by Ginny Dye
Moses exchanged a look with Franklin. They had spent many hours talking about the reality for black men in the South. “The South believes a Seymour victory for the Democratic Party will undo Reconstruction. They want that more than anything. They also realize the black vote could very well determine the election, so they’re doing all they can to make sure the blacks don’t vote.” Moses was surprised Jeremy didn’t already know this, but he supposed it was because the factory in Richmond was booming. Jeremy must have been too busy to be paying attention before he came to the plantation for his child’s birth, but that knowledge only made what Moses feel worse. Things like this would continue to happen because people weren’t paying attention.
“It’s real bad in some places,” Franklin said solemnly.
“How bad?” Jeremy asked.
“Merchants are cutting off credit to blacks who attend Republican meetings,” Moses informed him. “Landlords are threatening to evict blacks from the plantation and their homes, where they are sharecropping, if they don’t swear to never again vote for the Republican ticket.”
Jeremy sucked in his breath.
“That’s not the worst, though,” Moses said grimly. “The Ku Klux Klan is fulfilling its mission of spreading terror. They have assassinated a number of Republican leaders, both black and white. White gangs are roaming the streets, breaking up political meetings anywhere they find them. In Louisiana, there was a mob that invaded a plantation and murdered two hundred blacks who support the Republicans. The message is coming through loud and clear that if you vote, you risk your life and the life of those you love.” He continued, not attempting to mask the fury in his voice. “Black men want to vote, but I guarantee you there will be plenty of places where they don’t dare to.”
Jeremy sat back heavily, his face filled with sorrow. “And, so it continues.”
Moses was watching him closely. “You’re not surprised.” It was not a question.
Jeremy met his eyes. “No, I’m not surprised,” he agreed. “The Republican leadership is changing. The country is struggling economically. There is an increasing number of politicians who believe the issue of racial equality is far less important than economic concerns.” He paused. “I still believe Grant will be elected, but he is far more conservative than the Republican Party that established Reconstruction. He lacks strong ideological convictions, and his earliest promoters were the conservative and commercial interests in New York.”
“So, the blacks will pay the price again?” Franklin asked heavily.
Jeremy shook his head. “I don’t think so. At least not yet,” he amended. “While American politics are most certainly controlled by money, the business elite fear that if Seymour wins for the Democratic Party, it will reopen the whole question of Reconstruction. That will do nothing but cause fresh chaos. If Grant is elected president, they believe he will bring moderation, fiscal responsibility, and stable conditions for Southern investment.” He took a deep breath. “The Republican slogan for Grant’s campaign has been Reconstruction for the South, respectability for the nation, all overseen by the man whose slogan was, ‘Let us have peace.’”
Franklin stared into the dancing flames. “Why does that not make me feel better?”
“Because,” Moses retorted, “it means that black equality is only important as long as it makes economic sense.”
*****
Rose slipped into the room in between a strong set of contractions. “Hope has been fed. I settled her down early for the night.”
Carrie nodded and fixed her eyes back on Marietta. She kept her voice casual. “Want to give me a push?”
Marietta stared at her. “Already? I’ve been in labor for less than an hour.”
Carrie gave Polly a meaningful glance and then looked back at Marietta. “You’re not the only one who is impatient. Your baby is not willing to wait.”
“You mean I almost missed the birth of my niece?” Rose exclaimed. She grinned at Marietta. “I should have known you wouldn’t do anything like other women would do.”
Marietta tried to manage a grin, but her face whitened with pain. “Carrie…” she whimpered, fear filling her eyes.
“Push!” Carrie commanded. “The only way to stop hurting is to have this baby. Push!”
Marietta groaned, closed her eyes, and pushed. Her scream ripped through the air.
“I imagine that got the men’s attention,” Rose predicted. “Jeremy will be terrified because he knows it is too soon for you to have this baby.”
Carrie examined Marietta again, satisfied when she saw the crowning of a tiny head. She looked up at Rose as she gave Marietta a moment to recover. “Go tell Jeremy what is happening. Marietta is doing great, but this baby is definitely not interested in a normal birth. Explain it quickly, and then get back here so you don’t miss the action.”
Rose disappeared from the room quietly.
Marietta lay still for several minutes before another contraction took control.
“Push again,” Carrie commanded, smiling up at Rose when she slipped back into the room, an urgent question in her eyes. “You didn’t miss it,” she assured her. “Push!”
Marietta didn’t hesitate this time. She let loose a loud cry and bore down with all her might.
Carrie took hold of the tiny shoulders that emerged. She waited only a moment before repeating, “Push!”
With one final push, the tiny body slid into Carrie’s hands. Tears of joy swam in her eyes and mingled with her smile, but she blinked them back to focus on the new life she was holding.
“Carrie?” Marietta whispered.
“You have a beautiful son,” Carrie said happily. “He’s perfect!”
Marietta broke into tears, her face suffused with bright joy. “A boy…”
Carrie handed him gently to Polly. “We’ll get him cleaned up, and then I’ll bet he’s ready for his first meal.”
“Oh…!”
Carrie whipped back around as Marietta’s body was jolted with fresh pain.
“What is happening?” Marietta cried. “What’s wrong? You told me the pain would stop when I had my son!” The look in her eyes was a mixture of accusation and fear.
Carrie looked at Polly, recognizing the old midwife had suspected the same thing she had. “You go ahead and take care of Jeremy Marcus,” she said softly. “Rose and I will help Marietta bring his brother or sister into the world.”
“What?” Marietta demanded, confusion replacing the fear as she blinked her eyes. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you’re not having just one child. You’re having twins,” Carrie replied. “I suspected you might but—but I wasn’t certain.” She settled down on the chair again, while Rose took Polly’s place next to Marietta.
“Like I said,” Rose whispered. “You’re not willing to do things like most women.”
“Twins?” Marietta gasped. “Twins?”
“Twins,” Carrie assured her. “The next one should come fairly easily because the birth canal has already been stretched.” She knew her prediction was right when a strong contraction resulted in the crowning of another little head. “Here it comes,” she called. “Push!”
Marietta bore down with all her strength. It took only three strong pushes for her son’s twin to enter the world.
Carrie laughed as the baby slid into her hands, and then locked eyes with Rose.
The new parents had some decisions to make.
Chapter Three
Jeremy gazed down at his son and daughter, his eyes soft with love. “They’re beautiful,” he whispered. He searched Marietta’s eyes, knowing that the idea of what could happen would not compare with reality. What if she regretted her decision?
Marietta read his thoughts. “They are beautiful,” she agreed. “And they are perfect.”
Jeremy let out his breath slowly. His eyes first devoured his son. A thatch of red hair topped a cherubic face lit by blue eyes. He was smaller than normal, but Carrie said that was
to be expected since they were twins. She had assured him both the babies were strong and healthy. “Jeremy Marcus Anthony,” he said quietly. “Welcome to the world.”
Then he turned to gaze down at his daughter. Curly black hair topped a caramel-colored body that was very clearly mulatto. Her eyes were blue now, but they would almost assuredly change to brown. She was not as dark as her namesakes, but no one would mistake her for a white child. “Sarah Rose Anthony,” he whispered as he stroked her velvety smooth arm. “Welcome to the world.”
The first flicker of anxiety came to life in Marietta’s eyes. “I wonder what the world will be like for our children.”
“Because of their color?”
Marietta shook her head. “No, my love. Because the world is a scary place in general right now. It wouldn’t matter what color they had been born. We’re bringing them into a crazy world.”
Jeremy relaxed again, scolding himself for fearing Marietta would feel any differently than what she obviously felt.
“We knew this could happen,” Marietta said gently.
“Yes,” Jeremy agreed, “but when you’re the reason it’s happening—when you’re the reason your children will face even more challenges than the normal child—it can be a little harder to absorb.”
Marietta considered his words. “I suppose you’re right,” she finally said, and then looked back down at the babies nestled in the crooks of her arms. “All I know is that we have two beautiful, healthy children. It’s so much more than other people have. I can be nothing but grateful.” She smiled when they whimpered in unison, and then she settled each of them on a breast to nurse.
Jeremy was content to revel in the beautiful sight for a long time. The flaming fire cast a warm glow into the room. The breeze that had kicked up that afternoon had grown into a strong wind that rattled the window panes and caused the tree outside to brush its limbs against the glass. He knew the cold front the wind was ushering in would drop the temperature, but he was snug with his family. Let the weather do what it wanted.
When the babies had full bellies, they snuggled into their mama, closed their eyes, and fell sound asleep. Jeremy had never felt such a strong protective urge in his life. He would do anything to protect his family. He had a sudden understanding that this was what being a father was about. “I wasn’t sure I would feel it,” he murmured.
“Feel it?” Marietta asked with a puzzled look on her face.
“What it feels like to be a father,” Jeremy explained in a halting voice, not sure how to put words to his feelings. “My father was an amazing man, but the man who gave birth to me was nothing but a selfish bastard. He had no problem getting rid of me since a white baby created quite a problem for him here on the plantation. I think… I think I was afraid I might be more like him.”
Marietta’s eyes stroked his face. “There is not a cell in your body that is like your biological father,” she assured him. “You are the most giving, loving man I have ever known. These babies are the luckiest children in the world to have you as their father.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to give them a good life,” Jeremy vowed. He let his eyes roam their tiny bodies again, and then looked back at Marietta. “We’re moving to Philadelphia,” he said quietly.
“Is that an order?” Marietta asked, her tired blue eyes flashing with the fire that permeated her spirit.
“I’m suggesting,” Jeremy replied. “But I do believe it is the best thing,” he added.
Marietta gazed down at Sarah Rose’s tiny face for several long moments. “What will we do in Philadelphia?”
Jeremy hoped she wouldn’t mind that he had prepared for this possibility, but he was also confident he was meant to have done it. It struck him that his stubborn and independent wife had acquiesced easily, but he shouldn’t have been surprised; teaching in the Black Quarters had shown her how difficult life would be for her daughter. Perhaps her easy acquiescence, more than anything else, told him just how right the decision was. It somehow eased the angst that accompanied the decision.
Once again, Marietta read his thoughts. “It’s hard to leave Richmond, but we’ve both had seven months to consider the possibility. We haven’t talked in concrete terms until now, but little Sarah Rose deserves a better life than she will have here. I also can’t deny it will be wonderful to be closer to my family,” she said, her eyes drooping with fatigue. “I would like to get some sleep, but it would be helpful to know if there is a plan in place before I do. I suspect I will sleep better.”
Jeremy nodded and grasped her hand. “The manager of Cromwell Factory in Moyamensing gave his notice several weeks ago. Thomas and Abby told me I could take over if needed.”
Marietta’s eyes narrowed. “How do you feel about that?”
Jeremy smiled. “I think it’s a wonderful plan. I will miss Richmond, and miss being with Thomas and Abby, but there are many benefits.” His gaze caressed the twins. “The biggest benefit is safety for our children.”
Marietta fought to keep her eyes open. “There is prejudice and bigotry in Philadelphia too,” she murmured.
“Yes,” Jeremy agreed, “but the KKK isn’t there, and it will be far easier to protect them and give them both opportunities.” He paused, and then told her the rest she would want to know. “We’ll buy a home at some point, but in the meantime, we will be staying at Abby’s home in Philadelphia. All the medical students have moved out recently, so it is empty.”
Marietta’s eyes met his with gladness, then closed slowly. Her easy breathing told him she had fallen asleep. Jeremy was content to stand and watch his family. Wonder filled him as he examined the twins’ tiny faces. Wispy lashes rested on their cheeks, their bodies lax on Marietta’s chest. He felt love and protectiveness expand his heart until he found it difficult to breathe. He’d never known it was possible to feel this way.
The wind was now accompanied by rain cracking against the windowpanes and sizzling against the flames as a few drops found their way down the chimney. The glow from the fire wrapped his family in a golden light. It was a long time before he piled on more logs and went downstairs. He knew the others were waiting for him.
*****
Carrie looked up as Jeremy entered the dining room. She pointed toward the empty plate. “I imagine you’re starving.”
Jeremy grinned as he sat down. “I’m not the one who just gave birth to twins, and Annie stuffed me with chicken and dumplings earlier.”
Annie pushed in through the door. “But you ain’t had none of my apple pie yet,” she proclaimed as she placed a huge piece in front of him. “Amber and Felicia just picked these here apples today.”
“It’s the best apple pie you’ll ever have,” Felicia assured him, her dark eyes glowing in the lantern light.
Jeremy willingly took a bite, and then nodded his head. “Since Marietta can’t hear me say this, I’ll admit it’s the best pie I’ve ever eaten.”
Annie snorted. “Miss Marietta don’t know how to make no apple pie.”
“She certainly does,” Felicia replied, her eyes dancing with fun.
Annie placed her hands on her hips while she glared at her granddaughter. “Let me guess. You done gave Miss Marietta somethin’ in a book that was ‘sposed to teach her how to make an apple pie.” Her eyes flashed. “That’s pure nonsense, girl.”
Felicia grinned. “It taught Janie how to make biscuits like yours,” she reminded her indignant grandmother.
Annie shook her head and sighed dramatically. “What am I gonna do with you? Don’t you know cookin’ got to be passed down through family? You can’t be learnin’ everythin’ in a book!”
Felicia gazed at her grandmother with sympathetic eyes. “You may not be able to learn everything, but you can certainly learn how to make an apple pie.”
“Says who?” Annie demanded.
Felicia nodded toward Jeremy. “Ask him.”
Jeremy ducked his head as if he could avoid Annie’s penetrating stare.
A
nnie stalked over to stand next to him. “What she be talkin’ about?”
Jeremy sighed, knowing this exchange wasn’t going to end well. All he really wanted to do was talk about the twins, and about their coming move, but he knew Annie wouldn’t let it go now that her ire had been raised. “Marietta made me a pie last week while you were over at Blackwell Plantation,” he mumbled.
Annie snorted again. “Bet it weren’t no good!”
Jeremy hesitated. He wanted to agree with her, but he also didn’t want to be disloyal to Marietta. In truth, it had been a fabulous pie. “It was pretty good,” he finally said. He raised his eyes to meet Annie’s indignant ones. “You should be proud of Felicia for teaching her. They had fun that day following the recipe they found.”
Annie’s eyes widened as her lips thinned. “I ain’t thankin’ nobody for breakin’ generations of tradition.” She whirled toward Felicia. “You should be ashamed of yourself, little girl!”
Felicia’s grin faded for the first time as she anxiously studied her grandmother’s face. “I—”
Moses came to her defense. “Felicia, you have nothing to apologize for.” He stood to face Annie. “I think that’s enough, Mama. She didn’t mean any harm.”
“Then she’s got to learn to stand up for herself,” Annie retorted.
Moses stared at her for a long moment, obviously at a loss for words.
Only then did Jeremy see the laughter lurking in the old woman’s eyes.
“What are you saying?” Rose asked, her eyes searching Annie’s face.
“Land sakes,” Annie declared, her face softening with compassion as she gazed at Felicia. “You goin’ against every little thin’ anyone done told you that you ought to be doing, Felicia. You be goin’ to college, and you be thinkin’ you gonna change the world for black women. If I be any prouder of you I reckon I would split wide open, but you’s got to toughen up. Ain’t many people gonna like what you doin’ so you gots to learn how to stand up for what you believe is right. Ain’t I speakin’ the truth?” she demanded, leaning over to stare into Felicia’s face.