“Oh, sure.” Annie placed the box on the chair, acting as if she brought lunches up to handsome men like him all the time. “Glad to help.” She raised a hand in a little wave. “I’ll be getting along, then.”
Annie backed toward the doorway, then turned and hopped down the attic stairs as fast as her feet would take her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Have Hassee take you.”
Annie glanced up from the phone book, where she’d been flipping through the pages, searching for a taxi service to take her to town. Her books were boring her, and she wanted to do something with her hands. The circular from the yarn shop she’d retrieved from the mail two days ago fell off the foyer table when she walked by, and she considered that a sign. There was nothing like new yarn to spark her creativity and get her fingers moving on a new afghan.
Suppressing the excited leap in her chest, Annie frowned. “What?”
Grandmother poured a steaming cup of coffee from her one-cup maker. “Have Hassee take you into town. I’m sure he won’t mind.”
“Grandmother, I’m married.”
The old woman laughed. “Now, who’s jumping to conclusions, Annie, dear? It’s not a date.”
Annie pressed her lips together and turned away to hide her blush. “I’m sure he’s busy.”
“He’ll be glad to do it. I’ll ask him when he gets here.” Her grandmother was so transparent as to be embarrassing.
“Grandmother, no. I’ll call a cab. It can’t cost that much.” Even as she spoke, she heard the low rumble of the truck coming up the drive.
Grandmother Lise was already on the porch. She certainly could move fast when she wanted to.
Resigned to her fate, Annie closed the phone book and replaced it on the sideboard. She would be as quick as possible. She needed just to run into the yarn shop and run right back out. She nodded. No more than twenty minutes. It would be rude to keep him waiting longer than that.
On her way out to the porch, she checked her hair in the mirror hanging in the foyer. After an hour of tussling with the curling iron and sleeping in rollers, her hair looked halfway decent. She shook her head at herself in the mirror. Why the heck did she even care? Richard wasn’t due till Friday night and with this weather, the hairdo would be limp by then.
When she appeared at the door, her Grandmother and Hassee were head to head in conversation at the bottom of the stairs.
Shaking with suppressed excitement, she forced her lips into a pleasant smile. “Good morning, Hassee.”
“Miss Annie-Lise. Very good morning to you.”
The moment her name issued from his lips, her forced smile became brilliantly real. The sound of his voice made her body tremble to her core and her breathing quicken. Easy there, girl. You’re a married woman.
But then, as her Grandmother said, what kind of marriage did she have?
Careful not to let her warring thoughts show in her face, she gave Hassee a little wave. “I promise I won’t be long. I’ll just run in and run out.”
He blessed her with that beautiful smile of his. “No rushing yourself. I just told Miz Lise that my saw decided to quit on me. I’ve got to have a couple of boards cut and wait on some paint. You take all the time you need.”
Grandmother nodded. “Pick up some fresh bread at the bakery and maybe a cake.”
~* * * *~
Used to Richard’s low convertible and her mini-Cooper, Annie accepted Hassee’s assistance climbing into his truck. Once settled, she sat frozen, clutching her purse in her lap. The inside of the truck smelled good, like an earthy men’s cologne and the fresh linen of the little tree hanging from the rear view mirror.
The radio played low, tuned to a talk radio station. From the snatches of conversation, she gleaned they were talking about hockey, a sport she held little to no interest in.
“Your grandmother is a very interesting woman.” Hassee switched off the radio with a flick of his hand. “She has definite ideas of what she wants.”
Annie laughed. “That’s for sure.” She searched for something else to say. “Do you do a lot of work for her?”
“A little here, a little there. Don’t tell her I said this, but sometimes she waits too long to call me in.” He grinned. “If she would call me as soon as something happens, it would be easier to fix.”
“She is not one to admit defeat, even if it’s a loose board.” Annie relaxed against the charcoal gray seats.
The visit to town was short and pleasant. Annie made quick work of her visit at the yarn store, picking up skeins of her favorite colors and trying out some Japanese wool.
Even so, Hassee was waiting for her in the truck when she was done.
The ride back was just as quiet as before. But it was a nice comforting quiet.
“You made it back in one piece.” Grandmother was sitting on the porch smoking when Annie got out of the car. “You did quite a bit of damage at that yarn store, Annie.” She laughed. “Are you sure they have stock left for everyone else?”
Annie laughed, feeling reckless and carefree. Hefting the bag in her right hand, she trotted up the steps to the porch and gave her Grandmother a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll make you something, I promise.”
Hassee pulled the boards off the back of the truck and mounted the porch stairs. “Miss Lise. I’ll have the attic done for you by the end of the day. Sorry for the delay.”
Grandmother waved her hand. “Don’t matter about the time, Hassee. I got plenty of it.”
Annie opened the door for him, and he went in and up the stairs.
“How’d you like your visit?”
“The town was very nice and quaint.” Annie dropped her bag of yarn and settled in the chair next to Grandmother. “A lot of nice shops.”
“I’m talking about your visit with Hassee.” Grandmother blew out a plume of smoke. “I’m sure you two had a nice chat.”
“Grandmother, please.” Annie pulled out a skein of yarn and rolled it in her hands. “Hassee drove me to town, and that’s it. Let’s not go in that direction.’
“He lost his wife and baby five years ago. Doctor’s mistake. He got quite a bit of money from the settlement. He does this work just to keep himself busy.” Grandmother gave her the eye. “Worth thinking about.”
Annie sighed. “I’m married.” Even as she said the words, she wished deep down there were some way she could get a start-over card, that there was a way to reverse the stupid mistakes she’d made.
Her grandmother let out a huff of disgust and shook her head. “Stubborn girl.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Village Realm…
The village was quiet at this time of night. Above her, the stars shone in the clear night sky. Mattie laid the now-quiet baby down at her mother’s side. Another group of escaped slaves had been brought in. These people had come from as far away as northern Georgia and were weary from the journey. She and the other women tended to them the best they could; still some were so weak and worn out that they died, but at least they died free.
Mattie waved a palmetto fan over the mother and her baby. Bundled sage burned close by to keep the mosquitoes away, and she had become adept at mixing the sticky ointment that kept the flies at bay. She touched the seed bead necklaces around her neck. Haiola had given her five of them over the past few months but had not gone any further. The other women took it for granted that she now belonged to him and treated her as such.
“Mattie.” His voice came from behind her, accompanied by a gentle touch on the shoulder. “Walk with me?”
“Yes,” she said. After checking on the sleeping infant one more time, she allowed him to help her down the several steps of the chicapee to the ground. As they walked through the settlement, women stirred pots of thick stew and baked bread for the evening meal.
Cheti Haiola’s—Rising Star—hand was warm in hers. “You must understand that it will be hard for us, as it is hard for every brown person in this nation. The white man truly believes we are less than
he and cannot understand that everything does not belong to him.” He drew her closer and put an arm about her waist. “There is a story about a great chief and his Negro wife They were in a trading post, and white men took his wife away. They said she was someone’s property and had to be returned to its rightful owner.” His voice hardened with emotion. “They wish to destroy everything they cannot have. But…” He stopped walking and tipped her chin up. “…That Indian chief killed every white man in his path until he got his bride back. I will not let them take you.” He leaned forward and kissed her. “Will you share my pallet tonight?”
Warmed by his kiss, Mattie nodded in assent. “I will, yes.”
“Good. We will be blessed by the medicine man tomorrow as a public gesture, but the Great Spirit already blesses us. I knew that when I found you in the swamp.”
At the reminder of how she got there, Mattie stepped back from his embrace. She had to tell him. “I must tell you this, Haiola. I...” Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes and ran down her cheeks. “I used to belong to the white man. I—he used me...” She lowered her voice to a whisper; her shame was so great. “…He lay with me as he lay with his wife.” She raised her sleeve to dry her tears. “You may not wish to have me as your chahiwah now.”
The relief of finally telling him mixed with the fear of him not wanting her. She pressed her lips together, still feeling the tingle of his kiss. No matter. She would continue to fight to free slaves. “I understand if you no longer want me, Haiola. I have been soiled.” She made a move as if to go away.
He seized her arm and held fast. “No, Mattie.” He pulled her to his chest and kissed her fiercely. When he released her, they were both breathing heavy. “It is of no matter to me. He is the soiled one, to take advantage of you. I will take you as my wife.” He stroked her braids. “And if I ever meet up with him, I will kill him.”
Tucked in the crook of his arm, Mattie nodded in agreement, but in her heart, she wanted to be the one to do it.
The next day, Haiola took her as his wife, and the shaman blessed them with these words:
May the Great Spirit guide your steps when there is no moonlight.
CHAPTER NINE
It wasn’t fair. Richard parked in the graveled drive, grabbed his overnight bag and slammed the car door. With a frown on his face, he surveyed the rolling lawn, the huge house, and the woods beyond. Why should the old woman have what was rightly his? This should be his house, his land.
Shoulders aching from the long drive, he stalked up the porch stairs, royally pissed off that Annie wasn’t there to meet him. He rapped on the heavy oak door, wondering if they were even home at all. If they weren’t, then how would he get in? Maybe it was a mistake, leaving his wife here under the undue influence of the old biddy. He slapped at the mosquitoes trying to use him for their evening meal.
Just as he was considering trying to get in through a window, his wife opened the door, a strange expression on her face. “Richard, hello.” She pushed opened the screen door to allow him to enter. “We were just sitting down to dinner.”
“Traffic was bad,” he grumbled, walking in behind her and closing the door. “It was a mess on 95.”
Annie just stood there, her expression barely registering interest. Instead of hanging on to every word, she had an air of bored tolerance about her, as if she were simply waiting for him to finish.
He paused, unsure of how to address this new attitude.
“Yes, well, I’ve got to get back my dinner. You come down when you’re ready.” Annie turned and walked into the dining room.
Too tired to argue, and needing to check for an urgent email, Richard took his bag upstairs.
The old computer in the room adjacent to the bedroom must have been manufactured when Bill Gates was running Microsoft out of his garage. The DSL connection was no comparison to the high-speed connection he had at work. Also, his phone refused to hold a connection long enough to download anything.
Stomach growling, he clicked on the browser and waited for the program to open. After about thirty seconds, he gave up. He was too hungry to process anything but a good meal right about now. The email would have to wait. By the time he washed up and had dinner, the browser might ready to use.
Downstairs, he entered a dark dining room. Annie and the old lady were nowhere to be found. In the kitchen, there was a plate sitting on top of the microwave, covered with a white linen napkin.
Richard ate his dinner in the quiet kitchen, his mind on the email and the strange change in Annie’s attitude. She hadn’t even called upstairs to check on him, when usually she would be there, unpacking his overnight bag and setting up everything the way he liked it. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. She was up here with his permission.
He never realized how quiet the house was until now. There were no outside sounds but the crickets and if he strained his ears, he thought he could hear the sounds of a television somewhere in the house. Richard rinsed his plate and put it the sink with the others, surprised that Annie hadn’t washed the dinner dishes.
First, he would check the email, then have a little chat with Annie, wherever she was. Richard mounted the stairs two at a time, hoping to see good news rather than bad. Taking a second mortgage on the house hadn’t been in the plan, but when the broker called him to tell him the bad news, it was the only way he could cover his overages.
What Annie didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, right?
He entered the bedroom and made the hard left past the bed into the adjoining room.
Annie sat in front of the computer, reading his email. She glanced up at him briefly when he entered the room, then went back to her clicking without a word.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“I should be asking you the same thing.” Annie cocked an eyebrow at him. “You’re taking out a second mortgage when you can barely pay the first?” She got up from the desk and walked up to him. “How could you do this to us?”
“You’ve got a lot of mouth,” Richard replied, a little surprised at her boldness. “Who are you to question me? I’m the one working for a living in the house.”
“I wanted to get a job,” Annie shot back, her eyes fiery. “You didn’t want me to. You took my parent’s money and making a mess of things.”
“I want you at home. And there’s nothing going on with the company that I can’t solve.”
“You’re full of shit. You’re going to ruin us.” Annie pushed past him on her way into the bedroom.
Shocked, Richard almost let her pass. What had happened in the last two weeks that made her so bold? And how long was it going to take to knock it out of her? He reached out and grabbed her hair, twisting the strands in his fingers as he jerked her backward. “Now you listen to me, you little whore.” He squeezed his hand into a fist, and she whimpered. Using his grip to guide her, he marched her through the doorway to the bed, where he made her sit on the mattress. “Are you listening?” He kept his voice calm and level. Shouting would expend too much energy and make too much noise.
Annie nodded as best she could, tears sliding down her cheeks and hands folded in her lap. All the bravado of minutes before had drained out of her, and she was his again. “I’m listening,” she whispered.
“Good. I’m going to tell you this once, and once only. Stay out of my email. It’s none of your business.”
“But Richard, the house, we can’t—where will we live?” Annie wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
“It’s a second mortgage, not a foreclosure, although I expect you would be too stupid to know the difference.” Grabbing her hair again, he jerked her head upward and slapped her across the face.
Her head rocked backward, and she stared at him with dull eyes. “I just thought…”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Let me do the thinking here.”
Annie nodded, a trail of blood trickling from her nose.
Good. A good lesson for her
. “Now, you mind your business and do as I say. Act like a wife ought to act, not like some common street trash. Got it?”
She nodded, all the fight gone out of her. “Yes.”
Richard yanked her to her feet. He had to resist the urge to make her strip and fuck her. Time enough for that later. He grinned. Didn’t want to get blood on dear Grandmother’s precious sheets. “Go in the bathroom and clean yourself up. Your nose is bleeding.”
~* * * *~
Gingerly, Annie touched her nose with a wet towel, shocked at the dark red stain on the white terrycloth. He was right to be angry. She shouldn’t have read his email. It was his private domain, and she had no right to go snooping.
The subjects flashed through her mind. Besides the loan approval and other financial notes, there were the “thanks for Wednesday” and “lunch on me” emails. One said, “take a look” and contained a full frontal shot of some willing female. Blonde with long hair covering her boobs. Not all of her boobs, though. One pink nipple peeked through the blonde strands to mock her.
Annie sat down on the closed toilet seat and put her head in her hands. Her face felt hot, her cheek burned from the slap. She had always known that Richard was having affairs, but she kept herself willfully ignorant. Now the evidence, all the evidence was too much to be denied. And the house! What was he doing with the house?
Richard knocked on the door. “Let’s not take all day in there. I need you out here.”
She shuddered, sensing the eagerness in his voice. “I’ll be out in a minute.” Checking herself in the mirror, she wondered why Richard hated her so much. Why couldn’t she have someone who loved her?
CHAPTER TEN
After suffering the indignities of his hands all over her body, Annie lay staring at the ceiling. The same movie ran in her head, the story of her triumph, where she killed Richard, hid his body and lived a life without fear. She turned on her side to watch him sleep.
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