“Do I really even matter to you?” she asked coldly.
Ash held her tightly, then kissed her firmly on the mouth. His kiss was almost primal in its ferocity. Kick, scream, fight—that’s what Russell had said. Kitty squirmed harder, and tried to scream. But despite this, Ash kissed her more fiercely.
When Ash finally stopped, Kitty was able to push him away. Breathing hard, she grabbed a knife from the cutting board. She’d used it to chop potatoes, but now pointed the sharp steel blade in Ash’s direction.
“Kitty,” he said incredulously, “put that knife down.” Ash moved toward her slightly, but she thrust the knife at him.
“Stay away from me!”
Ash stood looking at her, unable to speak for a moment. “Kitty--you’re like a different person! What the hell’s gotten into you?”
“Don’t touch me again! And don’t you dare curse at me!”
“I’m only cursing ‘cause you’re not making any damn sense! You’ve never complained before about me touching you!”
“Well—you—you’ve—never touched me like that—like some—rabid dog! You’re no different from any other white man, are you?”
Ash looked at her like she’d gone mad. “What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean!”
“But—Kitty—I thought—”
“You thought wrong! Just because I’m a Negro girl working in your kitchen—that doesn’t give you the right to—to—violate me!”
Ash turned pale. For a moment he looked like he’d been punched in the stomach and couldn’t breathe. “Kitty, you’re—you’re wrong! You know how I feel about you—why would you think—”
“Because you’re white! That’s the only reason I need!”
Suddenly, Kitty saw tears in his eyes. Ash said nothing. He only stood there looking lost and confused. Then, “Kitty,” his face twitched and his voice quavered slightly, “why are you doing this to me?”
At this point Kitty didn’t know why herself. Judging from his reaction, maybe he did care for her. Regardless, she was too confused to speak.
When she didn’t respond, Ash took a deep angry breath. “Just what do you want from me, Catherine?”
That was the first time he’d called her that, and Kitty realized she didn’t like it. She wanted to be Kitty to him. “Don’t touch me again,” she said softly, lowering the knife. “And stay away from me.” Her bravado had turned mouse-like.
Ash’s face flushed bright red. “Fine! You don’t want me to touch you again—I won’t! You don’t want me near you—I’ll stay away!” Ash left the house through the back entrance, banging the door shut.
Kitty’s lower lip trembled. Perhaps, she’d made a mistake.
****
Ash had driven for over an hour with no particular destination in mind. He’d just needed to get away and think. He was hurt and angry, and as he drove by a diner, Ash realized he was hungry, too. He’d never been a drinker, but food would be a good way to drown his sorrows, or at least sop them up a little.
After he’d parked, Ash tightly gripped the steering wheel. Fuming, he gritted his teeth while his mind played through the confrontation with Kitty for the hundredth time. Finally, he climbed from the car and slammed the door.
When Ash walked inside the restaurant, he was greeted by the comforting smell of beef fat and frying potatoes. Ceiling fans whirled around churning grease and cigarette smoke through the air. A buxom woman with bright red hair and gray roots showed him to a booth. As he slid on to the shiny red upholstery, she gave him a menu.
A short while later a pretty waitress welcomed him with a large glass of water, a big smile and a voluptuous set of huge bobbing breasts. Ash guessed her to be around seventeen.
The waitress, a peroxide blond, batted her large blue eyes. “You need a little more time to look at the menu, shug?”
“No.” Ash smiled. “I know just what I want.”
“Alright, shug, what can I getcha?”
“I’ll take two hamburgers, an order of French fries, and an extra thick chocolate milkshake.”
She winked. “I’ll have it for you in jiff, shug.” Ash enjoyed the view as the girl walked away. But then he thought about Kitty—again.
What had he done to her? Nothing! She was the one who’d rubbed Russell in his face yesterday. She’d driven him to the edge, and when he’d kissed her this morning, his feelings displayed that. Although he never would have hurt her, she threatened him like he was a rapist!
In a few minutes, Ash’s waitress returned with his order. As she set down the milkshake, she smiled and said, “It’s extra thick, just like you wanted. I made it myself.”
Ash thanked her, then appraised the food. The burgers were big and fat with blood laced juice seeping from them, and the fries were coated with grease and laden with salt. Ash smothered everything with ketchup, then ravenously dove in. The shake was so stiff he had to eat it with a spoon.
He hadn’t eaten a meal like this in nearly five years, but today he didn’t care. Ash devoured every ounce of food, then licked his fingers in like fashion as all the white trash customers around him did. When he’d almost finished the shake, it was runny enough to drink. He removed the spoon, then turned up the glass and drained it to then last drop.
His attentive waitress immediately returned to clear away his dishes. “Anything else I can get for you, shug?”
“No thanks.” Ash smiled politely, as he unsuccessfully tried to suppress a large burp.
“You sure, shug?” She raised one eyebrow and smiled slyly. “My break’s in ten minutes.”
“If you don’t mind,” Ash smiled, “I’ll just take my check.”
Ash left a large tip, then paid for his meal. Walking to his car, he felt so full of fat, starch and gas, he could barely move. Once behind the wheel, he mulled over what to do next. He started the engine and turned the car around to head back to Joy Hope.
The only reason Kitty had lacerated him with her tongue, Ash assumed, was because of Thomas and Russell. They’d probably said he was white man, only after one thing and no better than a dog. Then Ash wondered if Kitty had told them about what he’d said to her Friday night? Did she laugh about him as she’d explained it? And after that, did Russell and Thomas make fun of him, too?
The whole situation was about to drive him crazy! He loved Kitty, but right now he wanted to strangle her. Ash pushed hard on the accelerator, leaving a trail of dust behind on the unpaved dirt road. With the top down to his red Ford convertible, the cool air cut sharply through his hair.
Ash imagined making love to Kitty, but then became angry again. All the way home, he thought how strongly he felt for her, and how much she’d wounded him.
When Ash entered Joy Hope, something else crossed his mind. Yesterday Miss Joan had mentioned that Lillian Ann’s mother, Miss Trina, was sick. Tomorrow, Miss Trina had planned to go with her daughter to a poetry reading by Bennett Stuart.
Stuart, known for his distinctive Southern style, was a nationally acclaimed poet and a friend of Mother’s. He’d promised to do a reading at her arts center as he passed through town on his way to New York to promote his latest collection, Magnificent Love. With Miss Trina sick, Lillian Ann would either be attending alone, or with some girlfriends. Miss Joan, however, had suggested that Ash escort her. But Ash hadn’t been the least bit interested, and he’d forgotten all about it--until now.
****
Ash rang the bell and waited. Moments later, Alfie, the Thompson’s maid, greeted him. She barely reached Ash’s shoulder, but probably tipped the scales at double his weight. “Why, Mr. Ash!” Alfie said in a sugary sweet voice. “You come right on in!” She opened the door to Lillian Ann’s red brick colonial mansion. The Thompsons lived at the end of Ash’s street. “You here to call on Miss Lillian Ann?” Alfie clasped her hands and smiled broadly.
“Yes ma’am,” Ash replied.
“Well, Miss Lillian Ann’s gonna be pleased to see you! She’s been wonderin’ where you been
keepin’ yo’self hid since the summer started.” She giggled as she led Ash into the living room.
Alfie’s skin was light brown and long lashes framed her large dark eyes. Ash guessed her to be about 50. Despite her girth, she was rather attractive and extraordinarily graceful. As he watched her walk ahead of him, he couldn’t shake from his mind the image of an elephant in a tutu.
“You just sit yo’self down and make yo’self comfortable.”
“Thank you, Alfie. How’s Miss Trina?”
“She’s still feelin’ a might sick. The doctor tol’ her just stay in bed and rest.” Alfie smiled.
“You be sure to tell her I hope she feels better,” Ash said.
“I sure will. She’ll appreciate you askin’ ‘bout her. Now,” her eyes twinkled, “I’ll go fetch Miss Lillian Ann.”
After a few moments, Ash shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He felt like his last meal was about to rupture his insides. He looked at his watch hoping Lillian Ann wouldn’t take too long. He didn’t really want to be here in the first place, and physically, he knew he couldn’t hold out for long.
“Mr. Ash,” Alfie said, as she walked lightly back into the living room, “Miss Lillian Ann’s on her way. Would you like some iced tea while you’re waiting?”
“No thank you, Alfie. I’ll just take a glass of water.”
“I’ll bring it right to you, sir.”
Alfie returned shortly with a tall glass of ice water. Ash thanked her, but still saw no sign of Lillian Ann. He rubbed his stomach and grimaced slightly.
“You feelin’ alright, Mr. Ash?”
“I’m okay, Alfie.” But not for long, he thought. He took a sip of water, then placed the glass on a coaster atop a mahogany end table. “You know what?” Ash started to stand. “Maybe I’ll come back—”
Suddenly, with the strength of an elephant, Alfie pushed him back down. “Oh no, Mr. Ash! Miss Lillian Ann’s a comin’! You just stay put!” She commanded, then added sweetly, “Sir.” Alfie was silent for a moment as she listened, then her eyes widened. “Well,” she smiled, “I hear her right now.”
Ash heard Lillian Ann’s footsteps as she ran down the stairs, and then the quick clickety clack of her heels on the tile as she passed through the entrance foyer. When she swept into the living room, he stood to greet her.
“Why, Ash!” Lillian Ann was slightly out of breath. “What a surprise.” She smiled. Her long lavender dress was short sleeved with a slightly ruffled hemline. A dark purple sash was tied around her waist. Ash could see a slight smattering of freckles beneath her face powder.
“Good afternoon, Lillian Ann,” Ash said, as they sat down. “I just wanted to—”
“I hope you can stay a while.” She looked toward Alfie co-conspiratorially. “Alfie, why don’t you--peel us some grapes?”
“Why, yes ma’am.” Alfie beamed as she turned to leave the room.
“I can’t--” Ash began.
“Have you had lunch?” Lillian Ann asked.
“Yeah.” At the mere mention of lunch, his stomach gurgled. He squeezed his buttocks firmly to keep from breaking wind. “But—”
“Would you care for dessert?”
“No, thank you. I—”
“Well, grapes are a nice refreshment any time, aren’t they? Not filling, and thirst quenching, too.”
“I suppose so, but—”
“Have you ever had them without the skin?” With a half smile, Lillian Ann raised one eyebrow.
“No.” And that was the dumbest thing he’d ever heard. He wasn’t gonna sit there for an hour while Alfie tried to peel a dozen grapes. Besides, who ate grapes without the skin? “As a matter of fact,” he said, gearing up for a lecture, “the skin of any fruit is the most nutritious part. It has all—”
“Oh, Ash, you and your health consciousness.” Lillian Ann laughed.
“Look, Lillian Ann,” he said quickly. “I can’t stay. I’ll have to miss out on those—skinless grapes—but Mother told me Miss Trina’s sick. So I’d like to invite you to go with me to the Bennett Stuart reading tomorrow.”
“Oh, Ash! Why, I’d love to!” She smiled giddily and sat up tall.
“I’ll pick you up at 11:30.” He stood to leave. “We’ll have lunch at my house, then go to the program.”
“Oh, Ash!” She clasped her hands. “I can hardly wait! Why, you sly devil, you. Just where have you been all summer? I thought we--”
“Lillian Ann, I really have to go.”
“Oh.” She slouched and pouted.
“But,” Ash said, as he started for the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
Chapter 6
Ash sighed quietly. Lillian Ann was about to drive him crazy as she rambled on and on, and she’d also made him lose his appetite. He sat directly across from her in his family’s dining room, while his mother was seated at the foot of the table.
“Miss Joan,” Lillian Ann trilled, gazing toward her, “I just don’t know why Ash has been so hard to find all summer. Once he’s off to law school in the fall,” she smiled at Ash, “I’ll hardly see him.”
“Well,” Joan said, “you’ll have to ask him.”
Ash glanced down at his plate. Creamy chicken salad and fresh tomatoes lay comfortably on a lacy bed of bib lettuce. He poked a large chunk of chicken with his fork. The thick white dressing around it turned pink as it mingled with the juice of the tomatoes.
“I’ve just been busy,” Ash said, as Kitty walked in the room carrying a pitcher of iced tea. She served the ladies first, then Ash. “Thanks, Kitty,” he said softly, as their eyes met, but she didn’t respond.
“You can only imagine my surprise yesterday when he showed up on my doorstep to invite me to the reading today.” Lillian Ann took a sip of tea. “Oh, Catherine, or should I say Kitty? That’s what I just heard Ash call you, isn’t it?” She asked snidely.
“Yes, ma’am,” Kitty said flatly.
Lillian Ann crinkled her nose. “Well, I think I’ll call you that, too. It’s such a cute name,” she said, with a nasty smile. “So, Kitty, would you please bring me a few fresh lemon slices for my tea?”
“Yes, Miss Lillian Ann.”
Once Kitty returned with the lemon slices, Lillian Ann had another request. “Kitty, some of my lettuce is brown. Would you please take it away and bring me another serving?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Kitty reached for the offending plate. However, Ash hadn’t seen any brown lettuce on it.
“Well, Ash,” Lillian Ann said, “I’m glad you finally thought about me. Did thinking about love poetry bring me to your mind?”
Ash caught a glimpse of Kitty as she left the room. After hearing Lillian Ann’s remark, Kitty slouched and grimaced, as though she felt sick. Ash gazed at Lillian Ann with an empty smile, but didn’t say anything to her.
When Kitty returned with a fresh salad for Miss Lillian Ann, Ash studied Kitty’s slender arm. He followed it to her shoulder as she set down the plate, then he tried to look into her eyes again. This time, Kitty refused to let her eyes meet his.
Ash knew she hated being ordered about by Lillian Ann. And although she’d accused him of being a lecherous white man with less than honorable intentions, he now detected her to be jealous; which was exactly what he wanted.
It was his turn to wield the knife. Now he’d twist it a little more. “I don’t have to conjure up any thoughts of love poetry to bring you to mind, Lillian Ann. It’s easy to think about you--and it’s not that I haven’t been,” he lied. Kitty heard this before leaving the dining room. He could tell she was seething by the way she forcefully pushed open the kitchen’s swinging door. It flopped back and forth angrily as she disappeared from view. “And I, uh, hope you enjoy the reading this afternoon.”
“Oh, Ash, I’m sure I will. No one can express—love--quite the way Bennett Stuart does.” Lillian Ann had brought her small leather bound volume of his last collection, Love’s Passionate Bliss, to the table. Carefully picking it up, she held it to her
heart. “I’m hoping he’ll autograph this for me.” She opened the little book to a page marked by a red satin ribbon. “My favorite poem’s in here. It’s called ‘Smitten.’”
“Oh, why, Lillian Ann, I love that one, too,” Miss Joan said.
Lillian Ann closed the book and smiled. “I’d love to recite it, if you don’t mind, Miss Joan.”
“Please do, dear, I’d love to hear it.”
Lillian Ann cleared her throat, then looked toward Ash as she began:
My dearest, oh one of wonderment
I am assuredly smitten.
Admittedly so, I can think
of nothing but your gaze.
Though others hope of golden coins,
be they but hard and cold,
you, my love, my dearest one,
‘tis you that are soft and warm.
My mind is of feathers, floating,
fluttering back to you and your golden hair.
My dearest, my grandest wish is for you
to call me your lover, your beaux.
You have captured my heart.
My thoughts are a plenty, full of you,
rather than grits, greens or redeye gravy.
Though you’ve warmed my tummy, too,
you’ve mostly warmed my heart.
I long for you, my love, my cherished one,
I long for you, oh love, who stole my heart.
Miss Joan fanned herself languorously. “Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful,” she said softly.
Ash tried not to cringe. He’d have to endure more of the same all afternoon.
Lillian Ann looked into his eyes. “Ash, he has such a way with words, doesn’t he?”
“Uh, oh yeah.”
Lillian Ann turned to his mother. “Why, Miss Joan, I just had no idea Ash was a fan of Mr. Stuart’s work.”
“Neither did I.” Miss Joan laughed. “I didn’t even know he was interested in going. I’d suggested it to him, but he’d seemed—rather disinterested. It’s not every day that our town receives a visit from an artist of such high esteem.” Miss Joan looked at her platinum wristwatch. The slim band was encrusted with diamond chips. “I must be leaving. I’ll have to miss dessert, but y’all enjoy.” She smiled. “I’m certainly dreading the heat this afternoon.”
The Governor’s Sons Page 6