A Matter of Pride

by Jane Gill

  “God, that would be a relief,” she sighed.

  “Yeah, I’ll drive! I’ll drive the whole way,” William interjected. “I’m sick of sittin’ in the backseat with the brain.”

  “Oh,” Susan responded. “The brain, huh? Well, you come talk to me next year when, and if, you get into college. Dad, you’re not really gonna’ let him drive. What about his reckless driving ticket? I am not ridin’ with him.” She turned toward her brother with a haughty look. “Call me the brain, huh? I wasn’t the one with the problem!”

  “Hey, hey, now,” Zach scolded. “Knock it off.”

  Then he turned his gaze to William.”And you be quiet, too, hear? I’ll make the decisions in this family. Now, everybody gets up at dawn and we head on out,” he directed. “We can have breakfast in Georgia, drive in shifts.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Just after the sun cleared the trees the next morning the family loaded up for their trip back home. As mile after mile of I-95 slipped behind her, Lu wondered why, when there was so much to be proud of, she always felt she didn’t want to talk about her family history. The feeling kept haunting her, and she couldn’t shake it.

  As if she were reading her thoughts, Susan spoke up when they stopped for breakfast in Georgia. “Mom, I think it’s really great we had an ancestor who served in the Union Army. I can’t wait to look at that box of old papers. I wonder if there’s, like, really old documents and important family history in there. Wouldn’t that be exciting?”

  “You’re such a hoot! It must be just killing you not to be able to plow through your closet right now and find your old term paper so you can compare it with the Stovall family history,” Lu said, grinning. “You know, I guess I always knew about my great-grandfather Elijah, but when I was growing up no one ever talked about family members who lived two and three generations ago. They just talked about the ones everyone knew. I never gave it a lot of thought. Still, it’s nice for you and William to know your family tree can be traced back five generations.”

  “It sure is,” Zach said. “To the Civil War, no less. Not everybody gets to brag about something like that.”

  “Yeah,” Lu said. “When we get home I’m going to send a note to Reverend Parker and thank him again for making that part of the service.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Once they arrived home and Susan was sent off back to college, Lu was buried in work at her office. A week behind, she worked furiously with her team to catch up on all the loose ends. Even though everyone performed well, she still felt it was her responsibility to personally go over as many reports as she could. As a result, she put in 10-hour days at the office all that week.

  As tired as she was, by 8:30 the following Saturday morning, she had spread all of her father’s papers out on the dining room table, determined to go through each and every one. She quickly grew impatient. After all, she scolded herself, someone who has spent her entire career as an auditor shouldn’t be frustrated going through a few small boxes of bills and receipts. When she didn’t find what she was looking for, she hurriedly re-sorted all the papers, making small stacks for the phone bills, electric bills, farm income and expenses. She had her father’s wallet, his Social Security card, and his driver’s license. He didn’t have a checking account, but his bank statements showed a savings account of $4,700.00. There was no life insurance policy, and worst of all, no deed. He had years and years of property tax bills rubber banded together, but no deed. It just didn’t make sense. She couldn’t have missed it! Suddenly, she slammed her palms on the table.

  Zach came in from the kitchen where he had been reading the morning paper. He spoke cautiously, looking over the top of his glasses which were perched on the end of his nose. “Can I help?” he asked.

  “Oh, sure, you can help if you can figure out what my father did with the most important paper in his life! I’ve been through every box. Here’s the title to the pickup.” She waved it aloft. “Here’s the title to the tractor.” She started to repeat her movement, then she realized she was acting frantic. She waved her hand at the small stacks of paper on the table. “And here’s every other piece of paper he ever had for the last fifty years and no damn deed! I just don’t understand it—he was always saying how the land was so important. Why can’t I find the deed?” she asked.

  “Take a break. C’mon, have a cup of coffee with me.” Zach suggested. “You know how it is when you’re looking for something. It can be right under your nose and you won’t see it. I do it all the time in my office.” Lu knew he was right. She reluctantly followed him into the kitchen where she saw he already had the French press out and water on to boil.

  “Did I ever tell you that I love you, Zachary Conners?” she said slipping her arms around his middle and resting her head on his chest.

  “Yeah, but you can tell me again,” he said, his chin atop her head.

  Seated in front of the bay window in the dining room, which overlooked Lu’s carefully landscaped flower beds, she gazed into space, her coffee cupped in both hands.

  “Hon, tell me about your mother,” Zach prompted.

  “I’ve been thinking about her for days now,” Lu said. “I remember so much about her touch and her voice. She sang all the time—all day long.”

  “What did she sing?” he asked.

  “I don’t remember exactly,” Lu said. “Just little pieces of songs, hymns mostly. If I got hurt, she’d pull me up into her lap and rock me and hum a little something. She was wonderful.”

  “Did she look like you?” Zach asked. “I mean, was she as pretty as you are?”

  “Oh.” Lu felt a blush rise to her cheeks. “She was beautiful. Her hair was so soft. I remember that mostly. You know, that little Ashanti—she looks just like Momma. What a little doll.” She pursed her lips and gazed toward the ceiling. “Momma used to sew most of my clothes and Martin’s shirts when we were little. And she and Grammy Mayetta canned all kinds of things from the garden. I remember the smells mostly. During the canning season, our whole kitchen table would be loaded with enamel pans filled with sliced pickles in brine, covered with dish towels. She and Grammy Mayetta put up jams, jellies, pickles, beans, tomatoes—everything,” Lu said wistfully. “I never realized how much work that is, you know? They made it seem like it was a hobby or something.”

  “You never talk about her,” Zach said.

  “Yeah,” Lu said, as she stared into her coffee cup. “For a long time I missed her so much I’d cry every time I thought of her. Finally, I just stopped thinking about her. It was easier that way.”

  “But what about when she died?” Zach asked tentatively. “It must have been awful tough.”

  “It was,” she replied. “God, you know, when we were at my father’s service it just went all over me. Like, it was Momma’s coffin all over again, not Daddy’s.”

  She was quiet for a long moment before continuing. “But then, I did have Miss Pearl. She kind of stepped in then, you know?”

  “How so?” he asked.

  “I don’t know where I would begin. Miss Pearl must be over eighty now, although I don’t think she looks it.”

  “No, I wouldn’t have guessed that,” Zach said. “Susan took a real shine to her, you know, like she was family.”

  “She practically is. And she has a gift of making everyone feel special. I really have always known her. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t know her,” Lu said wistfully. “She was older than both of my parents, and she was crazy about me and Martin. I’m pretty sure her husband died in the War, like right after they were married. I don’t know if she was pregnant with Jerome then or if he was a baby, but she was widowed really young. I used to wonder, when I got older, if that was why Jerome was what they called slow. He was a lot older than me, but he didn’t act it, so I didn’t notice it too much when we were kids. He was always quiet, and kind of gentle, but I’m sure he wasn’t able to go very far in school. Daddy was good with him, patient, you know? He taught him how to
fish. Jerome loved animals. He was forever finding birds that had fallen out of their nests, and orphaned rabbits. And he was good at feeding them and nursing them, too. Daddy spent time teaching him about farming, like a father would do.”

  “Does he still live with Miss Pearl?” Zach asked.

  “He probably does, but Miss Pearl said he couldn’t come to the service. She said he took Daddy’s death real hard,” Lu responded. “That’s how sensitive he is. I should’ve gone out to see him. He must be old himself now, although I can’t imagine what he’d be like old.” She wrinkled her brow.

  “Where do they live? Near the farm?” Zach asked.

  “Actually, they live on five acres Daddy gave to Miss Pearl years ago. She didn’t really have any family around,” Lu said. “I think she came from another part of the state or something. Anyway, Jerome farmed cabbages and potatoes, and he and Daddy took them to market. Miss Pearl took in laundry, and did some housekeeping in town. I think she did some midwifery too. Actually, I think she was there when Martin and I were born. Of course, we were born in the hospital, but she would’ve been there to hold Momma’s hand. Did I ever tell you, they called my mother “Lovie”? Her real name was Livinia, but nobody ever called her that. I think Miss Pearl was probably responsible for that, too.”

  Lu got up and poured another cup of coffee. She sat back down at the table. “After my mother died, I spent a lot of time over at Miss Pearl’s. And if I didn’t show up over there, she’d have Jerome drive her over to pick me up. She’d say she needed my help and then she’d let me help her with the laundry she took in. I still remember how wonderful the clothes smelled when we took them off the lines. And she would iron and iron and never complain. I really didn’t do anything to help, just watched her and talked, and then we would sit outside and drink cold lemonade.

  “She had an old wooden ice box on the porch. She kept the glasses in there so they frosted over when she poured lemonade in them. Grammy didn’t do much stuff like that. I mean she was there, she taught me how to sew, and she made sure we were clean and well fed, but Miss Pearl made me feel loved. I guess she just understood me, you know. And I never felt like I was in her way.

  “When I won the scholarship, Daddy didn’t want me to take it. He wanted me to go to school near home, in DeLand. I cried and cried over it.” Lu sighed. “The only one who understood was Miss Pearl. She held me, and I laid my head in her lap like I was a little kid. She just stroked my hair. It was such a simple thing, yet when she did it, I knew she loved me. She never criticized my father, but she didn’t take his side either. She was wonderful to me, even after I went off to college. She wrote me all the time and sent me little poems of encouragement she cut out of the paper. And cookies, she always sent me cookies, and kumquat marmalade. I haven’t had that in years! I missed her so much. At first I wrote her long letters telling her everything, but I think I really failed her once you and I met and I graduated. It wasn’t intentional—I just got busy, I guess. I feel terrible about it now.”

  What started out as a summer cold quickly escalated, and soon Momma was doubled over with strangling coughing fits. Sometimes it seemed like she couldn’t catch her breath between the bouts of coughing. There were trips into town to the doctor, and bottles of medicine began to line the kitchen counter. Then, entire months passed when she was fine. But, she’d have another attack and have to take to bed for several days.

  Pleurisy, the doctor said, weak lungs. Momma said it was nothing—that the doctor didn’t know what he was talking about, but she didn’t have much strength. Grammy Mayetta would have to order her to lie down. Luella worried a lot and, although she tried to help, Grammy Mayetta would lose her patience and tell her she could better help by not helping. Luella couldn’t seem to hang the clothes out on the line the way Grammy wanted or do much besides wash and dry the dishes.

  She made the beds, vacuumed the house, and folded the clothes, but soon she began to spend more and more time over at Miss Pearl’s. Together they hung out the laundry Miss Pearl did for the families in town, or she asked Luella to help with her flower garden. Miss Pearl was sweet-natured and smart. She was a good listener. She always wanted to know the latest lessons Luella was learning in school and Luella was glad to have her attention. Sometimes she talked about the boys at school, which ones she liked and which ones she didn’t. Miss Pearl chuckled when Luella told her of the ways this boy or that boy tried to get her attention.

  “Soon enough,” she’d say with a wink, “all them young boys goin’ be flirtin’ with you! They always chase after the pretty ones first.” Luella felt herself blush.

  “So,” Miss Pearl asked. “How’s that long, skinny one? What’s his name, Darren, or Darnell?”

  “Dwight.” Luella answered. “But he’s not skinny, he’s tall,” she added defensively.

  “Oh, yeah,”Miss Pearl said, rolling her eyes for effect. “Why do I always forget his name?” She’d smile and shake her head, teasing Luella.

  “He’s okay,” Luella answered, even though she knew boys were impossible to figure out. Just when she was sure Dwight didn’t like her, he’d bump her arm in the hall, causing her to drop her books to the ground. Then he’d squat down to pick them up for her, mumbling, “Oh, geez, sorry, Luella.” She knew then that he really was sweet on her. She just didn’t know what to do about it.

  “Well,” Miss Pearl winked, pouring a lemonade for herself and for Luella. “When he does that kind of thing, you know, you just bat those big brown eyes of yours and say, ‘Oh, thank you, Dwight.’ He’ll be gettin’ all flustered then and rushin’ off, embarrassed like. See?” Luella nodded. “But then, honey, he be comin’ back around tomorrow and the next day to bump into you again! Ha ha ha,” she laughed. “They be callin’ that ‘puppy love’, that’s what that is,” she chided. Then she’d change the subject. “How’s your momma today, any better?” Luella’d report on whether Momma was feeling stronger or weaker and whether Grammy Mayetta made Momma lie down or not.

  “Mmm mmm,” Miss Pearl would say, taking it all in.

  “I think you were very lucky to have her,” Zach said.

  “Yeah, and the couple of times I went home, I wanted so badly to stay with her instead of with Daddy and Martin. But Grammy seemed so glad to have someone to talk to when I did come home that I hated to hurt her feelings.”

  “But when your Grammy passed on, you didn’t go home. I remember that.”

  “No, I talked to Daddy on the phone when she died. He and I had gotten distant by then, and I asked him if he wanted me to come home.” Lu stared at her nails.

  “You remember. I was working and going to school and trying to make ends meet, so I asked him if he wanted me to come home. That’s all I did, was ask. And all he said was that it was up to me, and if living up north was that important to me, maybe I should stay there. So I didn’t go. It just wasn’t worth it. I’d have had to take the train down, and it would take two days, just so I could spend the time sitting in silence with him.”

  She hesitated momentarily, then said, “You know the one argument we had, when I told him I was going to Temple no matter what he said, was really bitter. Actually, it was the only time I ever opposed him, and I was scared to death. He really lost it. He said he hoped one day I would appreciate what I had. He said our land was the foundation of our family and that college wasn’t everything in life. He hollered at me and said that I had what I did because poor, dumb, colored folk like him had handed it to me. He said I acted like the world owed me a living as an ‘African-American’. He hated that term. He’d go on and on. It was awful.” Lu shook her head, trying to shake the memory itself. “I swear, when we were in that house last week, I could still feel the anger.”

  “And the two of you never resolved it?” Zach asked.

  “How can you resolve things if one party never talks?” she asked sarcastically. “No, in my family nothing ever got resolved. It got buried, and you hoped that if you waited long enough it would disapp
ear and then, as if by magic, everything would be okay again. Maybe it was because my mother died, like you said. He changed after that. He wasn’t Daddy anymore, at least not to me. He changed a lot. He was angry. I could feel it, so I learned to keep my mouth shut and my head down. It was no way to grow up, I’ll tell you that.”

  Without warning, the back door burst open, and William came in from working out with his Cross Country team. He was soaking wet. “Man,” he said. “It’s pouring!” Lu and Zach looked toward the window with surprise. Neither of them had noticed the thunderstorm that blew in during their conversation.

  That afternoon the death certificate arrived in the mail. Lu stared at it. ‘Cause of death: cardiac arrest’.

  Your heart just stopped, she thought coldly. It just quit—how easy. You never had to apologize, did you? Immediately ashamed, she decided to sit down at the computer and check again for real estate companies in Flagler County. She found so many more than she anticipated initially that she narrowed her search significantly and found there were still an awful lot of properties for sale. In fact, there were so many, it was overwhelming. Even though she felt pressured, she finally decided to choose only those nationally recognized companies, but the websites insisted that she input her name and e-mail address before providing any information. I don’t need them knowing who I am. She was irked. All I want is to find out what the property is worth and what the standard sales commission is. Besides, I still don’t have the deed! In the back of her mind she dreaded calling her brother, although she knew she was forestalling the inevitable.

  Chapter Nineteen