Lilly

by Madelyn Bennett Edwards

  "Is there?" he asked blowing the words into my mouth. "Chemistry?"

  "Yes." I breathed into his voice. There was a sound like wind whirling and the smell of evergreen and musk. I inhaled deeply and sighed. "Chemistry. Yes." We kissed a little longer then I pulled away. "But slow, okay?"

  "Okay." He sat up straight. I got off his lap and returned to my seat on the sofa. "I'd better go. I have an early morning."

  He kissed me goodnight at the door, then walked off and didn't turn back for a last look.

  *

  It was still early when Josh left. I took a shower, dressed for bed, and felt wide awake so I sat at my desk and thought about Catfish telling me about the trouble in the Vans’ marriage. He would talk like he'd been there himself, even though most of these stories were handed down by his grandmother and other older people in the Quarters.

  When I wrote the stories, I had to write the way he spoke, with that distinct drawl; it was the only way the stories jumped off the pages.

  "Maureen told everyone in the Quarters that Mr. Van doted on that little boy, Mr. Henry," I could hear Catfish say. "Probably because Henry would be his only child, since his wife wouldn't sleep with him no more 'cause she didn't want no more children." Catfish would swing back and forth in his rocker as he relayed the saga Maureen told his granny that was passed down through the family in the Quarters.

  Lil Henry

  1860-1938

  Before little Mr. Henry started to walk, Mr. Van was taking the boy with him to the fields. That big ole man be putting that boy in the saddle between those long legs, holding the baby round the waist with one arm. When the Missus wasn't busy, she took to her chambers and read books. She’d come downstairs during the day when Mr. Van was in the fields or in town and, sometimes, when he was in his study. Maureen said she busied herself with dinner menus, lists, and trips to town for personal supplies and was still decorating that house. Didn't look like it would have needed too many decorations to me, but I guess that's what a woman does when she's got nothing else to do.

  Maureen said that Mrs. Van had carpenters in the house most of the time. First she had them wall off Mr. Van's old room and made it a guest room Then she went and had that wall taken down to enlarge the space for her new Queen Anne desk and other furnishings that made it a woman's suite with an office. What kind of woman needs an office, I ask you? But then, that was Mrs. Van.

  Mr. Gordon got him some men to remodel the nursery while Mrs. Van was pregnant. After the two had that fight about Mrs. Van slapping Lizzie and Ellie, Mr. Van went to living in the room attached to the nursery on the west side, which was the front of the house. Soon he had carpenters up there every day and he wouldn't let no one go near. He had moved his bed into the nursery and slept near little Henry's bed. It took about a month and when Maureen and Lizzie went up to clean and dust they saw the changes.

  The entire front of the upstairs was a huge set of rooms. There was a grand entrance with double doors that led into a foyer. To the right was Mr. Henry's nursery. To the left was Mr. Van's bedroom and closet, with a big desk set under the front windows. Between the two rooms was a hall with a big bathroom on one side and a smaller one on the other. In the big one was a huge copper tub and a washdown closet that we now call a flush toilet. In the smaller bathroom was another washdown and a sink.

  Maureen said it was really something to see. Mr. Van's bed was high up off the floor so he had the men build three steps at the foot so Mr. Henry could climb in with his daddy if he got scared at night. Maureen said most mornings when she brought breakfast up, little Henry was in Mr. Van's bed, sometimes sound asleep, and Mr. Van would be sitting in his wing-backed chair near the window, reading the newspaper.

  Maureen said Mrs. Van got herself a new washdown water closet and tub installed in the hall that joined her bedroom to her new office. She got them carpenters to make two guest rooms across the hall, on the north side of the house that faced towards town. They put a water closet in between—even though they was never no guests come to Shadowland. Mrs. Van didn't even invite her mother to come stay, because Maureen said, the Missus didn't want her mama to know about her new marriage arrangement.

  At Christmas time, Mrs. Van went to Oakwold for a visit and she didn't take Mr. Henry. Maureen said she don't know if she wanted him or not but Mr. Gordon and little Henry had their first St. Nicholas together at Shadowland Plantation. All the workers were invited to come up to the big house and have food and drinks on Christmas Eve.

  Now, from what I hear, that was quite a celebration and all the slaves, I mean workers, dressed in their best and cleanest clothes and the way they tell it, they was eggnog and cakes and all sorts of food. And they was bags of fruits and nuts for each of them to take home. And Mr. Van gave ever man five dollars and all the womens and children each a crisp dollar bill. My granddaddy was a teenager then and, through the years, he'd tell about that Christmas like it was the best, most magical night of his life.

  Things didn't get no better between Mr. Van and the Missus and eventually, she'd go visit her people in Evergreen and stay a month or more. Maureen said everything ran much better when the Missus wasn't around. When Mr. Henry was about four, Mrs. Van went to Oakwold for Christmas as usual, and didn't come back. That summer, Mr. Van got papers from a lawyer that he signed and sent back. About a year later we found out Mrs. Van married that man she'd been cadoodling with before she met Mr. Van. I don't know did they ever have kids. I don't think that woman was fit to raise no kids.

  Anyway, Mr. Van got little Henry and, far as I know, that boy didn't ever see his mama again. Didn't matter none 'cause he had lots of mamas: Anna Lee, Maureen, and Lizzie, for sure. Ellie went to Oakwold with Mrs. Van and when the missus didn't come back, Ellie didn't come back neither.

  I put my pen down and yawned. I wondered about divorce. It was a scandal in those days, and it was something that I'd been raised to believe was a mortal sin. I didn't want to get married if I thought it might end in divorce. But then, I wasn't considering marriage, not since Rodney left me practically standing at the altar.

  It was almost three in the morning, but it was Saturday so I could sleep in. I crawled in my bed and slept like a rock.

  *

  When the phone started ringing, I thought I was dreaming, and I turned over and pulled my pillow over my head. But the ringing continued, and finally I turned and looked at the clock—nine o'clock.

  I jumped from my bed and ran to the kitchen. By the time I got to the phone, the caller had given up. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and it started ringing again.

  "Hello?"

  "Susie, it's Joe. Can you come out to the house?"

  "Well, uhm. Sure, Joe. When?"

  "How about now?"

  I dressed quickly, put my hair in a ponytail and almost ran to the bus stop.

  Emma was sitting in the living room. She looked pale and drawn, but was smiling. I was out of breath and scared, my heart pounding and tears stinging the backs of my eyelids. I stood there and looked at her. I couldn't speak.

  "I'm sorry Joe upset you." Emma reached out for me and took my hand. "I tried to call you back to tell you to take your time, but there was no answer. Guess you'd already left." I sat on the sofa with a plop. My purse was in my lap and I hugged it as though it could protect me from whatever news I was about to hear.

  "Well?"

  "Joe and I were wondering whether you'd like to take Lilly with you to Louisiana. It would help us out. It looks like I'm going into the hospital for a few days."

  "What's wrong?"

  "They want to run some tests." She put her arm around me and I practically fell into her lap.

  "I don't have to go to Louisiana, Emma. I can stay here with Lilly, or keep her at my apartment."

  "You need to go see your dad. Remember, you only…"

  "Get one. I know." We didn't talk for a while. I was thinking about my options. Emma was waiting for me to tell h
er what I was going to do so she could make plans to go to the hospital. It was all too much.

  "Look. I'll take Lilly home with me for the weekend. I have to talk to Mr. Mobley on Monday and it will take a few days to make travel arrangements. You do what you need to do and I'll take care of Lilly. Just don't worry."

  "Okay. But I'm not going in the hospital unless you promise me you will go to see your dad. I could never forgive myself if you didn't get to see him, and he, well you know…"

  "Died?"

  "Well, yes, and all because you stayed here for me. Put my mind at ease, Susie. Please."

  "Okay, okay. We'll go. But you have to know how worried I am about you."

  "I'm not going anywhere but to the hospital. I'll be here when you get back."

  "Promise?"

  "Promise."

  Chapter Twelve

  ***

  Louisiana

  Marianne was waiting for us when our plane landed in Baton Rouge the following Thursday. I walked into baggage claim holding Lilly's hand and saw Marianne's expression go from surprise to resignation in a matter of seconds. I wanted to laugh at her reaction but there was too much turf to cover.

  "Lilly, this is my best friend, Marianne. Marianne, Lilly."

  "Well, hello Lilly. It's a pleasure." Marianne looked up at me with a big question mark on her face and I shrugged, coyly, and grinned.

  "Hi," Lilly curtsied and Marianne got to her knees and grabbed Lilly in a big bear hug.

  "You are way too cute, Miss Lilly." Marianne let go of Lilly and held her at arms' length, eye-to-eye.

  "Thank you, ma'am." Lilly curtsied again and smiled.

  "Oh, my God, Susie, where did you find this precious child?" Marianne looked up at me.

  "Lilly's parents let her come with me since we'll only be here a few days. I hope it's okay?" I was grinning.

  "It's great. My sisters and cousins will love you, Lilly." Marianne looked at Lilly.

  "If you're Susie's friend, does that mean you're my friend, too?" Lilly wrapped her arms around Marianne's neck as if they were old friends and I laughed at how innocent and loving she was at five years old.

  "Aren't you precocious? Of course it does." Marianne hugged Lilly again and looked at me over her curly brown locks. I shrugged and smiled, proud of Lilly for being so grown-up, yet innocent at the same time.

  "What's pre-coh-shuss?" She pulled away and looked at Marianne.

  "It means wonderful." Marianne was still on one knee and Lilly hugged her again, then came back to my side and put one arm around my leg.

  "I like our friend," Lilly looked up at me and I winked at her.

  "I knew you would. Now let's go get our luggage." I reached out to hug Marianne and Lilly ran off to the baggage carousel that had just begun to turn and spit suitcases onto the conveyor belt. She was mesmerized and forgot Marianne and I were there.

  "Where's Lucy?" I was pulling my bag off the carousel and Lilly was watching the luggage go round and round in amazement.

  "She's working. You'll meet her tonight."

  "Thanks for driving all the way to Baton Rouge to get us. We could have taken the bus to Jean Ville."

  "No problem. I wanted time with you, but I guess our conversation will have to wait."

  "Lilly will fall asleep in the car. She's exhausted. She was too excited to sleep on the plane."

  "What gives?" Marianne looked at me, then at Lilly. "I mean?"

  "I'm friends with her parents and her mother is sick. I'm helping out." I tried to avoid Marianne's inquisitive look and ignored the way she stared at Lilly as if trying to figure out where she'd seen that face before. We walked to the parking lot, Marianne with my bag, me holding Lilly's hand in one of mine, her duffle in my other. I pulled her stuffed Pooh out of the duffle and handed it to her when I laid her down on the back seat of Marianne's Datsun.

  "Is this new?" I was admiring the gold, four-door car that looked like a miniature station wagon.

  "About a year, I guess."

  "Fancy."

  "Yeah. I'm doing okay." She was about to open her car door and our eyes met over the top of the little sedan.

  "I'm so proud of you, Mari."

  "Thanks, Susie-Q. I'm proud of you, too." We got in our separate doors and soon were headed north on Highway 190. Lilly went right to sleep and Marianne and I whispered on and off for the next two hours. I told her about Emalene's undiagnosed illness and explained how worried I was, and how Emma and Joe had become family and helped fill the hole left by Rodney. I told her that I spent lots of time with Lilly and I really loved her. We also talked about my job.

  "At first I was bored," I pulled down the visor hoping there was a mirror so I could apply some lipstick, but nope. I flipped it back up and turned slightly towards Marianne. "The publishing company where I work mostly publishes textbooks, but several months ago I convinced my boss, Mr. Mobley, to take on a memoir written by a new author, Phillip Agee. It's about the CIA and called Inside the Company. I think it will do well, and if it does, maybe Shilling will agree to publish similar books"

  I told Marianne that I was mostly relegated to line-editing textbooks, but with memoirs and nonfiction written more descriptively, almost like novels, my boss had pretty much given me free rein to find books that we should consider and bring them to him. I acted like an in-house agent, reading manuscripts and interviewing authors to determine whether the books they submitted were a good fit for our publishing house. He then had to take them to a committee that made the ultimate decision.

  "I think Shilling will publish The Catfish Stories." I tried not to act as excited as I was.

  "So you waited all this time to tell me the best news of all. That's wonderful. When?" Marianne tried to look at me a couple of times but was driving and paying attention to the highway.

  "I don’t know. I'm afraid if I talk about it, it won't happen. I'm crossing all my fingers and toes." I was laughing.

  "Please let me know. I'll come to New York for your book launch."

  "Would you, really? You've never come to visit me."

  "Well, this will be a momentous occasion I wouldn't miss." She smiled and I knew she was genuinely proud of me, also proud her grandfather’s stories would finally be in print. She drove in silence for a while.

  "What about your love life. It's been over a year since… Rodney." Marianne stared out the front windshield and I looked at her profile. She was so beautiful. Her burgundy hair was wavy and full, although she'd cut it to shoulder length. She had a small nose and big eyes that were almost violet in color, a combination of green and hazel, with a bit of blue. The only features that tied her to the Negro race were her full lips and deep forehead. Her hair was curly, but not frizzy, and her eyes were set a bit far apart—the shape of almonds, almost oriental.

  The fact that my dad had fathered her still boggled my mind, and I knew she didn't want to accept it. She hated him more than anything or anybody because he had taken advantage of her mother at such an early age and never acknowledged Marianne as his child.

  "More like a year and a half," I quipped and tried to laugh, but it came across as a weak joke. "I've been seeing someone, but it's not serious. I mean we've only kissed a couple times."

  "What's his name?"

  "Josh. Josh Ryan. He's a doctor. I knew him years ago, then we lost touch. He's friends with Lilly’s parents, Emma and Joe, and it's comfortable."

  "I'm glad, Susie. You need to move on. Rodney… well."

  "Please, can we not talk about him?" She didn't say anything else, but I knew she had something important to tell me that I wasn't ready to hear. "Tell me about you. And Lucy."

  "It's still hard to be, well, you know…"

  "Gay?"

  "Yeah. It's hard to have a relationship with someone who is your gender, especially in such a small town. Most people think we are best friends. And we are. It's just that I get lots of questions about why I'm not dating anyone a
nd when will I settle down and have kids and stuff like that."

  "I'm sorry it's so hard. Have the two of you thought about moving to a city?"

  "We talk about it but I can't leave Mama."

  We drove in silence until we crossed the Atchafalaya River from Pointe Coupée into Toussaint Parish. I inhaled deeply and when I exhaled I inadvertently let out a moan.

  "What's wrong?" Marianne reached over and patted my leg.

  "Lots of emotions." I thought about the last time I crossed the river, going the other way, thinking my entire life was ahead of me and that I'd spend it married to Rodney. I also thought about how close I was to Jean Ville and, although I was eager to see my siblings, I was afraid to face my dad. The last time I saw him, he had beat me. Now I was going to see him on his sick bed.

  "Your dad? I hear he's not doing very well."

  "What do you know about his condition?"

  "Maybe my mama should tell you what she knows. She's at their house every day and helps take care of him. It's ironic, isn't it?" She let the last words come out as a whisper. I would never learn to accept what I considered a love triangle—Mama and Tootsie, Daddy and Tootsie, Mama and Daddy. Then there was me, and James and Will and Robby and Sissy and Albert; finally, there was Marianne. We Burton kids had two Mamas—Tootsie and Anne Burton. I guess Daddy liked them both.

  Marianne didn't seem angry about my dad, like she had when I would mention him in the past. I was surprised.

  "Have you accepted it?" I was really asking whether she had accepted that my dad was her dad.

  "I've had to accept a lot of things. I've decided to accept that he is my biological. That's as far as I'll ever go with that bastard."

  "Don't blame you."

  "I hope he dies." Marianne gasped at her own statement. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that out loud."

  "It's okay. I get it. I won't miss him, either. He's a mean, angry person." We both sat with that thought and I knew we'd never need to discuss him again. We'd said it all; there was nothing more and it was a waste of time and energy to talk about him.