent likes to live life on the edge. He’s a bit of an eccentric. It was no surprise to his wealthy family that he’d run off with a Negro girl. I suppose that’s one good thing. We have no problems from his family whatsoever. I’m just one of his many exploits, though he states he’ll endure with me forever. He’s what I need right now.” Hannah smiled nervously and leaned in closer to Opal. She looked at Opal’s face, taking in the delicate upward curve of her nose, her flowing rich hair that poured from her hat earlier in the day, and the natural ruby color of her high cheeks.

“Opal, I’m not a sophisticated girl. I can say, though, that you can get a man to love you like John loves me. You can if you think that Mr. Alexander doesn’t loves you.” Hannah tapped Opal’s hand with hers. Opal smiled appreciatively and stood up.

“It’s not that simple, Hannah. I wish it were, but it’s not.” Opal slid her gloves back on.

“Well, Honey, I refuse to take up one more second of your time. Let me know when I can pick up that dress when you’ve completed it. I can’t wait to try it on!” Opal quickly dabbed a tear from her eye and sprinted towards the front door as she disappeared into the night.

* * *

Opal and Hannah’s relationship grew to the point where they spent countless time together. Opal was very knowledgeable about the neighborhood. She schooled Hannah on which people to avoid such as the born-free Blacks, including herself. She had the latest gossip and knew where to get the best deals on bread and pastries. One day while sitting together in the park eating sliced ham and crackers, Hannah, with her mouth full and her stomach moving ever so slightly, looked at Opal intensely and asked a question that had been on her mind for weeks.

“Opal, why have you never had children?” Hannah rubbed her stomach and watched Jonathan sit close by her foot playing with a collection of rocks he’d gathered. Opal swallowed her food, took a swallow of her soda water, and mulled over the question introspectively before answering.

“My dear Hannah, the concern of motherhood isn’t the desire of all women. However, I must admit that even though I find the thought of such an occurrence personally intimidating, I had no grievance with fulfilling such a venture, especially upon being asked from Mr. Alexander who would’ve appreciated an heir. The fact remains that I undoubtedly have no distress of being with child, from an anatomical perspective. It just appears that keeping that status continues to elude me.” Opal’s face saddened. Hannah nodded her head in understanding.