by Willow Aster
I shake my head. “I mean, yes, it’s sad, but…just havin’ a hard time bein’ in this house again. Too much.”
“I was supposed to be here when you got here, honey. I told Isaiah I would and I tried real hard, but the Gentrys would not let me go!”
“It’s okay. You’re here now and Isaiah and Papa will be soon, too.”
“Gracie outside? I didn’t see her when I pulled in.”
“She’s on the hammock.”
“Okay…oh and I’ve got somebody you’ll like to see,” he says when we step outside. He lets out a loud whistle.
A dog comes running and when he gets closer, I yell, “Josh!”
He hightails it to me and I sit down so I can pet him and hug him. His whole hind end waves back and forth.
“I can’t believe he’s still looking so good,” I say to my dad.
“Yeah, he’s been happy as can be back here with me. He wasn’t faring too well after Nellie.”
Gracie hears the commotion and hops off the hammock to run toward Granpapa.
“Look at you. You’re all stretched out!” he yells.
She laughs and hugs him again.
“Speakin’ of stretched out,” Dad says, as he turns and pats my stomach, “think that baby will make an appearance while you’re here?”
“I hope not. I’d like to get home and settled before that happens!”
Dad sobers a little but gives me a smile.
“Now that Grandpaw is gone, maybe I can get over to Bardstown more often,” he says. “Maybe even something permanent. This isn’t my home anymore either.”
“I’d like that,” I say, leaning my head on his shoulder.
ISAIAH AND PAPA get to the house just in time to shower and go to the funeral parlor. The relief is immediate when I see Isaiah’s face.
He kisses my eyelids, my nose, my cheeks, and lands on my lips, all the while rubbing my stomach.
He finally holds my face out to study me. “You okay?” he asks.
“I am now.”
“I kicked myself the minute you walked out that door,” he tells me. “I let you talk me into staying and I shouldn’t have.”
“Maybe I needed to face all this on my own.”
“No, you’ve done enough of that. You never need to do that again.”
I pull him to me and kiss him hard.
“Now, go get ready,” I say. “We gotta go.”
I pat his behind as he walks away.
WE WALK IN as a fierce unit. Dad, Papa, Ruby, Sadie, Isaiah, Gracie and me. My family. We stand by the casket together, as people come and pay their respects. Rumor got out a long time ago that Isaiah and I were married, but the residents of Tulma still seem a little taken aback that we’re all here together. Not even Isaiah knows this, but Daddy has set up guards all around the building, just in case any of Les’s or Leroy’s family comes to give us any trouble. He also didn’t want any of the Klan setting one foot through the door.
Miss Sue smiles so big when she sees me. “Caroline Carson! Uh, I mean, Washington! How are you doin’?” She eyes my enormous belly and tries to give me a hug around it.
“I’m really well. So good to see you, Miss Sue.”
I hear her before I see her. Miss Greener comes up in a half-trot, church hat askew. She’s wiping tears and beaming at the same time. Miss Greener is one of the few people in Tulma that I wish I’d kept in touch with…
“Look at you,” she says. “If I could tell you how many times I have thought of you over the years,” she shakes her head, “why, I am fuller than a tick! My heart aboundeth over!”
I get tickled. I’m gonna have to remember that one for later.
We talk for a long time and even later, we get more chances to visit. She’s still the same quirky, fun lady. She tells me right away that George died just a year ago.
“He was the best dog…” she says sadly.
The Owens’ family sent a beautiful bouquet with a sweet note, saying they wished they could’ve made it to the funeral. Clara Mae met a nice guy from North Carolina when she went off to college. When she got married, her parents moved out there too. I hear Thomas moved to Dallas and has done really well for himself in real estate.
And then I see her—standing at the back of the funeral parlor—my mother. She clutches the arm of Mr. Anderson, who is balding and quite round, and makes her way to the front. My mouth drops when the people clear away and I can fully see her.
She’s pregnant too.
She averts her eyes when she sees me. When she lifts them back up, I can’t read them. She walks up the rest of the way and pays my dad her respects. She stands and looks at Grandpaw for a moment and puts a handkerchief up to her eyes. If feels like the whole room went quiet the minute she walked in.
Then she squares her shoulders and walks up to me.
“Caroline,” she says.
“Mama,” I say.
She looks down at Gracie, but barely for a second before her eyes reach mine again. She just stands there, studying me from head to toe.
“Like what you see?” I ask.
“Looks like you’ve certainly grown up,” she says. “And out,” she adds under her breath.
“I should hope so,” I reply. “It’s certainly no thanks to you.”
I’m holding Isaiah’s and Gracie’s hands so hard, I have to consciously loosen my grip.
“You never needed me,” she says.
“I know, you’ve said that before. I did need you, Mama, but I managed to be all right in spite of you.” I feel the blood boil in me and step forward, dragging Isaiah and Gracie forward with me. “Why don’t you just go ahead and bring that baby to me once you have it, since we all know you’re not capable of taking care of anyone but yourself.”
Mr. Anderson shifts awkwardly next to her, but he doesn’t jump to her defense.
She puts a hand up to her hair and her skin turns a mottled red.
I guess that’s one way we’re alike.
And that’s where the similarities end. I have no desire to know this woman. I take a step back, and Isaiah and Gracie stumble back with me.
My mom takes a step back too, and then turns around and walks out the door. I never see her again. And that’s fine by me. I do pray for that baby of hers every day, though.
I HAVE NEVER been so glad to see home and my bed in all my life. We pull in late the night after the funeral and Isaiah leads me straight to the bed. I’m trying so hard not to waddle in front of him, but I am spread out like a church picnic…way bigger than I was with Gracie.
Isaiah takes my shoes off for me and I lean over to kiss him before I lie back.
“We did it,” I say. “We faced that town and all those people.”
“It wasn’t so bad, was it,” he says, “well, except…”
“You know,” I interrupt, “it was even good to see her. I can know in my knower, as Nellie would say, that she is never gonna want to be my mother. There’s some closure in the knowing.”
“Well, I’m glad then. Because I wanted nothing more than to carry her right off the premises as soon as I saw her come through that door.”
I pat his cheek. “My savior.”
“Your love.”
I nod. “My love. Always.”
IVAN DAVIS AND Daniel Isaiah are born the very next afternoon. I feel all the same emotions of wanting to murder someone as I did while giving birth to Gracie, only now two reasons to feel that way. I guess it’s a good thing I have that ‘perfect birth canal’…
We all dote on the boys; every minute they’re covered by someone’s attention. I think they’re relieved to get in their beds at night, to have a little peace. Gracie is in heaven, having two babies to mother. They’re little spittin’ images of their daddy too. I just love looking at them all day long.
When they’re about a month old, I set up a time for everyone to meet, get the boys dressed warm, and we all make our way to the barn.
Isaiah and Papa bend down and together t
hey pull up the slabs of wood that open to the secret tunnel. Ruby and Sadie hold hands. My dad is holding Daniel and Brenda is holding Ivan. Gracie takes my hand, and when Isaiah stands back up, she takes his too. We stand there and look down in the cavernous space that set so many people free.
I look at those surrounding me, the ones who might not be my blood, but are every bit my family. There’s a variety of shades represented and the thought makes me happy, a new generation of color.
I clear my throat and look each one of them in the eye. “Thanks for coming out here with us today. I wanted to do something special to commemorate this place and dedicate my family to this ground, the meaning behind what happened here…and to each of you. I found this scripture the other day,” I laugh and roll my eyes at Papa, “I know, I know, don’t be lookin’ for me on the pew Sunday—it’s just a scripture!” I tease. “Anyway, I found it in Isaiah.”
I wink at my Isaiah.
“It says: ‘When they cry out to the Lord because of their oppressors, he will send them a savior and defender, and he will rescue them.’ In one form or another, each of you have been that to me. To say I am so grateful sounds small, but know that I mean it times a hundred.”
Papa grins his sweet crinkly grin and says, “Martin Luther King, Jr said: ‘Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.’ You’ve brought the light into our little world here, Caroline. Shown me what love and life is really all about…which is no small feat at my age.” His shoulders shake as he laughs.
I move over to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Papa. You’re the one who did that for me.”
I look at Isaiah then and take his hand. “I’m embarrassed now when I think about how I did the cowardly thing and nearly gave up on something beautiful.” I motion to the dark cave. “I’d like to think that in some small way we’re a part of this powerful legacy that paved the way for us—a way for Gracie and our boys to know freedom.”
“Amen,” Ruby says.
Each one echoes after her.
“All right, now let’s go have some peach cobbler to celebrate.”
And with that we head home, hearts light.
THANK YOU
To my husband, my kids, my family, my friends
My betas, my street team, my support system
Thank you to all of you who keep me sane, you know who you are.
Thank you to the authors who have given me your love and support.
Thank you to every single reader—I will always be so grateful to you for reading my books.
Thank you to all the bloggers out there who are making a difference, both for the author and the reader.
XO
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