by Bush, Holly
Jillian slammed the lid of her suitcase closed and turned in a fury. “I hate you.” Jillian pulled her coat off a hook and shoved her arms through the sleeves. “I hate you,” she whispered as she stood at the door of her room, her back to Julia.
Julia’s hands shook wildly. Her worst fears were materializing. She needed a chance to talk to Jillian when they had both settled down. She needed her heart to quit pounding and her knees to hold her upright. Julia needed the time to explain to her daughter why she done what she’d done and how sorry she was. She needed Jake. Craved his arms around her. His encouragement to know she’d done the right thing no matter how ugly Jillian’s reaction had been. Needed his conviction to keep what was hers, hers.
Julia and Jillian walked silently into Miss Abernathy’s office past a sputtering assistant. “This birth certificate indicates I am rightfully Jillian Crawford’s mother. I am taking her home.”
Miss Abernathy stood. “How dare you barge into my office? And what nonsense is this?” The woman took the paper from Julia’s hands and read.
Julia watched the usually stoic woman as she scanned the certificate and came upon Julia’s name as mother. Her eyes shot up. “This is ludicrous. You can’t mean to take Jillian now. Your parents need to be notified.”
“My attorney has researched the validity of this certificate. A duplicate is filed at city hall. As Jillian’s mother, I am entitled to enroll or remove her from this school. It is merely a courtesy I extend to you by informing you.”
Julia ushered Jillian out of the office as Miss Abernathy shouted her outrage. The two, mother and daughter, walked silently out the door and into the waiting coach. Jillian huddled on one side of carriage. Julia sat quietly reviewing all that had been said. Certainly, her start as a mother had been rocky. One foot in front of the other, she chided herself.
Chapter Fifteen
A divorce, Jake thought and harrumphed, as a he speared the last sardine in the can. His parents would have never divorced. He didn’t know anyone who’d been divorced. But if Julia was gone for good, his dreams of children to pass his farm to were over. No use kidding himself, Jake thought. His time with Julia had led him far past a helpmate and someone to bury him. Her gee-gaws and painting and wall-papering were done with anticipation and an unspoken plan. Julia had prepared his home to be a place he wanted to spend time in and that children would be happy in.
All the little things his mother had done before she died flew through his head. Paper chains at Christmas. Cherry pies for the Fourth of July. Sharpened pencils in a tin can for his ciphering. All the little details he’d scoffed at that still burned in his memory. His children, if Julia and he had any, would remember doilies under lamps, paper dolls and a cozy room with a fireplace and rugs and throw pillows. Julia probably did all those things half-happy for their children to come and half-sad for the daughter who’d never enjoy it.
After a few days of self-imposed exile from his family, Jake had cooled off. He supposed Julia was doing exactly what she thought he would want her to do. And his reaction had been derision. Now, Jake couldn’t shake the feeling Julia needed him. Like he needed her when Gloria had Joshua and the thought of his sister’s death loomed before him. Or when she put on his old work clothes and rode out to the fields with Slim to gather corn. Julia took twice as long to pull errant ears from stocks and dropped them before she got to the wagon more often than not but that was hardly why he needed her that day. Julia stood side-by-side with him. Facing the kind of hard work she’d never experienced, trying to right a wrong her parents had instigated. He needed her courage that day.
And although it galled him to admit it, Jake needed her kisses and touches as much as he needed her body for sex. He was missing her eyes lighting up when he said he loved her. He was missing her saying it to him. Sleeping alone without Julia cuddled next to him, touching his face in the morning was proving to be more difficult than he’d expected. He’d slept alone for thirty-some years. But after six short months, he could hardly remember a day not waking up beside his beautiful wife.
Jake recalled Julia’s exhausted but smiling face when she came home from Gloria’s each evening after Joshua’s birth. He had kissed her nose and helped her take her shoes off one night. Jake had told her she was over doing, not used to doing laundry over a fire and scrubbing. Julia’s face had glowed when she told him she was going back the next day. They need me, Jake. Nothing he had done or said to her had ever summoned that look on her face. She was proud as punch, and crying as usual, when she curled up that night beside him. And knowing her family, Julia probably needed him something terrible right now. Jake lowered the lamp. His eyes closed quickly, and he fell into the deepest sleep he’d had in weeks. Jake knew now, what he needed to do to keep what was his, his.
* * *
It took more than an hour for Julia to convince Jillian to come into Eustace’s home. She was sure every eye in the neighborhood watched as they finally stepped out of the carriage. Julia had warned Jillian in the most serious voice she could summon; she would allow no disrespect of her friend or her daughter. Julia opened the door of the small home with the key Eustace had given her. Julia went straight to the kitchen to boil water for tea. Her nerves were frayed to their very ends. Jillian walked down the darkened hall, slowly, taking in all around her. The girl stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching her mother.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Jillian said finally.
Julia pulled the hatpins from her hair. “Sit down. I’m going to change, and we’ll have tea and talk.”
After Julia had changed into one of her dark skirts and blouses, she found Jillian rooted to the same spot. “The kettle’s whistling, Jillian.”
Jillian just stared. Julia bustled around, finding teacups and opening a tin of sugar cookies.
Jillian repeated her question.
“I should have never agreed to Mother’s plan. But I was seventeen at the time and thought I was doing the right thing.” Julia took a deep breath. “I am so sorry.”
“What if I don’t want you for a mother?” Jillian asked. “You’re always embarrassing us. Being silly and stupid. Jolene and Jennifer could hardly bear being at a party with you for fear of what you would say.”
The words cut through Julia’s heart. She hadn’t realized how hurtful a ten-year-old could be. And she was now responsible for this particular ten-year-old. “Well, then, you’ll just have a silly, stupid mother, I suppose.”
“I don’t want you as a mother.”
Julia swallowed. “Well, I don’t imagine you do. But unfortunately, you have nothing to do with who your mother is. We can’t choose our parents, Jillian.”
“No. You chose for me.”
Julia refused to give in to tears. She opened the bag of flour from the groceries she’d bought for Eustace the day before. “I was wrong, terribly wrong.”
“What are you doing?”
Julia looked up as she measured lard from a tin. “Making biscuits for dinner.”
Jillian’s brows rose. “You know how to make biscuits?”
Julia kneaded the dough in a crockery bowl. “I learned how to do lots of things while I lived in South Dakota. I gathered eggs and shucked corn. Flossie made all the bread for Jake and me, but I was tutoring Millie and Danny in exchange.”
“Sounds dreadful to me,” Jillian said as she plopped down in a chair. “Who’s Flossie?”
“My husband’s sister. And Millie and Danny are her children. Harry’s her husband.” Julia supposed until she was well and divorced she could still call Jake her husband.” Julia sighed. “I loved it there.”
Jillian harrumphed. “Yeah, away from Mother.” The girls’ cheeks reddened. “I’d still rather be home than here.”
“We’ll only be here for a day or so until we catch the train to Aunt Mildred’s.”
“I hate Aunt Mildred. She’s a hundred years old, and she smells.”
Julia cocked her head. “Aunt Mildred has graciousl
y invited us to stay as long as we need. Until I figure out what I can do for an income.”
“An income?”
Julia rolled out the dough on the wooden table. She did not look at Jillian when she replied. “I’ll need to earn money. I have enough to get us started but not enough to live on indefinitely.”
Jillian’s mouth dropped. “Are you saying we’re poor?”
“Not poor exactly. I believe I have enough to buy a small house with, but I’ll have to do something to make money.”
“And what could you do to earn us money. Mother said your husband would be lucky if you didn’t burn his house down.”
Julia bristled. “Mother would say that.”
“It’s true.”
“Not anymore, Jillian, not anymore,” Julia said. Her hands were shaking with anger. She’d gathered the courage to leave her home in Boston, to be away from ridicule; by damn she wouldn’t live with it again. “Mother doesn’t know everything, you know.”
“Mother said your husband was sweet to you while she was there. She said it wouldn’t last. She was right about that. I don’t see him here,” Jillian said.
Julia heard traces of Jolene and her mother in Jillian’s tone. She would either bend to it or stop it. “What happened between my husband and me is private. He is certainly the reason I finally faced the mistakes I made in the past. I will forever be in his debt.”
“I hate him for it.”
Julia slammed down the wooden spoon in her hand. Jillian jumped. “I will not allow you to slander a man, a good, kind, honest man, you don’t even know.” Julia punched out the circles of dough with a vengeance. “The Shellings are the kind of people I always dreamed of for a family. Don’t you dare judge what you don’t yet understand.”
Jillian sat silently while Julia placed the dough on a blackened pan. She cut ham into small chunks, potatoes as well and boiled them in water while she opened jars of beans. Julia was sweating and angry when Eustace walked in, Mary in tow.
Mary and Jillian eyed each other warily.
“Something smells mighty good,” Eustace said as she pulled off her bonnet. “What a pleasure it is to see you, Miss Jillian. Mary, show Miss Jillian your doll collection.”
“What doll collection?” Jillian asked.
Mary stood straight and met Jillian’s look head on. “My mama makes dolls made of porcelain and she paints the faces. They’re the most beautiful dolls in the world.”
Julia glared at Jillian as she sat rooted in her chair. “Jillian, be gracious, please.”
Jillian jumped up. “Fine. Can’t imagine how beautiful dolls’d be made by a cleaning lady.”
Julia shouted. “Jillian. Apologize this instant. You have one of Eustace’s dolls in your room, and you always told me it was your favorite.”
“Is not,” the girl shouted, tears brimming in her eyes.
“You say you’re sorry to my mama,” Mary said.
Eustace took a deep breath and a step towards Jillian. “I was thinking about making gingerbread cookies tonight, Miss Jillian.” She saw Jillian’s lip tremble. “Now, I knows they’re your favorite. I made them the night before you left for . . .”
Jillian dissolved into pitiful sobs and launched herself into Eustace’s arms. “I’ve missed you so much. I hated school, Eustace. Hated it.”
Eustace stroked Jillian’s hair. “I know you did, child. I know you did.” Eustace looked at Julia’s face over Jillian’s head.
Julia ran from the kitchen and to the spare room she was staying in. She locked the door before the tears came. And then they came in torrents.
* * *
Eustace sat Jillian down and sent Mary to the neighbors for salt. “I think you’ve had a mighty hard day.”
Jillian’s sobs quieted and she hiccoughed. “Do you know? About me?”
Eustace nodded. “I knew before you was born, Miss Jillian.”
Jillian’s lip trembled. “Then why did everybody wait so long to tell me?” Jillian sat quietly and then faced Eustace. “My mother, the, the one I always thought was my mother can be, well,” Jillian dipped her head, “mean. Julia always told me stories and took me to the park and hugged me. But she’s my sister. Mother and Jolene said not to tell anyone at school who my sister was.”
“So you’re thinking you ought to be ashamed of her.”
Jillian nodded. “But I . . . I don’t know what to think, now.”
“I think this is a lot of big changes for a little girl.” Mary came in the kitchen door and eyed her mother and Jillian. “I think Miss Jillian would like to see your doll collection.” Eustace hugged Jillian and whispered in her ear. “Don’t think about anything right now, child. Just try and understand your Mama loves you and always has.”
Jillian looked unconvinced but dutifully followed Mary.
Eustace didn’t knock on Julia’s door till much later. “Miss Julia?”
Julia dried her face and opened the door. Eustace followed her into the small attic room.
“Why don’t you let Mary sleep up here? Then you can sleep in her bed. It’s a nice, big room,” Eustace said.
“I don’t need a bigger room, Eustace,” Julia said. “You’ve been more than hospitable already.”
Eustace saw Julia’s face and the dried tear tracks. “Now don’t forget what I told you. One step at a time. You gave Miss Jillian lots to think about.” Eustace stepped closer to Julia. “You knew this weren’t gonna be easy.”
Julia looked out the window as if looking for the answers eluding her. “She called you horrible names and was nasty to you.” Julia faced Eustace. “Yet she came to you for comfort. I don’t understand.”
Eustace took Julia’s hand and led her to the bed to sit down. “Now listen here. That girl is nasty just to cover up her own hurt. It ain’t right, but that’s all it is. She was mighty sad when you left to get married, then your Mama ships her off to that school, and you know what those high falutin’ girls act like. Then you come home and tell her you is her Mama.” Eustace grabbed Julia’s hand. “Sure, she’s mad. She’s goin’ say lots she don’t mean till she sorts all this out.”
“I know so little about children. I am surely out of my depths to be a mother.”
“Nonsense, child. You’ll learn. Ain’t goin’ to happen in one day, though.”
Their evening meal was eaten in near silence. Julia was ashamed of Jillian’s behavior and announced they’d be leaving the next day for Delaware. Eustace welcomed them to stay longer. Mary looked relieved. Jillian’s face was a hard angry mask. She ate little, and Julia found her in their small attic bedroom, staring at the ceiling. She sat down on the low cot beside Jillian and rubbed her hand. “Won’t you tell me what you’re thinking?”
“I’m thinking I’d rather be dead than here.”
“Don’t say such things, Jillian.”
Jillian rolled on her side to face the wall, pulling her hand unceremoniously from Julia’s grasp. When Julia thought Jillian slept, she heard her low whisper.
“Why did you leave me?”
How could Julia explain? How could she describe the shame and fear she felt without making her daughter feel she was the cause? “Jillian, do you know how babies are made?”
“I’m not a baby, Julia. I know you’re supposed to be married, cause then you sleep with your husband.”
Julia’s face colored even though her daughter did not face her. “A woman does not have to be married to get pregnant. It’s an intimate act between a man and a woman. It should be between husband and wife, but it isn’t always.”
Jillian didn’t respond but Julia continued. “What happened shouldn’t have happened, but then I’d have never been blessed with you. I’ve spent years being ashamed and afraid. I know now my shame and fear are small compared to how much I love you. Through everything that happened I was never ashamed of you. Just myself. How I wish I’d not let Mother tell me what was best for my own daughter.”
“But you did.”
“A
nd for that I am deeply sorry. I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to explain it all to you. But I thought I was doing the right thing. When all along I was doing what Mother thought was best.”
Jillian pulled the blanket over her shoulder. Julia lay down on the bed. She was missing Jake as she supposed she would for the rest of her life. The day had been an emotional nightmare. She needed him. Her daughter needed her more.
Chapter Sixteen
Julia awoke as the winter sun filled the room. She dressed quickly in a navy traveling suit, shivering all the while. Jillian was already up. Julia took her time washing, knowing she had another long day of travel ahead. She didn’t see Jillian as she entered the kitchen. There was a note from Eustace who had already gone to work at her parent’s home. She had walked Mary to school before leaving. Eustace said her goodbyes and good luck in the letter. She promised that she would consider taking Julia up on her offer to live with her in Delaware once she was settled.
Julia looked around the kitchen wondering where Jillian was. She walked out to the small backyard to check the privy. No Jillian. She checked Mary’s room, wondering if Julia had climbed into the girl’s bed, although she doubted it. No Jillian. Julia’s heart began a panicked beat to her throat. Julia ran to the front door and threw it open, expecting, hoping, praying, Jillian sat on the front porch. As she slowly closed the door and willed herself to remain calm, she saw the hooks by the front door. Jillian’s coat was not there. Julia raced to the small room she’d been staying in. Jillian’s shoes were not there.
Julia’s hands were shaking and her knees weak by the time she sat down at Eustace’s table and tried to clear her head and consider where Jillian may have gone. The girl would have never gone back to Ramsey. The only place Jillian could have gone, if she wasn’t walking the streets of the city, was Willow Tree. The confrontation, Julia had hoped to avoid was now inevitable. Julia gathered her and Jillian’s bags and sat them by the front door. She set off up the hill to an area busy with business and hailed a carriage. Julia had the driver take her back to Eustace’s first to gather her things. She was amazed at how calm she was. As if there was no ugly scene yet to witness. Her hands trembled slightly in the cold air of the open buggy. There would be no Jake to stand between her and her parents. No hiding somewhere, whether it be in spinsterhood or fear or South Dakota. Julia would face her family alone.