The Coach House (49 page)

“That’s the woman I told you about who I helped in Marshall Field’s one day. Remember? That’s her mobster husband.”

“Marie, you’ve got that look in your eye. What are you thinking of doing?”

“C’mon. Let’s have a cocktail before dinner,” Marie suggested, sounding more confident than she actually felt.

“Are you nuts?”

“Maybe.”

Marie led the way to a table near the Guziks and sat down in the chair where they would most likely see her. It didn’t take long. Lucy waved to her. Marie waved back. When the Guziks finished their drinks, they both nodded at Marie before exiting the bar area. Marie smiled back at them with her biggest smile.

“Okay, why did you purposely let them see you?”

“Two reasons. One is to let Richard know I’m not in hiding. And the other is to let him wonder what I’m doing in New York.”

“So you think Mr. Mob Man will tell Richard?”

“These guys stick together like glue.”

“You look proud of yourself.”

Marie sat up a little straighter. “I guess I am.”

“I’m proud of you, too.”

Marie signaled the waiter for the check, and when he arrived at their table, he informed them their tab had been taken care of.

* * *

Feeling confident and invigorated when she returned from her New York trip with Karen, and still not having heard anything from Jonathan, Marie decided she needed something new in her life, something she hadn’t thought of ever doing before. Something fun. And she had the perfect idea for it. She drove to Hiawatha to one of the many horse ranches in the area and signed up for horseback riding lessons, every Saturday morning.

The horse trainer assigned her to Moji, a fairly docile seven-year-old quarter horse. She was afraid of Moji at first and uncomfortable sitting on his back. Every time the horse raised its head or lifted its tail, Marie tensed up, not knowing what it was doing. The trainer was patient explaining the body language of horses to her. Once she learned Moji was testing her and what she had to do to gain control, Marie and Moji were able to relax and enjoy long trail rides together.

After taking riding lessons for a short period of time, Marie bought a horse of her own, a Tennessee Walker, just like the ones on her father’s ranch. The three-year-old champagne gelding had a long neck and easy stride. She named him after her father, JB.

Marie thought of Jonathan often, but not like she did when she was on her horse. When she was on JB she felt a connection, a bond, not only with the horse, but with her father. She wasn’t sure whether it was the sensation of hugging something that was so near and dear to her father or something else. All she knew was that the more she rode, the stronger the bond got.

She had just finished one of her riding lessons and was on her way to pick up Karen to go shopping at Country Club Plaza in Kansas City. When Karen got in her car all dressed up, Marie decided to go home and change out of her casual riding clothes.

“C’mon up while I change. It won’t take me long.”

The phone was ringing when they entered Marie’s apartment. Karen sat in the living room flipping through a magazine while Marie talked on the phone in the kitchen. She joined Karen on the sofa when she was through.

“It was him.”

“Who?”

“Jonathan.”

Karen stared at Marie with wide eyes. “Well?”

“He’s invited me to his home…with his entire family…for Thanksgiving.”

“No kidding.”

Marie shook her head.

“Just for the day?”

“No.”

“How long then?”

“He’s talking two weeks.”

“What!?”

Marie nodded, unable to speak for a long moment. “Two weeks,” she said in disbelief herself. “He says he wants to come here with his driver and pick me up so that we have the whole way to his house to talk by ourselves.” She looked at Karen and let out a shriek. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“So what else did he say?”

“He said he wants me to meet his family…and then he corrected himself and said
your
family.” She clutched her heart.
“My
family.”

“You’re kidding. So his wife must be okay with it, right?”

“I don’t know, but then he’s inviting me there for two weeks, so…good grief, I hope she’s okay with it, or it’s going to be a very long two weeks.”

“What about his children?”

“He didn’t mention them except that he wants me to meet the whole family, so I assume that means his children. God, I wonder what they’re like.”

“When are you leaving?”

“He said he’d call me in a couple of days and work out the dates, but he’s thinking the week before and after Thanksgiving.”

“That’s in less than a month!”

“I know. You know what the last thing he said was?”

Karen shook her head.

“He asked me to call him Dad…that is, if I was comfortable with it.” She couldn’t control the hitch in her throat when she said the word, Dad. “I’m twenty-four-years old and have never called anyone Dad in my life.”

“So
are
you comfortable with it?”

Marie took a moment to think about Karen’s question. “I don’t know, and I don’t think I
will
know until the first time I’m faced with it.”

“This is what you’ve wanted for a long time, Marie. Now that it’s here, is it a little scary?”

“What’s that?”

“Being part of a big family. Your childhood dream, remember?”

“Yeah. It’s scary alright.”

Karen leaned over and hugged her. With tears welling up in her eyes, she sobbed, “I am
so
happy for you.”

Marie couldn’t hold her own tears back. They held each other for several seconds.

“You are happy, aren’t you?” Karen asked.

“You have no idea.” Marie looked past Karen into another time and space before continuing. “But I’m nervous, too. What’s saving me right now is that I don’t think he would have invited me to his home if he didn’t think it would go well, especially with his wife. You met Claire that day. What do you remember about her?”

“All I remember, Marie, was that she was attractive, well dressed, and very nice, easy to talk to.”

“Do you remember how dark her skin was?”

“If I remember correctly, she had close to the same skin tone as Jonathan, which was pretty light. Why?”

“Just curious.”

“C’mon. Let’s go shopping for your trip!”

* * *

With her trip to St. Charles drawing near, Marie reflected more than usual on her life—past, present, and future. Thoughts of her mother both plagued and pleased her. She desperately hoped Jonathan would tell her details of how they met, what their relationship was like, and what conversations took place before Marie was born.

Her new family. That was both an exciting and chilling thought. Two half brothers. Two Negro half brothers…and their wives…and Jonathan’s wife…and their two grandchildren. It was overwhelming.

Jonathan’s wife.
How on earth will she act toward me? What if there’s tension? There’s got to be. Can I survive two weeks in a house full of tension?

She thought about Richard, the good and the bad. As far as she knew, he hadn’t come through with his threats against Jonathan, but then again his activities had been interrupted with a stint in jail. She wondered how long he had to stay there and if he was taking that opportunity to plot something against Jonathan.

Reliving her meeting with Jonathan and the more recent phone call gave her comfort as well as angst. She couldn’t help but wonder how the conversation went with his wife and then his children. What were the chances that everyone was okay with her being the newest member of Jonathan’s
family? Just how will I fit in?

Her thoughts about her newfound ethnicity were in complete disarray. She kept going back to the movie,
Pinky.
She thought about how much better Pinky was treated when she passed for white, how easy it was to be in a relationship with a decent and intelligent man. But Miss Em’s words echoed in her head.
Don’t deny your true self.
Right now Marie didn’t know who her true self was.

Thoughts about someday having a family of her own haunted her. How could she do that now? No white man would want her if he knew of her heritage, and she didn’t think she’d feel comfortable with a colored man. If she continued passing for white, she might have a chance with a relationship, but not without the cost of deceiving him and herself. And children would be out of the question, as she wouldn’t put any child through what she was going through.

If it weren’t for the guilt and the self-loathing, Marie thought she would continue passing for white. At least then she could continue being treated with respect and avoid being associated with a group of people who were constantly degraded by whites. And, as despicable as it was, she kept reminding herself she wouldn’t have gotten as far as she did in her life if she hadn’t kept passing for white.

Life was so much simpler when she didn’t know she was part colored.

Damn that Mrs. Hollingsworth!

But if it hadn’t been for southern-born intolerant Mrs. Hollingsworth, Marie wouldn’t have known the comfort of her father’s protective arms wrapped around her as he whispered, “My child.”

Thank you, Mrs. Hollingsworth.

THE END

DAUGHTERS

Marie’s life was about to change. Her father, Jonathan Brooks, a man she had met for the first time just two months earlier, was going to arrive at her coach house apartment in less than twelve hours to take her to meet his family—her newfound family—in St. Charles, Illinois. It was a ten-hour car ride from her home in Atchison, Kansas, and Jonathan promised Marie they could talk about anything and everything on the way.

Anything and everything in twenty-four-year-old Marie’s mind meant nothing was off limits, and she intended to take full advantage of the opportunity. Jonathan was married and had three children of his own when he met Marie’s now deceased mother, and Marie knew very little about their affair. She wanted to know how they met, what they did together, how long the affair lasted and what caused their breakup. Most of all, she wanted to know what attracted them to each other in the first place. After all, Jonathan was a Negro, and her mother was white, a rather unlikely pairing in 1923 Chicago.

Discovering who her father was also meant discovering her own ethnicity. With olive skin, nut brown eyes, and hair the color of raven’s wings, Marie could easily pass for white…and did for the first twenty-four years of her life. If it weren’t for the guilt and self-loathing she endured from it, she would continue to pass for white, because that would be easier on so many levels. But her strong need to know who she really was and where she belonged drove her to find the answers, the truths about herself, and she was hopeful her father would be able to give her valuable insight.

What brought Jonathan and Marie together to begin with was a threat Marie’s estranged husband, Richard, had made to expose Jonathan. Richard ran with a dangerous crowd in Chicago and had made it clear on more than one occasion he wanted her back. What frightened Marie was Richard always got what he went after. Two months had passed since that threat, and nothing had happened, but Marie and Jonathan knew it was just a matter of time before something did.

While she packed, Marie thought about Jonathan’s family—his Negro wife Claire, their three grown sons, a daughter-in-law and two grandchildren. What were the chances she would be accepted by all of them, and what kind of relationships would emerge from their first meeting? She didn’t know.