by Read, Calia
Even after observing her, I am still willing to be one of those puppets.
Louise sternly calls out, “Shift change.”
All too happily, I take the headset off. I can’t decide which I loathe more: the uncomfortable seat or the dreadful headset. I lost count the number of times I had to wipe moisture from the receiver. Each time, Leaf would look at me from the corner of her eye and furtively shake her head.
Quietly, I follow Leaf out of the room, not before Louise tells me, “Ms. Claiborne, you will have the same shift tomorrow and will sit next to Leah Frances.”
I nod, simply because I haven’t used my voice in so many hours.
Once I’m in the hall, I take a deep breath. Leaf’s waiting there with Susan and Judy. The three of them stare at me expectantly.
“That was… horrible.”
“Of course, it’s horrible,” Leaf says. “But will you be back tomorrow?”
My reply is instantaneous. “Absolutely.”
Leaf smiles victoriously at Susan. “I told you she would stay. Welcome, Nat!”
Susan moves forward and gives me a nod of approval. “I hope you appreciated your life before this job because you’ll never see it again.”
The ladies laugh, and I laugh with them, but inside, I am desperate for her words to be true. I want to forget the past and the life I created when I married Oliver.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Asa
“Look at it!”
I pause in the threshold of my home, straining to hear more, but the voice stops talking. The voice is familiar and belongs to Juliet.
But what I can’t understand is why she’s yelling.
I turn in the direction of where Lemrich always stands each day, ready to take my jacket and briefcase, but he’s nowhere in sight. In fact, there’s no movement coming from within the house.
What is happening right now?
I repress a groan and place my briefcase on the floor. I’m exhausted. I love the challenge that work brings me. I can spend hours locked away in my office, lost in the numbers. Nothing ever distracts me.
Nathalie does.
There’s been nothing about her behavior that’s untoward. As a matter of fact, we hardly speak. Which I tell myself is for the best. Yet I have questions for her. How is she handling the job? Standards are high and the responsibilities that come with being a switchboard operator are almost too much for ladies to withstand. I am constantly hiring new ladies because of it.
Discreetly as possible, I asked Louise about Nathalie’s performance. In an inelegant manner, she lifted a shoulder and said, “Fine.”
Of course, Louise didn’t take interest in Nat. As long as calls are being answered in a timely manner, she is okay.
I take it upon myself to check on her. My office is on the second floor, directly above the call center. It affords me the perfect opportunity to look and see how everyone is performing. Under Louise’s draconian rule, I’ve never had to give the ladies a second look, but I find myself standing by the windows, keeping a watchful eye on Nat whenever I have the time.
Although she doesn’t answer the calls as swiftly as the other girls, she’s catching on quickly. There are many times I see her reach behind her and rub her lower back, but she doesn’t stop. She almost seems to be enjoying herself.
When I watch her, I find myself smiling. If Étienne could see her, he’d realize how wrong he was. Nathalie has far more drive and determination than he gives her credit for. If she works hard, she can have Louise’s job in no time.
I want to tell her that much, but even after two conversations, I still don’t know how to define this new relationship we find ourselves in. But I believe I can have dozens of conversations with this new Nathalie and I still wouldn’t be able to place her in the role as friend. One moment she was Étienne’s little sister, mooning over me. And the next, I was obsessed with her.
And now, here I am, still controlled by thoughts of her and she doesn’t even know it.
As I walk down the hall, I resolve to try harder to push Nathalie out of my mind. I’ve done it before. I can certainly do it again.
I can’t think of that now. I need to discover what is going on in my home. Inside the dining room, all fifteen of the servants are lined up near the wall, solemnly staring at Juliet as though she’s a general in the military.
And I can see why. My typically docile wife is commanding the room. She has the haughty air of a socialite. Someone who hasn’t worked a day in her life, but has no problem looking down upon the people who do. I’ve never seen her project airs like this in front of me.
Until now.
Crossing my arms, I lean against the doorway, and watch, careful not to be seen by anyone.
Juliet holds a single fork in the air. Slowly, she turns it between her fingers, treating the utensil as though it’s a crown jewel. “Tasks may seem menial, but they’re necessary. Because you see, if one of you did your work when you should have, none of us would be here right now.” Closing her eyes, Juliet shakes her head and looks on with disapproval. “I’m not mad. I’m just disappointed. Whoever failed to do their chore properly won’t be punished. Truthfully. Simply speak now and this matter will be over.” The room descends into a heavy silence that you only find at churches during prayers or trials for murderers. When you think about it, that’s what this is. A trial, and Juliet is judge and jury.
No one confesses, and I’m almost relieved that not one person believes Juliet’s words. Nothing about them ring true.
Juliet sighs. “Very well.”
With the fork still raised, she walks over to the first servant in line and smiles at the girl. “Does this fork look clean to you?”
The girl shakes her head.
Juliet continues down the line. One by one, they all shake their heads.
When Juliet gets toward the end, though, a young lady, who I believe works in the kitchen, answers differently. “Yes, ma’am.”
Juliet’s hand snakes out and grabs the back of the servant’s head. The young woman’s eyes go wide as Juliet jerks her forward, until her nose is inches away from the fork.
“Look. Does it appear clean?”
“Y-yes, ma’am.”
“You don’t see the fingerprint?” Juliet shoves the fork closer to the servant’s face.
The young woman flinches and swallows before she replies, “Y-yes. I mean, no.” She’s so nervous, there’s no possible way for her to get her words out.
Watching how Juliet treats the young woman is unexpected, and it brings forward memories of a scared, weak boy. A boy who frequently felt belittled and humiliated, and never good enough no matter what he did.
I’ve absolutely seen enough. “What are you doin’?”
At once, Juliet pulls back from the servant. A wash of relief comes across the young woman’s face, only to be replaced by wariness as she sees me approach. I know I may not have the softest approach with words, but does she think I’ll do the same thing as Juliet?
Not once have I ever raised my voice or laid a hand on my staff. To demean someone is one of the lowest things you can possibly do.
“Asa, dear, you’re home,” Juliet breathes.
I regard her for a long second before I look to my head butler, Lemrich, with regret that I didn’t arrive sooner. Solemnly, he dips his head in acknowledgment. I face the room. “My apologies, everyone. You can all resume what you were doin’.”
Silently, as everyone walks out of the dining room, their gazes flit between me and Juliet. Lemrich is the last to leave, and when he does, he closes the door behind him.
Confused and angry, I face my wife, only to find her twirling the fork between her fingers. Her face is serene but perplexed, and her brows are slightly furrowed. Why does she look that way?
What moves behind her eyes?
“You will not treat anyone in my home in such a manner,” I state calmly.
Juliet lifts her gaze and looks at me. She blinks several times, as th
ough I’m not in focus. She doesn’t give me a reply. I repeat myself, and she unnervingly stares at me. Her grip on the fork tightens until she’s holding the fork more as a weapon than a prize.
Cautiously, I step forward and repeat myself one last time. “You will not treat anyone in my home in such a manner.”
Slowly, I reach forward, and with my eyes locked on hers, extract the fork from her hand. Juliet’s grip is surprisingly tight. There’s a slight struggle and I think she’s going to fight me when, abruptly, she lets go. When she does, clarity fills her eyes. Her shoulders straighten as she furtively looks around the room.
“Is that clear?” I prompt.
Her eyes fly back to mine, wild and frantic. “Yes, but please don’t yell at me. I can explain!”
My brows knit together. “Yell? Juliet, I didn’t y—” I step forward, my arms stretched as I attempt to reason with her.
But, right away, she steps back with fear in her eyes and extends a hand in front of her, palm up, as though to keep me away from her.
What is she doing?
Better yet, what is she thinking?
Her eyes well up with tears, and her already blue eyes become as vivid and bright as the ocean. “You were not here, Asa. You don’t know how they were. I want everythin’ in our home to be perfect for you and they wouldn’t answer me. Do you understand how disheartenin’ that was for me? Not only were they disrespectin’ me, but they were also disrespectin’ you.”
Slowly, I shake my head. Juliet’s conviction and words simply don’t align with what I know. “You are incorrect,” I state flatly. “They’ve never been disrespectful. Not once. What I saw was you bein’ disrespectful.”
Juliet’s eyes momentarily widen with shock. She didn’t expect me to be so straightforward with her. Is she going to cry now? Whenever Nat cried, I couldn’t bear it. It felt as if my insides were being ripped apart, and the only way I could stop my pain was to stop Nat’s pain.
What tears I’ve seen from Juliet have almost made me feel… irritated.
Briefly, her eyes close. She gives a small nod, and when her eyes open, I see the remorse and regret. “You’re right. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have done what I did. If I upset you, I apologize.”
I don’t want to push the issue any further than I have. But her cold, icy demeanor to the staff isn’t something I can ignore. She was an entirely different person with them. She thought herself better than them.
I am no fool. This is the South, and even though slavery was abolished well over fifty years ago, segregation was not. But for me, my staff are my friends. When I look at them, I see people who would comfort me after my father screamed at me. Who would help me clean up the library after my father destroyed the books when he was deep in his cups.
They saw nothing wrong with me. They accepted me. And for that, they would always have my loyalty.
“Do you want a drink?”
I merely stare at her as she smiles at me.
“People think coffee can fix the day, but that simply means they haven’t had the perfect glass of sweet tea.”
I’m astounded, trying to accept that the actions I witnessed belong to the person I married. After a few seconds, I blink rapidly and clear my throat. I look at my expectant wife with her beaming, hopeful eyes. “If you’re sorry, apologize to the servants.”
At once, her sweet demeanor disappears. “Pardon me?”
“You are regretful for your actions. You said so yourself to me, but I think you need to voice your sentiment to the staff.”
You would think, due to the stunned expression on Juliet’s face, that I hurled hateful insults her way. She clutches her hands to her chest. “Pardon me?”
“You didn’t debase me. You debased them, and you need to apologize.”
My wife steps toward me, eyes wide. “You can’t mean to degrade me in front of the servants in such a manner, do you?”
“It’s an apology. I’m not askin’ you to burn at the stake.”
The way Juliet’s reacting, one would think she would rather face fire than admit her faults. “Asa, they’re servants.”
“No, they’re people, and this a job for them.”
Her eyes remain hard and unmoved. After a long beat of silence, I think she’s going to refuse when she finally nods. “Very well. If this is what you need. I will do it.”
I arch a brow. “Excellent.” I brush past her, and opening the dining room door, I barely have Lemrich’s name out before he’s standing in front of me.
“Can you send in the girl my wife humiliated?”
Lemrich doesn’t flinch at my blunt question. “Of course. I’ll send Alice down right away.”
It occurs to me that I don’t know her name. I actually don’t know a lot of their names. I can argue that I rely on Lemrich to run the operations of the home. Or perhaps I am just as culpable as Juliet, not bothering to know my staff because I am too lost in my work. My life. The very thought is humbling.
“Lemrich. Wait,” I blurt.
He stops and turns, and patiently waits.
“Please bring everyone back in.”
He doesn’t ask questions and immediately leaves.
Juliet hears me and instantly objects. “Everyone? I did not agree to that, Asa!” she says behind me.
I look over my shoulder and sigh. “I heard you yell at more than just the girl, so I believe this is necessary.”
Juliet’s lips draw into a flatline, and her nostrils flare as she stares at me. Stubbornly, I stare back. She looks close to saying what’s precisely on her mind, when there’s a sharp rap on the door.
“Come in,” I say, while holding Juliet’s gaze. When the door opens, and she sees it’s the staff, she breaks eye contact and walks toward the windows.
The staff is just as quiet as when they departed the first time. Confusion fills their gazes as they file into the room one by one. The dining room becomes filled with apprehension as everyone stares expectantly at me. I look to Juliet, but when I see she has her back to the room and is still looking out the window, I address the staff.
“I brought everyone back to address what I saw earlier. I apologize for how you were spoken to.” I take my time to look at each and every individual person. “My wife is deeply ashamed and has a few words for all of you. Don’t you, Juliet?”
At the sound of her name, Juliet turns. Her entire face is beat red. Anger positively vibrates off of her.
She looks down at the floor as she walks to my side and faces the staff. With her back ramrod straight, she looks up, but not at the staff. No, she instead gazes at the wall behind them.
“I am regretful for my behavior,” Juliet prattles off in a toneless voice. “If I upset anyone, I do apologize.” She pauses and looks at me from the corner of my eye. “It will not happen again.”
The silence that immerses the room fills my ears. Not a single person makes a sound. Multiple sets of eyes land on me. The tension hasn’t abated after Juliet’s brief talk. Her words were meaningless. I know that and so does everyone else. They all simply want to know what to do next.
Without looking at Juliet, I step forward and begin to speak to each of them one by one. I begin to put names to faces. Ellen who works in the kitchen, along with Ivy and Joy. There is Uriah who tends to the gardens, and Daisy and Effie who are Juliet’s personal maids. When I get to Alice, I discover she also works in the kitchen with her mother, Ellen.
They were hesitant when I first walked up to them, but as I talked to them one by one, the tension eased somewhat. I’m sure it could’ve been eased far more if Juliet followed suit. But she stubbornly stays put.
I dismiss them and as Alice walks out of the dining room, she looks at me, just for a second. But before she looks away, I see the question in her eyes, Who did you let into this home?
I know the question because it’s one I’m asking myself at this very moment.
My wife’s demeanor changed so swiftly, I almost question if I saw her humiliate th
e servant. But there’s no mistaking the gleam that was in Juliet’s eyes. She was aware of her actions.
Once the room is empty, I turn back to my wife. She’s back at the window, gazing at nothing in particular. As though she can sense me staring, she turns to me. “Is that all you need from me?” Her question asked through clenched teeth.
For several seconds, I carefully regard her. I’ve always believed myself to be a good judge in character. If I gathered anything from my father, it was that I needed to have good instincts if I wanted to survive the world. But I didn’t know Juliet like I thought I did. We all have character imperfections, but there is something looming beneath Juliet. I can’t describe it, and that’s what makes it all the more unnerving. I’m not certain I want to know.
I clear my throat and gesture to the doorway. “That will be all.”
Juliet hurries out of the room, not hiding her hatred for me. I don’t go after her because I hate myself and the marriage I said yes to. And every night when I lie next to my wife, it’s not her who haunts my dreams. When I’m on top of her, I don’t see her features. I see Nathalie’s.
I sit in one of the dining room seats and drop my face into my hands. My life is far from how I envisioned it. I can’t remember the last time it was easy.
No, that’s not true. It was before Nathalie changed and I saw her differently. When she was still a little girl and needed me in the role of an older brother. Life presented its challenges, but if I knew what I know now, I’d go back.
My God, I’d go back…
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
1903
Asa
“Have you considered takin’ the job position at C.T. Lowndes & Company?”
I looked at my father from the corner of my eye and swallowed my food. It dawned on me that this was why my parents extended an invitation to have dinner with them tonight. Not to exchange pleasantries (although there was little chance of that happening) but to interrogate me on my future decisions.
“I did and while I think it’s a great opportunity, I believe I will have to pass.”
My father appeared genuinely baffled by my reply. Momma, who was sitting across from me, merely watched us with something close to apprehension. Ever since I was a child, it had been that way. The tension in her shoulders was so heavy, she nearly hunched over. Her gaze flitted about the room, like a wild animal in search of the nearest escape.