Four of a Kind: A women's historical fiction (39 page)

BOOK: Four of a Kind: A women's historical fiction
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“Daddy’ll never agree to me leaving home. He needs me too bad.”

“How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“Then he can’t keep you here against your will. You’re a grown woman now. You certainly are doing the work of a woman. Isn’t there someone else who can take over? One of the boys?”

“I do woman’s work, so the boys won’t do it. Elsie Price said she would, if we need her. She just lives down the holler from us. The church ladies said they’d take turns coming in too, but we never
asked them before. But even if they did, it don’t matter because somebody needs to be here all the time to cook the three meals and feed the chickens and haul in the water and wash the clothes.”

“We’ll talk to him together and see if he has any suggestions. Do we have a deal?” I walked over and extended my hand to her.

She shook it hard, her eyes set on determined. “A deal.”

The boys were walking in from the field by then and Mary Sue carried the now-sleeping toddler into the house to “set the table”.

Jere saw me and slowed his pace. “Boys go on around back and wash up. I’ll be in directly.” He wiped his face with the bandana tied loosely around his neck. Strands of hair had come undone from his pony tail and stuck to his face and neck. “Bess, this is a surprise.”

“I had no other way of contacting you.”

“No, I suppose not, although we do get letters in these here parts, believe it or not.”

I held up the envelope. “I thought best to meet with you.”

“Well, this sounds like official business, not a social call. Mary Sue?” he called through the screen door. “Fetch us two cold glasses of milk.” He sat in the swing and focused his deep blue eyes on me. His dirty white undershirt and dusty denim trousers did not detract from his graceful yet muscular way of moving. He had thick legs and thick arms, but a narrow waist.

“Feels good to sit,” he said. “I’m trying to work while the weather’s good but I don’t think days like today are meant for work. We’re meant to pray that hell’s heat hasn’t risen.”

He raised the palms of his callused hands to me, dirt in every crease. “I’d give you a hug or shake your hand but I’m too sweaty. You wouldn’t like it.” He wiped them on his trouser legs.

I heard a hint of irritation in his voice so I decided not to dillydally. “I understand, Jere. I won’t stay long. I’m here to ask you to sign this declaration of annulment. The annulment will separate us legally. It means that because we did not—”

“I know what it means,” he said. He stared at the floor beyond his feet. “Are you sure you want the stigma of divorce on your record? I don’t think I do.”

“An annulment says the marriage never happened in the eyes of the law, so there’s no divorce. That’s the way I see it, too.”

“That’s not the way I remembered it. We still said our vows.”

Mary Sue came out with milk-filled canning jars and handed each of us one. She sat next to Jere, her hands under her legs as if to keep them still.

“Daddy, Bess and I had a real nice talk. She still wants to be part of the family. She wants to help us.”

He raised his eyebrows to her. “What do you know, little missy?”

“She wants to teach me how to read and write and then I can teach my brothers and sisters.”

His gaze turned to me. “Bribery, huh?”

“No, that’s not how this started, but I suppose it is a sort of trade-off. Mary Sue and I made a bargain.”

“Why is this so important to you, Bess? Are you wanting to marry another man?”

This was the question I dreaded and had tossed around in my mind for days. If I told him yes, he might not sign for spite. If I told him no, he might have reason to delay his signature. For sake of argument, I decided to go somewhere in-between.

“I hope to get married some day. But as long as I’m legally married … well, really Jere, doesn’t it look worse to be married but not live together, than it does to just admit our mistake and move on with our lives? And to prove to you I’m not a total write-off, I want to help your daughter.” I paused here, desperate for some solution, some compromise that would make this work. Could I take her back with me? I could send her to school from the Lighthouse. We had plenty of room. Besides, I admittedly relished the thought of taking Mary Sue out of these woods and educating her into my own creation of a fine intelligent woman. She had the longing for learning; I could see it in her eyes.

“I propose that I take Mary Sue back to Annan with me and I’ll send her to school there.”

“No,” he said. He locked his arms across his chest.

“She can live with me at the Lighthouse. I’ll take good care of her.”

“No, I said. I need her here.” His stone countenance irritated me. I could be callous too, I thought as my will to debate rose within me.

“Oh yes, you need her here alright, to be your slave, to cook and clean for you. You, who spoke out in many a women’s conference. You who said women should be treated equally and have a vote and a right to say what they need in their lives. Mrs. Catt said you spoke beautifully. Why do you preach but not let one of your own practice it?”

“Bess, I ask no more from Mary Sue than I do from the rest of my younguns. That’s not why I want her here. My Cherokee mother only had boys and she taught us all how to cook and clean. I can do that myself if I have to.”

Mary Sue placed her hand on his arm. “Daddy, I’ve worked hard for you, now let me go and do something for me. And sign that paper and let Bess go. You hang on to things you don’t even need. You just don’t like letting go is all. You all will be fine and then when I come back, I can pass my learning on down. We can’t stay ignorant, Daddy.”

Well said, little missy, I thought as I watched him struggle with his emotions. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, tapping on the arm of the swing with his knuckles.

“I suppose you’ll be wanting to take her back with you today?” It was more a statement than a question.

“That would be easiest. My driver is waiting for me in the car.”

“Well, bring him in for supper. She’s not leaving on an empty stomach. It won’t take her long to pack. She’s your sheep now, I’ll let you wool it.”

He walked past me to the screen door without meeting my eyes, his face blank, but his shoulders drooped in defeat. He must hate me by now, I thought, wincing as the screen door slapped shut behind him. I’ve given him nothing but I’ve taken a great deal away.

Mary Sue smiled the first smile I’d seen on her, timid and shaky as if her mouth muscles were out of practice and couldn’t quite lift. “We all will be just fine,” she said in that soft southern drawl of hers.

I had no doubt that she at least would be. I had doubts about me.

I’d brought on more than I bargained for. I hadn’t thought things through clearly, so desperate was I to get that annulment signed. Mary Sue was far behind in education for her age, so the school principal recommended fulltime tutoring until January’s new term. They would test her then for possible enrollment in seventh grade. I was responsible for getting her up to that level before then.

When I told Thomas about this though, he could not see the tremendous burden I had taken on. “Good girl, Bess. You’ve never been responsible for someone else before. You may learn as much as this little girl does.” He closed the door to his office and took me into his arms. “You’re a very good girl indeed,” he said, his tone as soft as his gaze. His head dipped and his lips pressed mine gently. I blinked in wonder and saw his eyes were wide open as well. He backed away an inch and I reached for more, letting my lashes flutter closed, only wanting to feel him, touch him. The kiss lingered longer, me savoring the flavor as I would with ice cream. My fingertips traced his cheeks and jawbone and were lost in his thick hair. When he heard the soft moan, he pulled away. He squeezed my shoulders and returned my questioning gaze with heavy-lidded eyes, their green depths warm as summer grass. “As soon as that Tennessee lawyer calls and says we’re clear, we’re getting married. Or else I’m going to make a bad girl out of you.”

At that moment, I had no objection either way. I held true love and I now understood its meaning. To long for someone physically, well, I didn’t know this could be possible with Thomas but here I stood hungering for more of his lips.

“Kiss me again and I might marry you,” I said.

He grinned and gave me a light peck. “Oh, you’ll marry me. You have to. I’m the boss and you have to do what I tell you.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, batting my eyes, not the least bit irritated by his advantage. He squeezed my shoulders again and returned to his desk. “Besides,” I continued in that sweet little girl tone, “I’d like to see more of those burning eyes and flushing cheeks. They’re far more interesting than that business mask you just put back on.”

He let out a short laugh but picked up a stack of papers in spite of me. “I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, stop flirting with me. It’s distracting and we have a day’s work to do.”

He put his spectacles on the end of his nose and sat still for a moment. “Tell you what I want you to do.” He pulled some papers out of his stack and handed them to me. “Take these company requests for advertisements and write them from the Lighthouse. From now until Mary Sue starts to school in January, work from there. You’ll have a full day teaching her as it is. Do your newspaper work while she is studying.”

He opened a file folder and began reading. I remained in place, in a state of disbelief. He finally glanced up and must’ve read the hurt look on my face at such a dismissal. He sighed. “Bess, it’s only temporary. It will work out best for all of us. Tell Lizzie to pull out my wife’s old school textbooks. She taught the same elementary years and reading, writing, and arithmetic haven’t changed. Remember: teach, don’t preach, so save women’s rights for last, if you can. I’ll come over for dinner tonight and meet your little scholar.”

Thomas returned to his papers and I walked out, feeling rejected. I would miss the harried newspaper deadlines and political discussions on his upcoming election. I had hoped I added more value to the workplace than this. I shook it off, feeling particularly sensitive to Thomas nowadays. Didn’t he understand that I’d not only follow him anywhere, but I wanted to be beside him, under him, one with him? Mate and have children, if children were what he wanted. I was his - I could only hope he would treat my enlarged heart with care.

Without a smile, Mary Sue made a place for me beside her on the front porch step, tucking her thin cotton dress around her legs. She jerked her chin toward our colored gardener, Eddie. “If your nigger’d mixed wood ash with manure he’d get prettier blooms.”

Eddie was the house gardener for as long as I’d been around here. According to Thomas, he worked for “peanuts”, just wanting a little extra money for doing something he loved. He looked older than dirt but he said gardening kept him going. Lizzie said “thank God” for him, because her slave days hadn’t trained her to work outside. She’d been an inside darkie as a youth, many years ago.

“Eddie does what he can with what he knows,” I said. “There’s at least an acre here that must be mowed and trimmed. Any blooms are a blessing. This estate is certainly not like it used to be - flowers, rose bushes, rock gardens - but he can only keep up to a few nowadays.” I patted her knee. “How are you today? Sorry I couldn’t join you for breakfast on your first day here, but I met with your school principal and then went to the newspaper office to pick up some work.”

Mary Sue remained quiet with her chin on her hand, gazing out with misty light blue eyes. “I’m homesick.”

With hesitance, I placed my arm around her shoulders. She didn’t tense so I relaxed a little. “You haven’t been away from home before, have you?” I figured as much when she said her goodbyes to her daddy and siblings. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Their sobbing had irritated me so that I was tempted to cry out,
she’s not dying for goodness sake!

She shook her head, her eyes becoming more liquid. “I want to go home.”

“Give it a chance, Mary Sue. This squeeze for home you feel will ease up, you’ll see. When I was about your age, I traveled to New York City for a few weeks and I experienced the same thing. At the time, I was taking classes here at the Lighthouse on how to lobby for the women’s vote. Mrs. Catt took our entire class of fifteen to the big city to meet with the city council and participate in a women’s march. We marched right down Fifth Avenue, if you can imagine. I was not only homesick but also terrified of so many people and so much
noise. I missed Mama, as I missed her in any marches I participated in. When I was eleven I saw her in a July Fourth march. I’d never seen her look so alive before, her sign raised high, her step was high and keeping rhythm to the school band. She looked like a pretty canary who had been let out of her cage for a short time to sing.” I gazed out too, thinking I should go pay a visit to Mama.
Ah, but wait a minute – this is Jere’s daughter! This should be an interesting introduction
.

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