Wedding Ring (35 page)

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Authors: Emilie Richards

BOOK: Wedding Ring
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Billy was even less likely to want her. He was living in a tiny apartment with three other men, and there was no room for a wife and baby, particularly a wife and baby he had never asked for in the first place.

“I want to give this marriage every chance,” Nancy said. “This is the only way I can figure to make it work.”

“Mrs. Whitlock don’t want it to work.” Hattie kept her voice low, even though Caroline was gone. “That’s why she be pushing at you the way she do.”

In her heart, Nancy had known this was true, but to have it confirmed so openly frightened her. “If I leave, will they try to take Tessa?”

Hattie shrugged. “Can’t say.”

“What do you think?”

“She be a boy, I’d say yes for sure. But a girl?” Hattie shrugged again.

“In a divorce, the mother almost always gets custody, doesn’t she?”

“Mr. Whitlock knows a lot of judges. Plays tennis and golf with ’em.”

Nancy could feel what little security she had slipping away from her. “What would
you
do?”

“Sugar, this ain’t a colored woman’s problem. No judge in Virginia gonna care who gets my kids.”

Nancy was sorry that was true, but for the moment, civil rights had to take a back seat to her own personal crisis.

Tessa happily shredded what was left of her biscuit and tossed the crumbs on the floor. Nancy cleaned it up; then, coats donned and buttoned, she took the baby outside for a stroller ride around the spacious grounds.

They stopped in front of a life-sized Santa’s sleigh drawn by eight stuffed deer that had probably put groceries on some lucky taxidermist’s table for a year. Santa himself looked lifelike enough to give Nancy pause, but Tessa loved the display and tried to wiggle out of the stroller.

The Whitlock ancestors had once lived downriver on a flourishing tobacco plantation, and although the house in Windsor Farms might be modest in comparison, it was still an imposing structure. Nancy had killed many a lonely hour imagining all the changes she would make if the house were hers, beginning with the Christmas decorations.

Continuing with the prissy white-and-gold bedroom in which she was being held prisoner.

She came from poor people, yes, but she was no dummy. She might need a little tutoring—and she was even grateful for some of the things she had learned from Caroline—but she was sure that someday she could take her place here with the Richmond elite as Billy’s wife. Her yearning to fit in and find a place for herself was so strong she knew nothing could stand in the way if she was only given the chance. But that chance seemed to slip further and further away every day.

Back inside and upstairs, Tessa grew fussy again, and Nancy knew her daughter needed a nap. But if Tessa napped now, she might not nap again when Caroline wanted her to.

Nancy could feel her palms grow damp as she debated what should have been an easy decision. She did not want to further incur Caroline’s wrath, but weren’t Tessa’s needs more important? The baby had slept very little last night, and clearly she was ready to catch up. Now, not later.

Tessa settled the matter by falling asleep mid-fuss in Nancy’s arms. Nancy looked down at her sleeping daughter and didn’t have the heart to wake her again. She laid the baby carefully on her back in the crib and covered her with a blanket. Tessa’s rose-petal cheeks and curling black lashes were the most perfect creations on God’s green earth.

There was no other place in the house where she could relax and still hear Tessa if she awoke. Nancy resigned herself to several hours of isolation and went to the closet. She removed a large cardboard box from the top shelf and took it to the window, where she unpacked it. She set a round wooden quilting hoop on the floor beside her, a small cigar box with needle and thread beside that, then, finally, she removed the half-finished wedding ring quilt and draped it over her lap. She positioned the hoop over and under the quilt, took her favorite needle and threaded it, and began to follow the curving designs, quilting just beside the seams. As she did, she thought about Billy.

She had been married to William Lee Whitlock for more than a year now, but for the most part he was still a stranger. In reality, their marriage existed in name only. They lived in different towns. They slept in separate beds except when he made duty visits to Richmond. They shared no activities, no interests—besides Tessa—or hopes for the future. Billy was polite, even kind, when he was with her. They made love on the rare occasions when they had the opportunity. But Billy was an actor repeating his lines. Nancy might not have known much love in her life, but she could recognize it when she saw it.

She recognized love in herself. She loved Billy. The feeling was not mutual.

Billy was coming home in a few days, and although she should have been overjoyed to see him, she was worried, instead. He adored Tessa, a fact that still amazed her. The way in which Tessa had come into Billy’s life seemed irrelevant. He loved to play with his daughter, rock her to sleep, take her for walks in her stroller. As life in Richmond deteriorated, Billy’s interest in the baby worried Nancy more. Billy’s attachment to his daughter could well mean that he would fight for custody when the inevitable split came about. And what could Nancy do about it?

What would she do, anyway? She was hopelessly in love with Billy. She asked herself why and found no good answers. She was afraid her love was part of a new quiz show category: words beginning with “un.”

Unreasonable, unpredictable and unmanageable.

Tessa woke up just a little before one, exactly as Nancy had been afraid she would. Nancy put the quilt away and considered her options. She knew she could ask Randall to take her Christmas shopping so that she and the baby would be gone when Caroline and her friends arrived, but Tessa still seemed fussy and might even be running a slight fever. Nancy didn’t want to take chances that the baby’s symptoms might be caused by something more than an erupting tooth. Exposure to crowds seemed like a bad idea.

Hattie came up with a lunch tray, and while she gave Tessa her bottle, Nancy asked for suggestions about what to do.

Hattie was silent for a long time, as if mulling over the question. “Me, I’d take her down and show her off,” Hattie said at last. “But don’t you dare tell Mrs. Whitlow I said so.”

“Hattie, you know she doesn’t want me there. She as much as told me to stay out of sight and keep Tessa out of sight, too.”

“These ladies don’t know you’re here, they don’t know when you’re gone. She can tell them anything she likes about you. She be telling them you a bad girl and worse mother, and what they got to go on but what she say?”

Hattie’s logic made sense. Right now Nancy was an unknown to Caroline’s friends. She could have three heads or a rotten disposition. There was no way to tell what Caroline was saying about her. Perhaps Caroline’s friends had been led to believe that Nancy was too spoiled or ill-mannered to come down and chat with them.

“I’ll need an excuse,” Nancy said.

“Christmas cookies.”

“Cookies?”

“That’s what I be doing when I go downstairs in a minute. You just say you wanted to help, only put on something pretty and fix your face. Then come down and decorate them. And when those ladies get here, you can take a platter in and tell them you made those cookies just for them.”

Nancy was intrigued. “Hattie, you’ve been thinking about this?”

“Sure have.” Hattie winked.

Nancy giggled. She knew that Hattie liked her, but she also knew the other woman’s plan wasn’t sheer altruism. Hattie wanted to thwart Caroline Whitlow as badly as Nancy did.

Nancy put on her prettiest mohair sweater and pleated wool skirt, and carefully applied makeup. She dressed Tessa in red velvet and apologized as she did. Downstairs, Tessa forgot to be unhappy about the dress as she batted at Cheerios and miniature marshmallows on the high chair tray, while Nancy decorated cut-out sugar cookies with colored icing and sprinkles.

At ten minutes after one, she heard the front door open and the sound of women’s voices.

“You wait a few minutes,” Hattie cautioned. She went to the cupboard and took down a polished silver tray and lined it with a snowflake doily. Then she handed it to Nancy to adorn with cookies.

Nancy chose the prettiest. The tray was just small enough that she could balance Tessa on one hip and carry the tray in the other hand. Once she had everything set to go, she took the baby from the chair and dusted off the crumbs.

“I think I’m all ready,” she said.

“I’ll be in soon with coffee and wine punch. You be surprised what those ladies can drink.”

Nancy grinned. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it. You’ll do fine.”

Nancy took a deep breath, then walked through the kitchen door with Tessa and the tray.

She followed the sound of women’s voices toward the parlor. Hattie had told her to expect about ten women, but there were only half a dozen besides Caroline, and Nancy wondered if the others were coming later. Heads bobbed as she and the baby walked across the threshold, although Caroline’s back remained turned. Then one of the women, with silvering hair and wide, square shoulders, got to her feet with a smile.

“Oh, will you look at this darling little girl. And we’d so hoped to see her.”

Nancy beamed. “And I so hoped to show her off.”

The woman held out her arms to take Tessa, and her face glowed with pleasure. There was nothing wrong with Nancy’s instincts. She knew that if she handed over her daughter to this woman, she had made a friend for life. And since Tessa had no qualms about going to strangers, the little girl would probably be pleased to have new buttons and jewelry to explore.

Nancy leaned toward the woman, and Tessa chose that exact moment to switch her focus to the cookie tray in Nancy’s other hand. Momentarily off balance, Nancy couldn’t do anything but gasp when Tessa grabbed the edge of the tray in her tiny hand and tilted it.

Cookies slid to the carpeted floor and broke into a hundred icing-adorned crumbs. There was an immediate flurry of activity and kind words. The women jumped to their feet and started to pick up cookies. The silver-haired woman took Tessa. A pink-cheeked Nancy murmured apologies, as she stooped to help.

“I’m so sorry. But we made plenty. I’ll clean up and get a fresh platter.”

In the midst of the groundswell of goodwill, Nancy heard the front door close, and she realized her clumsiness was about to be witnessed by even more of her mother-in-law’s friends. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Don’t worry, dear,” a woman with straight black hair and silver-rimmed glasses assured her. “I was simply amazed you made it in here at all with the baby and the cookies, too. You are a wonder of coordination. Do you play tennis?”

“I’d love to learn.”

“Then you must come to the club and I’ll teach you. It’s my passion.”

Someone else took Nancy gently by the elbow and lifted her to her feet. All the women were laughing and trying to comfort her. For the first time in a long time, Nancy didn’t feel like a stranger.

Then a familiar voice sounded. “I thought I told you to put the baby to bed for a nap this afternoon, Nancy.”

Nancy’s cheeks deepened with color. She faced her mother-in-law. “I’m sorry, but she napped earlier today. I’m afraid she was up most of the night.”

“Oh, is she teething?” one of the women asked. She’d been making silly faces at Tessa, and Tessa was smiling and clapping her hands in response. “I just don’t see why a baby can’t come into the world with all her teeth intact. It would be so much more civilized.”

The other women laughed, but the laughter died when Caroline moved closer.

“A baby needs a routine,” Caroline said. “I’ve told you that before.”

Nancy could feel herself wilting, yet some part of her refused to give in. She smiled grimly. “I’m afraid somebody forgot to tell Tessa, Mrs. Whitlock. She seems to have a mind of her own.”

“Yes, well, babies do pick up things from the people who care for them, don’t they?”

The room had grown silent now. Nancy weighed her options and knew she had no good ones.

She sighed. “Well, I just hope Tessa learns to stand up for what she needs, no matter who she learns it from. And this morning I’m afraid her biggest need was more sleep. But I’ll certainly take her back upstairs if we’re in the way.”

“Take her upstairs?” the black-haired woman asked. “Don’t you dare, dear. We’re just getting to know her. I sense another tennis player in our midst. Look at the way she bats her hand—”

“I would like you to take her up and put her to bed right now,” Caroline told Nancy. “Hattie will bring us more cookies. You can visit with us another time. When it’s appropriate.”

Nancy’s eyelids fluttered closed. She had never been this humiliated, not even when she’d stood at the side of a country road and told Billy she was pregnant with his child.

“I’m afraid Nancy won’t be visiting with
any
one in Richmond for a while,” a male voice said.

Nancy opened her eyes and turned to see her husband standing in the doorway.

“Nancy is moving to Charlottesville with me,” he said.

Nancy had never seen Billy so angry. Even when he first learned she was pregnant, he had not been this upset. Now the skin around his lips was deathly white, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. He strolled toward her and kissed her cheek, then he reached for Tessa. The silver-haired woman relinquished their daughter quickly.

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