by Ginny Dye
Jeremy gazed into her kind, expressive eyes for a long moment. He made his decision. “My twin sister is a teacher,” he said quietly.
“You have a twin sister? And she is a teacher?” Marietta asked with surprise. “Where?”
“She started a school out at Cromwell Plantation for the black children in the area,” Jeremy asked, trying to feel his way. He hated that he felt the need to speak so carefully, but he was aware of prejudices that even open-minded people still grappled with.
“That’s wonderful!” Marietta exclaimed. Then she looked at him sharply. “You seemed hesitant to tell me about her. Why?”
“My twin is black,” Jeremy replied. Marietta stared at him blankly as his words hung in the cold air. The quiet, deserted streets captured the announcement and flung it back at him.
“Perhaps you should explain,” Marietta finally replied.
Jeremy saw no censure or judgment in her eyes, only curiosity. He could find no fault in that. His announcement of a black twin sister would certainly create curiosity and a desire to know the whole story. He found it rather odd that his history was being revealed on the streets of Richmond on a frigidly raw dark night, but he was suddenly eager to have the truth known. He already knew Marietta was too important to play games with. He was certain the attraction between them was mutual. It was not fair to let it go further if his heritage was going to be a problem.
“My mother was a slave on Cromwell Plantation. My biological father was Thomas Cromwell’s father…” Jeremy began, telling her the entire story.
Marietta listened quietly.
“I found out the truth after I had already become friends with Thomas. Carrie had already discovered the existence of Rose’s twin, but then she unearthed an image of her grandfather that looked just like me. She had only met me once, when she was working at the hospital, but the resemblance hit her immediately. My father admitted the truth when she confronted him, but begged her to keep the secret.”
“That must have been so difficult,” Marietta murmured.
“It was,” Jeremy agreed. He continued on with the story. “I met Rose just two weeks after Richmond fell.” He smiled. “She is an astonishing woman. I could not be more proud of her.”
Marietta stared at him for a long moment. “This is a very personal story,” she finally said. “We have just met. Why are you choosing to tell me?”
Jeremy opted for honesty. He saw no reason to stop now. “Because I believe our relationship could turn into something much more than an acquaintance,” he replied promptly. “I knew I wanted to know you the moment I saw you. I don’t believe I’m imagining that our attraction is mutual.” He looked to her for confirmation.
“You’re not,” she agreed, her eyes steady. “But…”
“I don’t want to begin a relationship that has no chance of moving forward,” Jeremy said bluntly.
“And you believe your heritage could be a problem for me?” Marietta asked. “Even with all you know about me?”
Jeremy took a deep breath. “I look white, but I am mulatto. Though the chances are not high, if I have children they have a chance of being black, or at least looking much more colored than I do.”
Marietta managed a smile. “This is truly an odd conversation to be having with a man I just met, but I find the candor — especially from a southern gentleman — quite refreshing.”
Jeremy waited quietly while he watched different feelings and emotions flicker through Marietta’s eyes. He knew what he had revealed was a lot for anyone to comprehend and absorb. “You need time to think about this,” he finally said. “I simply needed for you to know the truth.”
Marietta nodded. “The best way to show appreciation for your candor is to be equally candid in return,” she finally said. “While my life is devoted to black children, I’ve never imagined the possibility of me having one of my own. And I will admit I had not yet gotten to the point where I had considered having children with you,” she said frankly.
Jeremy’s lips twitched, but he remained silent.
“I like you, Mr. Anthony. You did not imagine the mutual attraction. In all honesty, I cannot give you a response as to my thoughts about having a mulatto baby, but I am quite certain I would like to spend more time with you and get to know you better. Can that be enough?”
“More than enough,” Jeremy replied quickly, relief almost making him breathless. He knew their relationship could still end, but at least not because the truth had been hidden.
“Thank you,” Marietta said.
Jeremy lifted his eyebrows.
“Thank you for trusting me with your story. I can assure you it will not go beyond this conversation. I am well aware of the Black Codes, and the meaning for mulattoes. Whatever comes from our relationship, I will do nothing that might cause harm to you or to your family.”
Jeremy smiled, suddenly aware he had been certain of that before he began to speak. “Thank you,” he replied, reaching down to take one of her hands.
“Will I get the chance to meet your sister?” Marietta asked. “I would love to talk with her about her experiences in the contraband camp.”
Jeremy grinned, his heart light. “I’m sure your opportunity will come,” he assured her. “But for right now, I need to get you home before your reputation is destroyed by being out so late with a strange man.”
Marietta laughed gaily as she tucked her hand into his arm. “I’m quite sure you have figured out by now that I don’t give a fig what people think about me!”
“Another one of the things I like about you,” Jeremy agreed. “Abby pulled me aside before we left and asked me to invite you for dinner on Wednesday. Are you free to join us? I can come by from the factory to pick you up.”
“Absolutely. I shall look forward to it.”
“We’re almost there!” Amber cried, bouncing on the carriage seat. Suddenly she frowned. “I need a new name.”
“A new name?” Opal asked, forcing herself to breathe evenly as the plantation grew closer. She knew it had to be done, but she couldn’t imagine looking into Annie’s eyes and telling her that her baby was gone.
“Yes,” Amber insisted. “Sadie Lou got a new name so everyone wouldn’t confuse her with Sadie. I bet Amber and Clint are still there with their mama and daddy. So I need a new name, too.”
This was as good a distraction as anything. Opal managed a smile. “You got one in mind?”
“Do you have one in mind?” Amber corrected.
Opal blinked at her.
“Susie said education is real important,” Amber said earnestly. “She told me I would have more opportunities in the world if I spoke correctly.”
“So that’s why you’ve been working so hard in school?” Eddie asked gently.
Amber nodded. “I’m thirteen, just about to turn fourteen. I’m your only daughter now.” Tears filled her eyes. “I want you to be proud of me.”
Eddie pulled her close. “Honey, I’m already so proud of you I could burst. I’m real happy you be learning to speak right, but it won’t make me any more proud of you.”
Amber sat a little straighter as her lips trembled into a smile.
“We called you Sunny to tell you apart from little Amber before we left,” Opal said. “Do you like that?”
“Not really,” Amber said seriously. “It sounds like a little girl’s name.”
“Amber Lou,” Carl blurted out. “Then you’ll think of Sadie every time someone says your name. That way you can’t never forget her.”
Opal caught Eddie’s eyes. She wasn’t sure it was a good thing to force Amber to remember her sister every time someone called her name, but she was also quite sure Sadie would never be far from Amber’s thoughts anyway. Their years on the plantation after their mother’s death had knit them closer together than sisters. It was almost as if their souls had entwined as they walked together through those dark, sorrowful years. There had not been one night that Amber hadn’t cried herself to sleep since Sadie�
�s death, either Opal or Eddie holding her until she finally drifted off.
“What do you think of Amber Lou?” Opal asked gently.
Amber considered it and then nodded slowly. “Amber Lou.” She let the name roll off her tongue, tilting her head as she considered. “I like it,” she announced. “But not just for here on the plantation. I want to be Amber Lou forever.”
“Amber Lou it is then,” Eddie agreed. “It’s a fine name.”
The wagon rolled forward in silence for a while. They had talked with Spencer for the first several hours, but now that the plantation was growing closer, the tension closed down all idle conversation. The roads were still hard from frost, but the tight grip of winter had been released. There might be another snowfall, but the cold would not return with such a brutal vengeance. In less than a month, the grass would begin to green and the trees would begin to bud.
“You scared, Daddy?” Carl asked.
Eddie stared down at his little boy looking up at him with eyes wise beyond his age. At ten years old, he had experienced far more than he should have. Eddie didn’t pretend not to know what Carl was talking about, and he didn’t attempt to gloss it over. “I reckon I am, son. It’s going to be real hard to tell Moses and his mama and sister about Sadie.”
Carl nodded. “They’s gonna be real sad,” he agreed. “They also gonna be real sad about Sadie Lou and Susie and Zeke. I reckon they loved them a whole bunch, too.”
“They sure did,” Opal agreed. She sat straighter in the seat as they turned in through the brick pillared entrance to the plantation. It had been their choice to deliver the news in person. She was glad they had come. She knew the telling would be hard, and she knew the grief would be strong, but she also knew being on the plantation for a week would be good for all of them. In spite of her dread of what was coming, there was nowhere she would rather be right now.
Moses was just coming in from the barn where the men were repairing equipment when he heard the rattle of carriage wheels. He stiffened, wondering if they were about to receive another visit from the men who had come on New Year’s Day. He relaxed almost immediately, doubting they would come in a carriage — they would arrive on horseback so they could disappear quickly. Curious now, he lengthened his stride.
Rose stepped out on the porch, bundled warmly in a thick coat, just as he reached the house. “Do I hear a carriage?”
Moses nodded. “Done with school?”
“Yes. I just got home. I let the children out a little early today because it is still so cold. June and Polly were treating their last patients when I left. They won’t be far behind me. Hardly anyone came to the clinic today, but about an hour ago two women came in complaining of stomach pain. June was mixing up an herbal remedy for them when I left. They have drugs for stomach pain, but Carrie says the herbal remedy works best.” Rose fell silent as the carriage appeared in the distance.
“Were you expecting someone?” Moses asked, even though he knew Rose would have told him. Her questioning eyes gave him his answer.
“Who that be?” Annie asked, stepping out onto the porch.
Moses shook his head. “I have no idea, Mama, but I reckon we’re about to find out.”
The three of them stood quietly as the carriage grew closer. The horses stopped grazing and lifted their heads.
“Moses! Rose! Miss Annie!”
Moses’s eyes narrowed as the cries rose into the air. “Carl?” he muttered. “Is that Carl?”
Rose stepped to the edge of the porch and shaded her eyes with her hand. “It is,” she muttered. “What in the world are Opal, Eddie and the kids doing here?”
“They done gone to Philadelphia,” Annie said. “What they be doing here?”
“We’ll get our answers soon,” Moses said reassuringly, trying to ignore the clench in his stomach but seeing the same trouble he was feeling reflected in his mama’s eyes.
All of them hurried off the porch when the carriage rolled to a stop.
“Hello! Hello!” Amber cried as she clambered out of the carriage. “We’ve come to visit!”
Rose caught the little girl close in her arms for a warm hug. “It’s wonderful to see you!” Her eyes met Opal’s, her heart sinking at the pain she saw etched on her face. She caught Amber’s hand and then reached for Carl’s. “Let’s go inside where you can get some hot chocolate and cookies.” She knew instinctively that Opal and Eddie had not come just for a visit. The agony in Eddie’s eyes as he looked at Annie said the news was for Moses and his mama to hear first.
“Cookies!” Carl cried, as he jumped from the carriage. He stopped and looked up into Annie’s eyes. “I be real sorry, Miss Annie,” he said gravely, and then turned to dash up the stairs.
Annie waited until he had disappeared into the house with Rose and Amber before she turned to Opal and Eddie, her eyes questioning.
Moses helped Opal down from the carriage, shook hands with Eddie and Spencer, and then took a deep breath. “What happened?” Then he remembered how cold it was. “I’m sorry. We should go in the house first.”
Eddie stayed where he was standing. “I’d rather the kids not hear us talk about it again. They lived it. I don’t want them to keep hearing about it.”
Annie stiffened. “Lived what? What happened, Eddie? Where be Sadie and Sadie Lou?”
Opal reached down to take Annie’s hands. “We wanted to tell you ourselves,” she said, her voice trembling. “There was a real bad fire at the restaurant. There was an explosion…” Her voice ground to a halt as she looked at Eddie helplessly.
“Sadie and Sadie Lou are dead,” Eddie finished for her, his voice and face twisted with pain. “Susie and Zeke, too,” he managed, his voice barely louder than a whisper.
Moses froze, denial exploding in his head. “Dead? All of them? All four of them are dead?”
Annie stared at Eddie wildly, her eyes wide with shock. “My Sadie be dead? And the rest? Dead?”
Opal gripped her hands more tightly. “It was a horrible accident,” she said. “The roof caught fire when it was so cold. Zeke and Janie got Amber and Carl out, and then Zeke went back in to help Susie get Sadie and Sadie Lou.” She shook her head, her eyes bright with pain. “The girls were right behind me when we got out. I don’t know what happened,” she whispered. She continued, her voice wavering. “The fire reached the oil vats…”
Moses closed his eyes, trying to block the image of the explosion. “After all the years surviving slavery,” he muttered, “and she is killed by a fire?” Grief blurred his eyes as his brain tried to make sense of what he was hearing.
Rose slipped out to stand by his side, her own eyes filled with grief. Susie had been like a sister to her after the year of living together in the contraband camp. She reached down and gripped Moses’s hand. He gazed down at her, but she wasn’t sure he was aware she was there.
“I’m glad she was free…”
Moses looked at his mama, overwhelmed to see a measure of peace mixed with the torment etched on her face. “What, Mama?”
“I’m glad she was free,” Annie repeated softly. “She gone far too soon, but I be real glad she didn’t die as a slave. She died free.” Her eyes sought Opal’s for reassurance.
“She loved being free,” Opal agreed quietly. “She and Sadie Lou were in school, doing real well. They had both decided to be teachers.” She locked eyes with Rose. “They wanted to be just like you,” she said. Then she looked back at Annie. “Your Sadie was real happy.”
“The explosion?” Moses asked. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he had to ask.
“It happened so fast,” Eddie said quickly, evidently knowing exactly what he was thinking. “I don’t believe any of them felt a thing.”
“They were together?” Annie asked.
Eddie nodded. “They were together,” he confirmed, his voice catching as he remembered finding their burned bodies close together.
“I’m glad she weren’t alone,” Annie whispered.
; “I’m so sorry,” Opal said. “So very sorry…”
Annie shook her head. “You didn’t start that fire, Opal.” She heaved a heavy sigh. “There ain’t no making sense of death. It didn’t make sense that my Sam died when they hung him from that tree.” She fixed her eyes on Eddie. “It don’t make no sense how your Fannie died. And now it don’t make no sense how all these fine children died.”
Moses stared at his mama, wondering where her strength was coming from. Sadie had been her life for so long, the one child she had left after Moses and June had been sold off into slavery. June…
Rose thought it at the same time. “June,” she whispered.
Annie looked off into the distance where they could see the plantation carriage just rounding the bend. “Y’all go on inside where it be warm. I’ll tell June about her baby sister.”
“Mama,” Moses protested.
Annie held up her hand. “It be my baby that died in that fire. We all gonna grieve, but it be my job to tell June she lost her little sister.” She managed a small smile. “I’m just real glad they had time together after all them years apart before my Sadie died.” She stood straighter as she took Moses’s hand. “You go in and get ever’body settled.” Then she turned to Opal. “I don’t figure you’re here just for the night.”
“We’re here for a week,” Opal answered.