by Lisa Grace
During the day, Grace pushed the thoughts aside about her missing curse and did her work. Maybe it was just all the worrying she was doing about the war.
Another month, still no curse. Then the sickness. Every morning. She couldn’t stomach the smell of coffee and eggs in the morning and if Bethany fried anything, well, she almost didn’t make it through the back door.
The next week her skirt wouldn’t meet. She had to tie a scarf around it to hold it up.
Bethany gave her long looks, she knew.
It was time to talk to Ma’am.
***
“Ma’am I need to speak with you,” Grace said to Mrs. Pickersgill later that morning as they sat sewing by the fire. The weather was getting chilly and a fire was always going in the parlor. Mrs. Rebecca, Ma’am’s mother, had a touch of the rheumy and needed the room warm to keep her hands from aching.
“I’m going to be having a baby, ain’t no denying it anymore. I prayed to God, but he not listnen.” Grace started to cry, silent tears ran down her cheeks. Her shoulders started to shake she was so ashamed.
Mrs. Pickersgill took a breath, paused, and put the colors down she’d been working on. “I suspected as much.” She sighed and put her hands primly in her lap.
“Well, Grace, let us see, it takes nine months before the baby’s born, so—around April fifteenth. You will be having a spring baby. That gives us plenty of time to make some clothes. I believe I have Caroline’s old crib upstairs. We can move it into your room. It will be a snug fit, but you will want the baby close for nighttime nursing,” Ma’am said as she took a handkerchief out of her skirt, leaned over, and gently wiped away the tears from Grace’s cheeks.
“Ma’am?” Grace couldn’t believe what she heard.
“Well, we have a baby coming. We have to make plans,” Mrs. Pickersgill smiled.
Grace felt such a burst of gratitude, she almost started to cry.
“Caroline will be delighted to have a little one running around. The house will get a little less quiet, but if that is God’s will, who are we to argue?”
“You have to start thinking about names, a boy and a girl name. The Bible is a good place to go for that.”
“Yes Ma’am,”
“I am sorry about the unsolicited advice, but you will just have to get used to it. It has been awhile since mine was young and I am going to want to show off all the knowledge God has blessed me with,” Mary laughed.
Grace laughed in relief. She would not be let go to fend for herself and the baby. They would keep her on. She almost felt excited, almost.
***
Chapter 5 - April 1st, 1814
Grace woke up that morning not feeling well. The baby in her stomach had been kicking up a storm. The baby bounced and stretched in a way that sent pangs down below and made her walk over half-hunched most the time. Miss Mary and Caroline were taking one last trip today to visit relatives in Maryland before the baby came. The weather had been hard this winter and this week looked like it would be a nice spring one. The baby wasn’t due for another two weeks and most first ones were late.
Grace got up because she could hear the rest of the household stirring. Mrs. Pickersgill had been great. She’d let her sleep in and helped her with her reading while they were working on the sewing. Grace looked around the room as she got up. The crib was ready. Mrs. Mary had given her a blanket, one of her old ones, from when Caroline was little. Not one of the good ones, she was saving those for her grandbabies, but it was soft and warm and beautiful to Grace. It was beautiful. Light blue and as soft as anything she had ever felt.
An unexpected thing had happened during her pregnancy. Grace had begun to love the baby in her belly. She wasn’t sure when. Maybe it might have been the day she was given the blanket. This baby was a gift from God. She hadn’t felt that way for close to six months. Instead she had burned with anger and shame. Then one day while praying on her knees, the baby had kicked and that baby seemed to kick all the hate and anger and despair right out of her. She felt a hand, a hand of peace and love on her shoulder. She knew it had been an angel. An angel who brought her peace. Now she was excited and ready for this to be over. She longed to hold the baby in her arms. She wouldn’t have to share him or her with anybody. This was the first time in her life she would have something that was all hers.
Her pregnancy had been a good time in her life. Work had slowed down and Mrs. Pickersgill took pity on her. For once she let her have some restful times instead of finding busy work for her to do. This fall and winter had been the easiest of her life. When she’d first discovered she was pregnant, she’d felt sure everyone would shun her. Except for a couple of the proper, meaner ladies of the church, everyone had been gracious and helpful. Gifts of used blankets, rags, and clothes had been given to her when she started to show. True, most were already worn and torn, but being a seamstress she could mend and make things look pretty and even hide the stains with clever patching disguised as decoration. Grace was grateful. It seemed most women loved a baby, no matter how it came into the world.
Grace had enough sewing work to keep her busy down by the fire in the kitchen. She could look out the window and watch everyone bustling to and fro, out shopping or working or whatever folks had to do. The ships were getting ready to sail and spring orders for colors picked up. After a rough winter, everyone including the captains of the ships liked their colors new.
She made her way out with her bedpan, took it to the back of the yard, and rinsed it after priming the pump. Then she went in to help with the breakfast. Mrs. Mary and Caroline were packed for a trip. The carriage was packed with trunks tied to the back, and both Mrs. Mary’s and Caroline’s valises were by the door. Mrs. Rebecca was not going. She was staying upstairs in her bed and Bethany was going to look after her. She would empty her bedpans, bring Mrs. Rebecca her meals, and light her fires. Bethany was busy frying eggs, hash, and heating some leftover pie from last night.
“Mrs. Bethany you feed everyone like a queen,” Grace said. Grace finished carrying in the bucket full of water and hung it on the hook in the fireplace to heat it for washing the dishes, a chore Grace handled for Bethany.
“Well you know I love to cook, especially when I get to help eat it,” Bethany said.
Grace and Bethany both laughed. Bethany was big from eating and she was a good cook. Widowed early in life with a son serving on a merchant ship, Bethany was hired to cook and clean. It was a good deal. Her eyes weren’t good enough to work with a needle and thread. All in all, they made a nice little family. It was good to have others who pitched in out of love. It had grown out of each of their situations and of circumstance.
“How are you feeling Grace? Put your feet up, and here’s a nice cup a tea.”
Mrs. Tommie Lynn sold Mrs. Pickersgill some tea that helped soothe Grace and kept her healthy during her time. The blend was made of flowers and herbs. It smelled good and didn’t make Grace sick. She had been glad to have something warm to drink during the cold winter and spring months. Mrs. Pickersgill was of the opinion that civilized houses served a hot beverage, otherwise, what were fine china cups for? Grace’s cup was an old chipped one with delicate white flowers and green painted stems and leaves. It was from a set that Mrs. Pickersgill never used. Grace liked to imagine she was a lady while drinking from the thin china which appeared as fragile as a hen’s egg shell. It was still the nicest cup Grace had ever used, even if it was a castoff.
“Thank you Bethany, you’s a true friend.”
“Don’t get mushy on me, you with the baby blue’s and me always crying at the drop of a hat.”
Bethany missed her dead husband. Grace had seen her holding one of his shirts and breathing deeply to inhale his scent. She kept it hidden under her pillow. When Bethany’s door was closed in the early evening. Grace could hear her as she prayed loudly, and thumped her heavy knees on the floor as she shifted her weight, while she asked for mercy for her son who was at sea. It seemed to Grace that sadness was n
ever far from overtaking Mrs. Bethany’s mind.
Grace winced and put a hand on her belly as a sharp pain hit. She sat in pain and then took a sip of the hot tea, and hoped the warmth would help the baby settle down.
“Is the little one kicking up a storm again?” Bethany asked as she glanced at Grace while she brought the plate of food over covered with a towel to keep it hot.
“Mrs. Mary, Caroline, breakfast is served!” Bethany yelled up the stairs.
“I’ll be right back. I’m just going to take up Mrs. Becca’s breakfast.” Bethany left without waiting for an answer and headed up the stairs.
Grace listened as everyone upstairs hustled and bustled about. Grace thought how nice it must be to sleep late and come down to a warm parlor and kitchen, with fires lit by others and a tasty breakfast being prepared before the sun was even up. She was still of the opinion that Ma’am had tricked her into signing on as an indentured servant. Grace was getting a good respectable reputation for her sewing. She was learning to read and write so she knew Mrs. Pickersgill wouldn’t sell her to someone else to serve out her time just because she was having a baby. Grace was at peace with her situation. What man meant for bad, God had meant for good. Right now everything in her life was good and she was thankful for it. Thankful for her little piece of happiness.
Bethany came down the stairs, followed by Caroline and her mother, Mrs. Pickersgill. Bethany kept going out the back door with Grandma Becca’s bedpan from the night before.
When she came back in, she carried the food covered with towels into the dining room where Caroline and her mother would dine.
“Good morning Miss Caroline. Are you excited to see your Aunt and Uncle today?” Mrs. Bethany asked.
Grace got up to put some eggs on Miss Caroline’s plate and pour her a cup of the freshly brewed coffee.
“Oh yes,” Caroline answered, “they have the most handsome neighbor named Nathaniel. He promised the next time we visited he would take me along with his sisters to see his horses and we could go for a carriage ride. And Mama said we could too.”
“Is he the reason you’ve been pecking at your plate like a chicken?” Mrs. Bethany could talk freely with Miss Caroline in the early morning before the formality of the day set in. Grace listened in. Today the conversation was helping to take her mind off how poorly the kicking pain was making her feel.
“It worked,” Caroline said with her eyes shining, “Mama was able to tie my stays so they are touching. I would have passed out a week ago if she had tried to do it then. “I’m almost fifteen now, and Mama said I could start accepting visitors then.”
“Look where it leads to when you set your heart to a courting boy, Miss Caroline,” Bethany said as she came back in from the backyard nodding her head in Grace’s direction.
Grace felt her cheeks’ get hot. Bethany could be a little bawdy at times, just like the jack tars on the docks. Her son was a sailor and sometimes she talked as if she were one too. Bethany tried hard to act proper but was confined mainly to the kitchen and the yard when visitors were around because of her low class ways. It wasn’t her fault. She’d never been in a fine mansion like Grace worked in, in the south. Bethany, being from the north, with a husband and son both being jack tars on the merchant ships, was used to a different way of life. Pretty talk and good manners had to be learned and Bethany was past learning.
“Well of course I would marry first,” Caroline said, then placed her hand up to her mouth , “Oh, Grace, I didn’t mean…”
“It’s okay Miss Caroline, When you meet the right young man, I’m sure you’ll be happy.” Grace knew Miss Caroline had spoke without thinking.
Grace went back into the kitchen and sat down to have her tea. Grace looked into her teacup and tried to hold the cup on the saucer and her chin, steady. It was true. In Miss Caroline’s world she would marry first. In Miss Caroline’s world Grace would have had a chaperone and never been left alone with a man. Miss Caroline would never know her world. Miss Caroline was born with choices and Grace was not.
“I’m happy now,” Grace whispered to herself.
She heard Bethany in the dining room, “Eat your food before it gets cold.” Grace tried hard to put a smile back on her face, but gave up as the baby pressed on something that hurt deep inside.
At that moment, Mrs. Pickersgill walked back in the front door from checking on the carriage and took her seat at the table, “Ladies,” she said holding out her hands waiting for everyone to say grace, “Lord bless this food to sustain us through the day ahead. Take care of us as we travel and bless those who remain in my home. And bless Momma so this bit of tiredness leaves her quickly.”
“Amen,” everyone said in unison, even Grace who was back in the kitchen.
Mrs. Pickersgill waited as Bethany placed the hash and eggs on her plate. She nodded as Bethany poured her a cup of coffee. She then served her a small plate of bread and butter. Bethany went back to the sideboard and sliced Mrs. Pickersgill a piece of pie. She then quietly excused herself to the kitchen.
Grace pushed herself back out of her chair to take the warm bucket of water off the fire and set it by the tub area. She sat back down next to the fire and waited patiently while Bethany fixed her own breakfast. Bethany gave Grace the last spoonful of hash and the last of the eggs. Bethany then quickly scrambled up an extra egg for Grace since Bethany wanted her to eat for two to keep the baby healthy. At the beginning of her pregnancy she’d always been hungry and had been glad for the extra helpings. Now towards the end, Grace found she filled up quickly and then got an awful case of the burps. She knew she had to eat it all or she would hurt Bethany’s feelings. She also knew in about an hour she would regret eating so much.
Mrs. Mary and Caroline left in the carriage after breakfast eager to begin their holiday trip. “Take care of Momma,” Missus. Pickersgill said out the window, “And Grace take good care of yourself and that baby. We will be back in ten days, in plenty of time for the baby’s coming.” Mrs. Pickersgill waved Grace over next to the window of the carriage so she could speak to her privately. “Now I’ve paid Mrs. Tommie Lynn already. She’s the best one at birthing babies in these parts. If you get scared from pains remember sometimes those come a week or two before the baby. If your water breaks or you start bleeding or the pains keep coming and don’t stop, you go to her house or have Bethany take you. Mrs. Tommie Lynn will know what to do, all right? I prayed for you so you should be fine. I did not want you worrying because I wasn’t here. You are a brave girl Grace, and God will see you through. Now take care.”
Grace kept nodding during Mrs. Pickersgill’s speech. She had already told Grace all these things before so Mrs. Pickersgill must be saying them to remind herself that she had indeed prepared Grace for the birthing. Grace knew she was the one that would have to push the baby out. That woman, Tommie Lynn, couldn’t do anything more than catch it and cut the cord. Grace had helped and seen many babies born to the women on the plantation. She knew exactly how babies came into this world. The slave women only had each other to help at birthing time so every woman always pitched in to help. You never knew when you’d be sold. If you were unlucky and it was to a small place, you might be the only one to help. Every girl learned how to birth a baby so when your time came, you wouldn’t be scared and you’d know what to do. But she couldn’t tell Mrs. Pickersgill that. So she agreed to go to Mrs. Tommie Lynn’s. Maybe she would be glad to have the company when the time came. She hoped she wouldn’t scream. Grace planned on looking into herself and waiting for the pain to pass. Many times when bad things happened that is what she would do. Grace vowed she wouldn’t holler but maybe it was one of those things you didn’t know you were going to do until the time came.
***
The pains, the sharp ones, kept coming all morning long. Grace would sit and sew and then they would hit. She tried to distract herself and went walking in the yard with the chickens and Socks the cat. Socks knew to leave the chickens alone. He was a good mous
er and laid one or two on the back porch everyday, proving his worth. This morning he circled around Grace’s legs, begging for her to rub his tummy. She could feel him against her legs, meowing and pressing for attention. But bending down far enough to make Socks happy, was not going to happen again until after the baby was born. She came back into the kitchen as another pain hit. Bethany must be upstairs with Miss Rebecca, because she wasn’t in the backyard and the kitchen was empty. She poured herself another cup of tea. Grace’s back was hurting. A dull ache, but enough where she couldn’t stand up straight. If this was how the last few weeks would be, she didn’t know if she could make it. All of a sudden, Grace felt warmth and wet. She looked down at her feet and saw water splashing, making a spilling sound like she was peeing on the floor. Grace panicked. She called out, “Bethany! Come help!” Then when she heard Bethany call down from upstairs, “I’m busy helping Mrs. Becca!”
Grace grabbed the towel they used to hold the pots and tried to wipe the water off from the insides of her legs. She then put it on the floor so she could walk across it back to the bottom of the stairs, without getting the whole floor wet.
“Mrs. Bethany, my water broke! I’m leaving to go to Mrs. Tommie Lynn’s.”
Bethany came down the stairs as fast as a bolt of lighting, “Oh honey, your baby’s coming early. I can’t leave Miss Becca right now. Do you think you can walk the block by yourself? I’ll follow as soon as I get her to bed. I’m just finishing cleaning her up right now. I’ll follow in a few.”
From upstairs a weak voice called, “Bethany!”
“I’m fine. I can walk a block just fine by myself. If you could bring some of the baby’s things I’d be grateful.”
“Oh honey,” Bethany reached out and gave her a quick hug. “You get over there before the pains start.”
“I’ll be right behind,” Bethany said as she climbed back up the stairs.
First, Grace took an old set of rags out of the linen closet off the kitchen and set it on the water on the floor. She couldn’t bend over to pick them up, but she thought Mrs. Bethany would understand. She put on her overcoat, stepped out the door, and went down the steps for the short walk of two blocks to Tommie Lynn’s house. Socks the cat trotted after her to catch up.