You’ll know better, my little one. I’ll raise you to know better.
Her child wasn’t due until August, maybe September, she guessed. A late summer child. Maybe after that she could go back for a short time, to show her face… Still, what would she do soon when they expected her home in Milford? She just couldn’t show up there with a round belly and a smile. She was the special graduate of the college.
But what about the baby? Would she be able to trust that anyone in Winslow would want to take in her baby while she went back?
She could take the baby back to Milford and say it was an abandoned orphan in Winslow, but no one, absolutely no one, would be fooled by that old excuse. She might as well show up with a big belly.
She just had to make up her mind that when her child had come into the world, she would go far away to teach somewhere else, and start over there as a widow.
Anything, anywhere to get away from Arlo Tucker. He was bad, bad news. But what was Lona Bledsoe saying to her?
The other woman finally spoke, unnerved by her silence.
“Please. Don’t be angry, Miss Baxter. If you knew our background—where we came from, who our parents were—the shame.” Lona Bledsoe turned from side to side, seeing if anyone else was there with them in the classroom. “No one knows about our family, and it’s best that they don’t.”
What did Mrs. Bledsoe mean by that? Arlo never told her anything about that. A well of frustration rose inside Missy. Was it from the baby? “It’s enough that I made the mistake that I did. I did it because I thought I was in love.”
“With Arlo?”
“Yes, with Arlo. I thought we had a lot in common. Wanting to do things for the race. Wanting to see our people progress beyond the confines of a small-minded place such as this one. We talked a lot about those things.”
Or she thought they had. She thought their commonality was meaningful to him. And yet he never said anything to her about the background that his sister referred to. What was that background? What did Lona mean? Could it have anything to do with why he didn’t come to see her anymore?
“Oh, my dear. I don’t know if Arlo is really capable of being in love with someone.” Mrs. Bledsoe folded up her handkerchief. “Besides himself, I mean.”
“I have come to that understanding altogether too late, Mrs. Bledsoe.” Missy straightened some things on her desk and prepared to dismantle it for the weekend, so that the building could become a church once again instead of a schoolhouse.
A shadow across the doorway made the room take on a sudden chill in the heat of the day and she shivered.
“If there’s such a thing as falling in love, Missouri Baxter, I came close to it with you.”
At the sound of his deep voice curling about the room, her heart lurched in complete and utter betrayal. Missy stopped herself from turning around. Because with him being there, standing in the doorway with his sweet smile just for her, she might lose her resolve not to care anymore. She had been fine, just fine without seeing him for these months.
I can do it.
She formed the words of dismissal on her tongue and steeled herself to whip around and form them in her mouth, but they froze in the air. For the sight of this long-limbed, light-eyed, nappy-headed man with the slow smile and quick intelligence was still enough to take her breath away.
The words “Get out of here, you yellow cur” left her thoughts, brain, and understanding entirely. Just as quickly, unfortunately, they also came out of her mouth into the stunned silence of the schoolroom.
Oh yes. He was nothing but trouble for her.
Chapter 2
Arlo ran as fast as he could to the school house after Ruby and her sister came to his place in the woods to tell him what their mother had done. His vision of two women with big bellies fighting did not come to fruition though. He panted with relief when he reached the door of the schoolhouse and saw them in civil conversation with one another. Whew. But then Missy called him a nasty name.
Not like her at all, but not entirely unexpected. He had been down this pathway before, and always managed to negotiate his way away. Only this time, he didn’t want to be away. What could he do to help her to see that he was here now, even if he had been away for a while before?
Arlo moved to her side, to be right there for her but she backed off from him as if he were made of fire. Made sense now that he had burned her. That’s what happened to his women, no matter what his intentions. But he couldn’t stay away from her. He wouldn’t. “Missy, there’s no need for name calling. Ruby and them told me what was happening and I came to see what I could do.”
“Oh, Arlo.” The words of disappointment came from his big sister, filling the space between him and Missy.
Why were the two women he loved most in the world coming together? “Sissy. You should be at home resting. Really. Why are you here?”
“I got up from my bed of affliction to tell Miss Baxter of the board’s decision. We, we have to let her go when this school year is done.” His heart lurched in his chest at this news.
“Is there no end of foolishness in this town? You all are going to fire her for something that’s my fault?”
“I was there too, Arlo.” He loved that she gave him a slight smile. Not all her memories of him were bad. That was quite a change. For him.
“Really. This is just disgraceful. What’re you going to do about this?” Lona made it clear she didn’t care for their exchange just now. But Arlo wasn’t sure. Maybe the thing to do would be to take Missy somewhere away from this backwater gossipy town and set up his place somewhere else where folks weren’t so full of judgment.
“Do?” Missy shifted from one foot to another. “I don’t know if there is anything for him to do, Mrs. Bledsoe. You just fired me from my job.”
Ahh. He had to give Missy that. She was not only the most beautiful woman he had ever met; she could use her mind quick enough as a counterpoint. The feeling of her curves responding to him made him want to go back to those passionate times. She confirmed everything he thought about her when he first laid eyes on the schoolteacher last year. She was something amazing, like a bright star in the heavens.
“You paining me, Miss Baxter.”
“I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Tucker.”
“Anything? Nothing?”
She folded her arms, making her burden much more apparent. “For you to do.”
Yes, the women always got like that. Eyes narrowed, arms folded, mouth all twisted up in disarray. They always started one way with him, with willing smiles and stolen kisses. Only later did they have narrowed eyes when things got too rough …and complicated. “I don’t know about that, now. I may have a say or two in these things.”
“Oh, Arlo,” Lona said, a familiar refrain he had been hearing since he was knee high, “are you going to stand by this woman? Please say yes. I don’t want her to lose her only source of employment.”
“Stand by her? As I am now?”
“No, Arlo.” Lona stamped a thick ankle on the ground. She really should be at home, not here getting up into affairs that were no concern of hers. “You know what I mean. I mean marry her.”
“Marry her?” he echoed. He stood next to Missy, as his sister requested, not even realizing how tall she was next to him. Yes, something about her schoolteacher veneer made him want to take her by her thickened waist and…marry her. Right now.
Except her eyes, those dark eyes in her sweet, smooth brown skin—those eyes had already skewered him for a roast.
“I’m not looking to marry anybody.”
Wait. Had he said the words or had she said them? The words in his mind came out from between her lusciously pink, teasing lips. The lips of a Nubian goddess.
“What did you say?” His sister’s attention turned to the teacher now. Yes, Missy had spoken the words in his mind. Out loud. For his sister to hear.
What wounded more, that she knew what was in his mind already—even before he could think it—or that
she didn’t want to marry him? Was it possible for one thing to wound more than another?
“I said, I’m not looking to marry anybody.” The sway of Missy’s long skirt scraped the floor as she stepped from him.
Which wasn’t what she’d told him. Oh no. That wasn’t what Miss Baxter had said to him. Not at all. When had she changed her mind? And why?
Had someone else been courting the schoolteacher? And he ended up on the losing end? Had someone else been at her house, enjoying her good cooking, laughing with her, talking about how the world was going to change for their race? A low-burning fire started in his belly and threatened to shoot out of him.
Then he saw it.
The slightest quiver. She quivered. For him. She was lying. She still wanted him.
A shard of joy pierced his heart and his chest filled out. Yeah, he still had it. The ability to make the schoolteacher quiver. Not in fear, no, never that. In something else. He still had it.
Now all he had to do was convince her. He was right and that she was…not. First things first. To be alone with her.
“Sissy. You really should be at home, waiting for this new one to come. You’ve not had it easy other times, right?”
“That was all before you came to Winslow, Arlo, and started up all of this mess. I wouldn’t have had to get up to come down here to see what was going on if it hadn’t been for you.”
“Well, let’s get you home. I’ll take care of this situation.”
He strode to his sister, grasped her by the arms to help her heave herself up.
“There’s no situation,” Missy said. “As a matter of fact, I’m glad both of you are leaving. Please don’t misunderstand, Mrs. Bledsoe. If you have any need to come back and speak to me about the girls, please, do that anytime. But not about this. My circumstances are my personal business. Good day to both of you.”
Arlo stared at her pretty lips uttering the condemning words. Did he have the right woman with child in his arms?
“Missy, I’m getting her home and I’m coming right over.”
“No. There’s no coming right over. You haven’t been by in quite a while. I don’t want you to come by now. No, thank you.”
“Oh my.” Lona shuffled herself to the door. “My dear, you must understand that we’re only thinking of the best for the child. And yourself, of course.”
He knew Missy had said it right, though. He’d never met a woman like her. Her mind was just so quick. Everything about her just shone, like a new penny in his pocket. Any man would want her to wife.
If he could keep one.
His hands started to leak sweat, and yet, as he eased his sister from the schoolhouse, part of him felt torn at the way he left her.
Yet again.
“Arlo, you’ve got to do better by her. Close up that place and marry her.”
“Lona, you’ve been after me to close up my place ever since I opened it. I provide a service for folks around here.”
“It’s a service of sin. Winslow is a Christian place.”
“Winslow is a poky place that does just what the white man who runs it tells them to do. That’s what Winslow is.”
“It’s Paul Winslow’s town, named for him. He’s got a right to say whether there should be sinning, drinking, and fornicating going on here.”
“Did your husband John vote him into office? No, I don’t think so. Paul Winslow is the head of this town because he owns the mill. That’s all. And these Negroes down here need to learn that his being the owner of the mill does not make him boss man over me.”
Lona looked all around her as she started her determined waddle back home. Arlo stuffed his hands in his pockets, wishing he could go back to Missy Baxter’s for some of her succulent fried liver and onions. And her laugh. And her good talk when she taught him things.
Didn’t mean he couldn’t try. A man had to try.
~~~
The teacher house stood off a little distance in the woods right next to the schoolhouse, and as he traveled to it, he thought her place was too tucked away. How would a midwife make her way back in here? Miss Annie, the midwife’s name was. He asked around when he was open last weekend. He would check into covering her services when he opened up his good time place again. Folks would tell him anything with that good juice flowing down into their souls.
“Hey. Miss. I’m out here.”
Nothing but silence greeted him for a long time. Then: “Seems like you’ve been walking through open doors all of your life.”
Arlo went to her window and pressed himself up against it, looking in on beautiful Missy sitting in her rocking chair, warming herself by her fireplace. Her lovely hands were gripping the handles of the chair. His heart sank just a bit at the sight. “That’s not true now, Miss. I’ve had some hard, hard times. Like right now.”
A thunderclap sounded in the distant gray skies. Oh Lord.
Maybe if he sounded more like an authority…like old Paul Winslow, she would respond. Negroes still responded like crazy to a white man who talked like an old massa. No wonder old Winslow had no trouble hiring down at his mill. It brought back the good old days for a lot of folks. Just not for him.
“Going to rain out here, Missy. It’s not the time to be out underneath the trees.”
“It surely isn’t.”
He sniffed the air. She had something cooking in there. A rabbit, maybe some kind of stew. Something warm and tasty. A sweet smell of corn sliced the air open under his nose. Help me, Jesus.
“Got enough dinner to share?”
“Maybe.”
“I smell cornbread cooking. How about you give me a square and we can start talking things over.”
“When you ran out of here a few weeks back after I told you what was going on, you didn’t take none of my cornbread in your hand then, Arlo.”
Lord, how he wished he had. She wouldn’t be mad at him and wouldn’t stop him from having a square now. He could taste the sweet crispiness of it. Lona was a fair cook. His niece Mags was a better cook, but she was too young to cook all the time. But Miss Baxter, well now, her skills were something else again. “I’m here to take some up now if I can.”
The rain started to fall on him. It was a light rain at first, but soon enough, fast enough, it got to be torrential.
Arlo frowned at the heavens. “God, you know this isn’t right. I’m trying out here, as only a man can try.” He pounded on Missy’s door. “Come on now, Missy. Let me inside.”
“Go on to your sister’s house.”
“Through this rain? I’ll be soaked before I get there. And in all these trees, I might get struck down by lightning.”
“It would be a sight more than what you deserve, Arlo Tucker.”
“That’s not fair, Missy. Not fair,” he shouted out so he could be heard over the storm. The sun was starting to go down too. Great. He would be out here in the cold and the rain. “I just want us to talk about what’s going to happen, that’s all. We got plans to make.”
He pressed himself up against her house. It had been a long time since he had the inclination to pray, but now seemed just as good a time as any.
Dear Lord, help Missy to see I don’t mean her any harm. I don’t know if I’m the daddy kind of fellow, is all. I can’t do what I don’t know how to do, when I never saw it before. And what if she knew about how I’ve been cursed? And I hurt her or the baby in some kind of way? Who would I be then, Lord? What kind of man would I be?
Maybe if he sang. He knew he had a fine tenor voice. “Sometimes, I feel, like a motherless child…a motherless child, oh, a motherless child…”
The lick of the song started to get good to him, standing there in the pouring wet spring rain with the sun going down. If he could sing good enough to help the rain stop, or good enough to let some sun into Missy’s stubborn, proud heart… Either way, he would win.
Her door swung open and her rounded silhouette jutted out against the sheets of rain pouring in front of her.
“Get
in here and dry off, Arlo. Nothing else. No food. No funny business. Then get on about your way. I don’t have any time for foolishness.”
Arlo danced between the twigs and the leaves that layered on the ground. The rain tended to bring out the brown snakes, and he sure didn’t want his life story to have a sad, sad end.
He stepped inside and she moved around him to shut the door. He removed his hat and a bunch of water dripped off of it onto her clean floor. Missouri made the funniest face—a face they would have both laughed at months ago before all this happened.
She handed him a towel, probably something they made in that horrible mill down in the main part of Winslow. “Don’t drip on my floor.”
“No, ma’am. I surely won’t.”
“As soon as you are dry, you be on your way.”
“I heard you, ma’am. Just one trouble, though.”
He had taken her by surprise. He could tell because she had a little perched-up eyebrow on her face. Good. The teacher shouldn’t have the answers all of the time.
“What’s that?”
“You have something that belongs to me. So, I can’t leave right away, you see. Not till I get what’s mine.”
She must’ve had wings on her feet because before he knew it, she had reached around him and opened the door. With the strength of ten men, she pushed him outside into the rain. The heavens opened up just at that moment and water pelted him, harder and faster, as if the rain were made of small fists, punching him, beating him, showing him their displeasure.
Could it be any clearer that he was a bad-luck curse to every woman in his life? Did he really want that for Missy?
No.
Chapter 3
Five minutes. Ten. Twenty. He stopped knocking on the door after a while. Sometimes, he shouted out a plea like: “Getting mighty cold out.”
The Brightest Day: A Juneteenth Historical Romance Anthology Page 17