by Lyn Cote
The congregation answered, “No!” It made Jessie jump. She’d never heard a pastor actually get a reply.
“That’s right! No! And He’ll show the same kindness to us! Peter was there with the Holy Christ right beside him, yet he still could think small thoughts. Are we any better?”
Jessie was prepared this time for the “No!” that resounded around her.
“So, brethren, let’s be kind to one another. You know we aren’t supposed to judge. No, we’re not. But we judge anyway. Yes, we do! Are any of us worthy? No, not one. Remember that and be kind.” A chorus of “Amen!” followed this and with a simple prayer, the service ended.
The pastor went to the door to shake hands. Jessie and Linc were politely ushered to the front of the line. “Good morning, sister, I’m Reverend Mitchell.” Feeling shy, she shook his hand, the first time ever she touched dark skin.
“I’m Mrs. Wagstaff. Reverend, I would like to ask your advice about a matter when you’re free.”
He replied, “Mrs. Wagstaff, you might as well speak plainly. No one here will go about their business till you state your reason for visiting our service.” His words were direct, but spoken kindly.
Jessie blushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude, but I am looking for a woman to help me at home. I’m a widow and I’m going to take in two more boarders to support myself, but I need help. Especially since my son takes up so much of my time.”
“I see,” said the Reverend. “You want someone reliable.”
Jessie nodded, then leaned down to wipe a smudge off Linc’s cheek.
A tall, young man at the pastor’s elbow said sharply, “Ask her how much she’s willing to pay.”
The pastor frowned. “I intend to ask that, son.”
“I don’t know exactly.” Jessie bit her lower lip. “I am receiving two dollars a week from my present boarder, so I’d probably be taking in about six dollars a week. But I don’t know how much it will cost to feed six people—”
The young man spoke up sharply again, “So you expect her to work for room and board like a slave?” The man’s words visibly shocked his father. Many of those standing around cast him upset glances.
Affronted, Jessie looked him in the eye. “No, I was thinking that since the money would be supporting three—the woman, my son, and me—that I would pay her one-third of what is left after expenses each week. Would that be fair?” There had been a moment of silence.
“Yes, ma’am, that sounds fair,” the old preacher said. He then cast his eyes over the waiting assembly. “Susan, would you like to work for Mrs. Wagstaff?”
“Yes, thank you, Rev’rund.” Susan came forward, clothed in a shabby gray dress with mended lace at the neck.
“How do you do, Susan?” Jessie offered her hand.
“How do, Miss Jessie.” She curtseyed to Jessie.
“Please call me Mrs. Wagstaff. I am your employer, not your mistress.”
Susan’s face registered a flash of happiness and she curtseyed again. “Yes, Mrs. Wagstaff.”
The present church pipe organ reverberated with the final chords of the hymn, jolting Jessie’s thoughts back to the present. I must find someone to help Susan’s people. Lord, help me. Jessie sat down amid sounds of skirts rustling and Bible pages turning.
In the discreet well-bred silence that followed, the minister read the New Testament Scriptures for the morning, Galatians 3:28: “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus.”
Jessie drank in these words of purity and devotion and tried to let love blossom inside her heart for her stepfather. Her mother nodded in Linc’s direction. Linc, sitting with his hands folded in his lap, was silently swinging his legs back and forth. Her stepfather demanded all children imitate statues in church. Her stomach burned with her resentment. Lord, forgive me. I hate him. Linc looked up innocently. She pointed to his legs and shook her head. A sudden, tiny grin lighting his face, he obeyed. Inwardly she was delighted. It was times like these that she most saw her Will in his undaunted son.
At long last, the minister concluded his sermon. After two hours of obeying her stepfather’s strictures, Jessie felt choked. Any longer and she wouldn’t have been able to breathe. Jessie followed her mother down the crowded church aisle, and down the stone steps. She had smiled mechanically to everyone who greeted her, but it was a deceiving mask and she hated it.
Shielded from the noonday sun by their white parasols, Jessie and her mother strolled home, side by side, smiling. Mother rarely smiled when her husband was near. A day in her stepfather’s galling company had to be endured as the only way to have her mother with her at Linc’s eighth birthday.
In honor of the day, Jessie had put off her “blacks” and worn her more festive dove gray with ivory white lace collar tatted by Margaret. As she and her mother ascended the steps of Wagstaff house, her stepfather hurried forward to open the door for them. Jessie looked away from him as they folded their parasols and stepped inside.
“I smell fried chicken,” Mother said.
“Yes, Susan stayed home from church to cook—”
“That’s her job, isn’t it?” Her stepfather hung his hat on the hall tree.
Jessie swallowed a stinging retort. I won’t give you any opportunity to leave early, stepfather. Mother and I are going to enjoy this day—come what may.
While her half brothers, Tim and Tom, followed their father’s sedate example, Linc ran ahead toward the kitchen. Her stepfather shook his head over Linc’s lapse of decorum. Pointedly ignoring the man, Jessie walked with her mother toward the parlor.
“Good morning, Esther,” Miss Wright’s voice from the parlor greeted Jessie’s mother, one of her former pupils.
Mother entered the sunny room and pressed her hand into the old woman’s. “It is so good to see you, ma’am, especially on such a happy day.”
“Yes, it is hard to believe the little scamp can really be eight today. I was remembering Margaret’s delight at receiving God’s gifts of a son, then a grandson. I’ve been enjoying memories all morning. Margaret and I were girls together, you know.”
The spinster’s mellow mood surprised Jessie, but Will’s mother had been the old woman’s best, nearly her only friend. “I must check on dinner,” Jessie murmured and rustled down the hall through the kitchen curtain.
“I heard y’all come in.” Susan lifted the black iron skillet’s lid to pierce the sizzling chicken with a large fork, checking its doneness.
“Everything smells delicious. What can I help with?” Jessie reached for her apron.
“You put that apron back,” Susan ordered. “Everything’s done and this is your day to celebrate. Now get out of this hot kitchen!” Susan matched her words by waving her hands toward Jessie, shooing her.
Jessie chuckled. “Where did Linc disappear to?”
“He went out to water that pup Mr. Smith brought him yesterday. I’ll send Linc back to the parlor when his hands is all wash again.”
Nodding, Jessie returned to the parlor to sit beside her mother, deep in conversation with Miss Wright. From under her lashes she observed her stepfather’s keen gaze looking for dust.
A complacent smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She’d left no dust anywhere and her floors shone like crystal. Her back and arm muscles still ached from a day spent cleaning and polishing. Nothing her stepfather could say now or later would spoil this day for her mother, Linc, and herself.
A knock sounded on the front door. Jessie rose to open it. She found Mr. Smith standing on the front porch with a bouquet of pink and white carnations.
“For my hostess.” He laid them into her arms.
A tingle of exhilaration robbed her of speech. She fingered the slender petals of one carnation. “Thank you. I can’t remember when I last received flowers.” She felt herself blushing.
Footsteps on the porch. Jessie stepped farther inside and motioned Dr. Gooden in. He
held out a bouquet of pink roses to her.
She felt an instant restraint or maybe it was tension, between the two men. She couldn’t think why that should be. But the experience of holding two bouquets from two different men struck her speechless for a moment. Then she scolded herself for being silly. Of course, being polite, they would bring hostess gifts to her. Suddenly she recalled her stepfather sat only a few feet away from her. That made her stiffen. “Please come in.”
At her request the two gentlemen hung their hats on the hall tree and followed her to the parlor. She introduced them as “Lincoln’s friends” to her parents, “Mr. and Mrs. Hiram Huff.” Under her stepfather’s scrutiny, Jessie held her flowers casually. “I’ll have to find a vase for these,” she murmured.
Sensing Jessie’s insecurity, Lee diverted attention from her. “Where’s the birthday lad?”
“He’s out back watering Butch,” Jessie said.
“Butch?” Huff repeated.
The man’s negative tone instantly put Lee on guard. Lee watched the way Jessie took a deep breath and composed her mouth into a forced smile. He couldn’t recall Jessie ever behaving so unnaturally before.
“Butch is the puppy Mr. Smith gave Linc for his birthday,” Dr. Gooden said approvingly. “A fine pup.”
Lee glanced at the doctor, surprised at his support.
“A dog,” Huff blustered.
One of the twins asked in obvious awe, “Linc got a dog?”
“Children,” Huff barked at his son who flushed a deep red, “are to be seen and not heard.” He glared at Jessie. “You have heard me say time after time, town dogs are just a nuisance. He’ll dig up your yard, draw flies, and infest your house with fleas. What will your boarders say to that?”
“Butch isn’t a house dog,” Miss Wright spoke up.
Lee could hardly believe his ears. I didn’t know the old woman had it in her. Lee eyed Huff with distaste. “That’s correct. Linc and I built a doghouse together for him, sir.”
Dr. Gooden nodded and added, “Linc promised to walk him each morning and each evening. I told him he must keep Butch tied up and wet him down in the hot afternoons.”
Reluctantly Lee gave the doctor an imperceptible nod of thanks. The stepfather choked back his ire with evident displeasure. He might bully the women, but how could he argue with two men who approved of the pet? Linc is going to have his dog whether you like it or not.
“Mr. Smith, it’s very good of you to take time for Lincoln,” Jessie’s mother said quietly.
“My pleasure, ma’am.”
“Mother!” Linc burst into the sunny room, hugging a small brown-and-white pup. “Everyone’s in the backyard! Come on!”
As Huff lunged toward the boy, Lee moved forward protectively. When his mother didn’t move, Linc grabbed her hand and pulled her through the hall and kitchen.
Lee, followed by Dr. Gooden, had to nearly run to keep up with them. The four of them came to a halt on the back porch, next to Susan who stood stock still on the top step, transfixed.
A dozen of the black community had gathered in Jessie’s backyard. Lee recognized these friends of Susan’s whom he had seen come and go through Jessie’s back door. In their midst, Lee picked out the face of the bent old but untroubled preacher who had called on Susan just the week before. Beside him stood a very round, short woman with gray hair, peeking out from under a calico turban. The old woman’s clothes were faded, tattered and her wide feet were bare.
Suddenly Susan came out of her shock and shrieked, “Ruby! Grandma Ruby!” As the girl raced down the steps, the old woman tottered forward. Susan threw herself into those open arms. “Grandma Ruby, I never thought I’d see you again! You’re alive!”
“I been lookin’ these last five years for you, my honey.” Ruby rocked Susan back and forth in her arms as though the young woman was just a child once more. “I walk miles and miles and ask a thousand people ’n’ more—where be my girl, my onliest girl? Praise God!” Ruby burst into tears.
Lee felt his throat thicken. A homecoming. A reunion.
Jessie stood like a statue pressing both bouquets to her breast. She must have felt Lee’s attention on her because she looked up at him. She murmured, “Susan was sold away from her only relative, her grandmother, when she was only thirteen.”
He acknowledged her explanation with a subdued nod.
Dr. Gooden cleared his throat. “It is hard to believe that the Emancipation Proclamation is only signed eight years ago.”
Lee nodded soberly, watching the two women cling to each other, kissing, weeping, and laughing.
Jessie hurried down the steps straight to the two women. Susan, her face ashine with laughter and tears, turned her grandmother toward Jessie. Without waiting for a word of introduction, Jessie gave the bouquets to the old woman and threw her arms around her. “Welcome.”
From behind Lee, Huff’s outraged voice snapped, “What is all this commotion?”
Lee glanced coolly over at him.
But Dr. Gooden answered, “Susan is reunited with her long-lost grandmother.”
“That is all good and well, but the girl could go to her in their neighborhood. These people have no business here.” He clattered down the steps, headed straight for Jessie.
Lee couldn’t help but smile. He often didn’t like Jessie’s determined ways, but she wouldn’t tolerate this man ruining Susan’s reunion. He followed Huff at a discreet distance. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.
Keeping pace with Lee, Dr. Gooden leaned to speak close to Lee’s ear, “That man doesn’t know his stepdaughter very well, does he?”
“So it seems,” Lee replied with a wicked grin.
Huff’s voice boomed over the backyard, “Jessie, these people don’t belong here!”
Jessie replied, “Stepfather, this doesn’t concern you. Won’t you return to the parlor?”
Huff stopped directly in front of her. “These people must leave. What will the neighbors think?”
Lee watched Jessie lift her chin. Now the sparks will fly.
“This is no concern of my neighbors or of yours.”
Lee suppressed a grin at the honed steel in Jessie’s tone.
Hat in hand, the Reverend began edging away, “We’ll be leaving then, Mrs. Wagstaff. We didn’t come to cause friction. When we learned it was Susan our sister Ruby was searching for, we just couldn’t wait; we had to bring them together.”
Jessie put out her hand to forestall him. “There is no reason for you to leave on this happy occasion. Susan has made enough fried chicken and cake to feed an army. You can celebrate Susan and her grandmother’s reunion in my backyard while we celebrate Linc’s birthday in the dining room.” Jessie touched Susan’s arm.
Lee said to himself, That makes sense, Jessie, but Huff won’t buy it.
“But, Mrs. Wagstaff—” Susan began.
“Jessie.” Her stepfather grasped Jessie’s arm. “This will not do. Your neighbors will be appalled. Susan can visit her grandmother when she has her day off.”
Lee couldn’t wait to hear Jessie’s reply.
Jessie pulled away from Huff’s grip. In a deceptively soft tone, she said, “You are not the master here.”
Chapter 7
Lee read the despair on Mrs. Huff’s face as she stood beside her young sons and Miss Wright. She hurried down the back steps. White-faced, she opened her mouth.
Her husband silenced her, “We are leaving, Esther. Your stubborn daughter is making a spectacle of herself and I won’t subject you and our sons to such goings-on.”
“Goings-on?” Lee heard himself say. “She just wants Susan’s friends to eat cake in her backyard.”
Huff reached for his wife’s arm. She pulled back, eluding his grasp. “Please, Hiram,” she pleaded.
The anguish in the woman’s voice sliced through Lee like a scalpel.
“Esther, we’re leaving.”
The woman hesitated, visibly torn. Giving in to tears, she covered her mouth with the
back of her hand. She stepped in front of Linc, who still clutched his pup, and dropped to her knees on the dried-up grass. She pulled him to her, hugging him.
“Esther,” her husband insisted.
Lee fought the urge to confront Huff, the hard-hearted jerk. Lee’s hands curled into fists.
With a smothered sob, Jessie’s mother tore herself away from Linc. She rushed past her husband. When she reached her sons, she took each by the hand and hurried them into the house. Without a backward glance, Huff marched after her. From her place on the porch, Miss Wright huffed her displeasure and turned away, too.
Lee burned with outrage for Jessie. Lee imagined the satisfaction of his right fist connecting with the holier-than-thou’s jaw.
“Mrs. Wagstaff,” Reverend Mitchell said, “we didn’t mean to cause a break between you and your mother—”
“You didn’t.” She lifted her chin. “She made her choice years ago when she married Hiram Huff.” Then she smiled, a tight, a pitiful smile. “Frankly, Reverend, I prefer your company. Come, Susan, bring your grandmother up into the shade of the porch.”
Touched by Jessie’s brave front, Lee stood with his hand on Linc’s shoulder. As Jessie passed him, she asked, “Are you staying, then, Mr. Smith?”
He made his voice match hers in bravado, “Ma’am, the mere thought of Susan’s fried chicken makes my mouth water.”
“Dr. Gooden?” She paused in front of him.
He bowed. “I can only echo Mr. Smith.”
She smiled at both of them. “Come. I’ll need your help.”
“Mother, why doesn’t step-grandfather like us?” Linc struggled, but his puppy finally wiggled out of his grasp.
Jessie bent and kissed her son’s forehead. “It isn’t our fault, son. He doesn’t like very many people.”
And I imagine very few really like him, Lee commented inwardly.
“Mother can I…may I,” Linc amended, “get out of my Sunday clothes?”
“Lincoln, just because we won’t be eating in the dining…” she stopped. “I’m sorry, Linc. Of course, you can…may.”