He straightened from talking with his daughter. “Time for Little Country to get out of the city.”
“I don’t know. I have to get home in time…”
“You will. It will only take a few hours. When you said you couldn’t possibly go with me on a Sunday since God said no…well, what about a Thursday?”
“Yeah! My Daddy is so smart.” His daughter bolted for his legs and wrapped herself about them tightly as he pulled her into his arms that much closer.
Yes. This was the perfect idea, if Nettie would agree.
“Well, lead on then, Mr. Evans.”
And he enjoyed watching Nettie putting on all of her apparel. Gloves, one at a time, fastening the button at her dainty wrists, and then placing her hat on top of a cloud of dark-black hair that was always neatly pinned up, never down.
She had too much hair to wear it short as some other women, even Negro ones, were doing. Her hair came together in a neat bun at the back of her neck and she patted it a lot when she got nervous or scared.
She was patting it now and Jay wondered—what was she nervous about now?
One more mystery to intrigue him. He looked forward to unraveling it.
Why did Jay want her to go with them? Was this an appropriate thing for Nettie to do as Goldie’s nanny?
Well, here she was, in the car, going with them, so it had to be okay.
Driving farther along the Pittsburgh roads, there were fewer and smaller houses as they continued on. The amount of trees and green increased. It was beautiful. Much, much better than the Hill. Certainly better smelling. She took in a deep breath.
“Like the fresh air?”
“Smells more like home.”
She leaned back in the luxurious roadster and sniffed the air, which didn’t really smell like anything, but allowed her to relax just a bit more. This place wasn’t the dangerous place where her sisters told her not to stop for anything, but some other place. A better place.
“It stinks like cows on the farm, Miss Nettie, but when you run around a bit, you get used to it.”
“Well, that’s not stinky to me. That’s what I grew up with.”
“A place that smelled like cows?”
“Well, some of it. Most of the town smelled like bitter pecans. They would use the shells to burn as fuel for the towel mill. Everything there was clean smelling before that mill came to town.”
“Sounds as if you don’t care for progress, Miss Nettie.” Mr. Evans kept his attention focused on the road, but still maintained a hint of teasing in his voice.
“I have nothing against progress. I do have a problem when man takes nature that was perfectly okay to begin with and messes it up to enrich himself. It’s a crime to me.”
“Well, the Hill has been around for some time. Always was kind of a city.”
She shook her head. “It’s happening more and more in the South. One of the reasons a lot of us are trying to get away.”
He turned down a road and the houses got bigger, broader and farther apart. She couldn’t help but be stunned. “This is lovely.”
“We’re just a little ways away.”
“I really want to know. Why do you have this out here?”
His eyes clouded over. “I bought it a few years ago. A place for me and Gold to escape to after…Clara. There was an older immigrant couple in the Hill who never played the game, but always spoke to me so nicely. They wanted a farm. So, I formed a partnership with them so they could leave the city. They keep this up for all of us. It works out.”
“You should have come out here to get better when you got shot.”
“The farther away I am from the game, the more dangerous it is. Someone could take it over. If they do, it’s very likely that another person might try to finish what Joe Griffiths started.”
His voice went so low her skin prickled. She knew he was speaking so that Goldie didn’t hear, but Nettie wasn’t sure she hadn’t. That child heard and understood everything. For Goldie’s sake, Nettie kept silent as they continued to drive until he turned into a driveway, even though she was burning with curiosity.
“Here we are.”
He drove down a long road and parked his roadster next to a building that looked like a barn. An older gentleman came running out.
“Jay, good to see you. Looks like they got you a bit in the arm there.”
“They did.”
The older gentleman shook his head. “Erma is not going to like that. But who is this with you?”
“This is Garnet Bledsoe. She’s Goldie’s nanny. Just for now.”
“Hello, my dear. Welcome.”
These people were very nice, but they were…white. For what she had seen in the Hill she thought mostly Negroes lived there. How could a Negro man like Jay be in business with a white couple? She’d heard what he said about an immigrant couple, but it really hadn’t registered what that meant. Anyway, he didn’t seem to feel fear of them. Goldie surely didn’t when she ran out of the car and went to the man named Daniel Marsh and hugged him.
A small lady with gray hair stood in the doorway. “What are you doing here, Jay? On a Thursday, with this Miss not in school?”
“The school there is on shifts because it is so crowded. She’s off until Easter. And I just wanted to show, um, Goldie’s nanny what it looks like out here. She can’t come out here on Sundays.”
The woman identified as Erma stepped forward. “Why ever not?”
“It’s the Lord’s Day, ma’am.” She extended her hand to shake Erma’s. She stilled her hand from trembling because she’d never shaken hands with a white person before, but she got the feeling that she should greet the woman in some way.
The woman stepped off of the porch and came closer to where she stood next to the car. All of a sudden, before she knew it, the woman embraced her with arms of steel. “Thank you, thank you, Lord. You’re an answer to prayer. Praise him!”
“Oh my.” Nettie took in a sharp breath, unable to breathe.
The woman pulled back from Nettie, staring into her face, her breath smelling of sweet mints. “She’s lovely.”
“I’m the nanny, ma’am.”
“You’re a lovely nanny, my dear.”
Old Daniel waved her off. “Nanny, my foot.”
“We just ate lunch, but we would be right proud to have you stay for dinner.”
“Oh. That’s lovely.”
Jay laughed and stepped forward. “I’ll give her the tour. Come on, Miss Net.”
Jay took her into the barn that was well maintained housing eight cows. The barn looked so much like her father’s that she got a lump in her throat. At the same time, she couldn’t cry because Goldie was running around naming the cows and patting them.
“This is wonderful. It’s wonderful that Goldie knows what this is all about.” She punched Jay on his good arm. “And you call me Little Country. You’re country yourself.”
“Well, I’ve only wanted to do what was best for her.”
She stared off into the distance. “Are you sure we can’t eat the sandwiches you bought? I’ve never had dinner with anyone white before.”
Jay came forward and patted her hand. “No need to be afraid. It will be all right.”
“Do they know what you do?”
“I have no need to be ashamed of what I do, Miss Nettie.”
“Of course not. I didn’t mean—”
“I’ll show you the pasture.” Loosening his tie, Jay stomped off to the other edge of the barn, away from her.
What did he expect from her?
Goldie sidled up to Nettie and slipped a hand into hers. “Better stay close. There’s a lot of land out behind here and you don’t want to get lost. Even if it’s a nice day.”
“Thank you.”
She followed, but didn’t know what to make of
Jay’s reaction to her statements. The unease stole across her heart and made it hurt for a minute. Then it struck her.
She cared, maybe too deeply, if she hurt Jay’s feelings.
Chapter Nine
Could she say or do anything right? There was something about this day that stirred her. Best to start from scratch. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing, Miss Nettie?” A beautiful smile crossed Jay’s features, and it made her heart lurch because what she was going to say might hurt him more.
“Your wife. The way she died.”
And it did. Just as if the sun had gone behind a cloud. “When someone leaves you, it’s as if…as if you have to figure out how to continue without that person. It’s hard. Very hard. And you wonder sometimes. If it is all worth it if you are just going to lose in the end.”
His confession took her by surprise. She was not expecting to hear those words from Jay. She thought it was going to be more about the horrible nature of the revival, religion, something. No. And somehow, the love he had for his wife made him more real to her. Certainly not a criminal.
He had brought out a blanket and after walking around to inspect the area to make sure it was clean, spread it out on the ground. “Have a seat.”
“It’s lovely out here. I don’t blame you for wanting to come out here. I appreciate you bringing me along in the middle of the week to accommodate my need for church.”
“You’ve accommodated my daughter and me in your life. I appreciate that.”
She lowered her head. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s everything. You have no idea.”
“I didn’t mean to interfere. It made me so mad when I saw Eva—”
“I’ve not been doing right by my daughter. It was wrong of me to shortchange her, a gift from Clara. You made me see that.”
His eyes lowered to her hand, staring at it with the intense heat of the sun of Nettie’s home state. As if he wanted to pick it up or touch it. She pulled her hand back onto her lap, but that only transferred his gaze there, and she certainly could not have him looking in that direction. The thought made her move her gaze away from her gray skirt to where Goldie frolicked and played in the grass.
She tugged at her gloves a bit, but didn’t take them off. “It does my heart good to see her there. Like that.” In a way she never could play when she was Goldie’s age, sick in bed. “What was Clara like?”
Jay folded up one knee and leaned on it, looking perfectly relaxed. And very handsome. Maybe that was the way to think about it. Keeping his focus and hers on Clara’s memory would help them both.
“She was a gentle soul.”
“Did she like you being a part of the game?”
“Boleto is all we knew in New York. I sent for her once I was established here.”
She followed the trail of his gaze.
“It’s all we were allowed to do to get ahead.”
She folded her hands in her lap. “If the game were gone, what would happen?”
“I have no idea.”
“You seem to be a man of many talents.”
“If I were a white man I would be a stockbroker in the New York Stock Exchange.”
Her eyes blinked fast at his expressed thought.
“Would you wish that?”
“No.”
His answer was emphatic and she was glad. He certainly didn’t strike her as someone who would wish to be what he wasn’t.
“I’m just saying I could do it. It would be a fulfilling life. And I know I could do it. I’d be wracking up the money. But it seems I’m destined to help other people. One thing I’ve longed to do is bring some of this green back to the Hill. There are a lot of broken-down places there. There’s a ball park, but it’s off limits to the neighborhood. And it shouldn’t be. If people had a green place to go—”
“There’s a ball park? For baseball.” She echoed.
He grasped her arm. “What do you know about the great game?”
She could tell that he was excited. She was too. “It was what I loved to do when I was a little girl. Around Goldie’s age.” Before the sickness. Before she had to stay in bed all of the time. Baseball was freedom for her. Or it used to be.
“You used to play?”
“Such a very long time ago. I would join the mill children when they played during their breaks.”
“Mill children?”
“Yes. The children of the mill workers. Paul Winslow would hire them to pick up the fallen bobbins on the floor. When the workers got their breaks and the machines fell silent, the children would get bored and start playing baseball. I would go pitch to them.” Pitching was the position where she could stay in one place and not move.
“You, Miss Nettie? Pitch?”
“It was all so long ago. And only a few times, but so memorable. But I think your idea would be wonderful. One reason I was so excited to come here was that I wanted to see the Crawfords and Pirates play. There’s lots of baseball in Pittsburgh.”
“And you will. I’ll see to it.”
Goldie ran up to them, out of breath. “I’m hungry. Should I get the sandwiches from the car?”
“Miss Erma invited us to dinner. If we eat the sandwiches we won’t be hungry for that.”
“Okay. Well, let’s get back to the house and tell her to hurry up.”
She snapped her fingers. “Goldie. That would be rude.”
“There’s got to be a way to tell her, Miss Nettie.”
She folded herself on her knees and regarded the girl. “We can offer to help. How about that?”
“Okay.” Goldie lowered her head. “Come on.”
The little girl was off on a streak to the house before they could even understand where she had gone, and they both laughed at Goldie’s speed.
“I guess I ran like that at one time,” She said without thinking.
“We all may have.”
The laughter thinned out and there was an uncomfortable silence between them. “May I help you up?”
“Thank you.”
She reached out to Jay and thanked the heavens above she had gloves on so that her hand didn’t have to touch his directly. He helped her to her feet, his hand squeezing hers ever so slightly.
In the squeeze, she knew reassurance. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Anytime. And we are going to make sure you see the world champs Craws play. And the Buccos too.”
Her eyes shone. “I look forward to that. As a rite of spring.”
Nettie reached down to fold up the blanket. Jay helped her then looped the blanket over his arm. Together, in silence, they worked their way back to the farmhouse for a delicious meal of pork cutlets and cabbage that Miss Erma had promised.
There was an entirely different side to this man. Nettie had been wrong to judge him. He had a good heart and a strong mind. He wanted to do right.
Was she there to guide him back to a better, safer way to lead his life?
She hoped so.
When Jay stepped through the side doors of Freedom Christian the next day, somebody in the charity kitchen dropped some plates. He was not surprised. He often had that effect on people.
However, what was different today was that he had decided to go up into the sanctuary to help Nettie.
What am I doing here? He whipped out a handkerchief as he faced the steps going up. His custom-made, large handkerchiefs embroidered with his initials were ones he carried out of consideration for other people who needed them, not for himself. He didn’t usually need them, but today, he wiped his forehead and hands. Sweaty hands? This woman had really gotten to him.
Gripping the rail, she headed up, trying so hard but failing to not see those last visions of his Clara as sick and scrawny, one hand in the air, waving, praising her God. When he reache
d the top of the stairs, he saw the sanctuary had changed in the past few years. Standing in the back, he was struck by the richness of the wooden pews, red carpet and stained-glass windows—all reminders of the success of its parishioners.
His eyes searched the room, and soon he saw Nettie bowed over a child in one of the benches. Her forehead was crinkled. Maybe she was doing math, and she needed his help. He had come just in time.
He was about to open his mouth to greet her when a thin, young boy looked up and yelled out, “Hey, it’s Jay the numbers man.”
Other little heads popped up from pews all over. Each child was allotted a pew area to study on. It was a good strategy, now that she was dealing with upwards of forty children, because if the they weren’t willing to do their work and be preoccupied, the pew became a little play/sleep area. The arrangement kept her students separated and out of trouble.
Nettie looked up and her gaze met his. He put his handkerchief away, even though he still felt as if he needed it. She stepped into a side aisle, not the center, and came back to him. She always moved in a very dignified way, but now Nettie moved more quickly than she had before. “Mr. Evans, may I help you?”
“Why yes, Miss Nettie.” He started down the same side aisle that she had just come up. “I was done at the bank and thought I would swing by to help you with your problem.”
“What problem?” she hissed.
He wanted to chuckle at her attempts to keep him quiet, but it wasn’t working. “The math problem. I’m here to help,” he boomed.
“It’s the banker man!” some small child near them yelled out.
Another said, “I got a penny to give you.”
Jay nodded at the child, but eyed him respectfully. “Squirt, you know I only deal with grown-ups.”
“I know, but I thought I would try. I want to hit it big someday.”
“The way that you hit it big, Squirt, is by knowing your math. How you all think I got to be the banker, eh?” He stepped to front of the church, but stopped short of the front. Going up there was taking it too far, so he stopped in the side aisle to talk.
He spoke loudly because he wanted to engage the children’s attention, and to avoid the horrible nervous feeling he had about being in one of the last places where Clara had been, “May I have everyone’s attention, please?”
A Treasure of Gold Page 11