LIZZY

by Jim Wetton

  She paused. She heard Nellie laugh about someone named Henry, or was it Charles? Lizzy smiled to herself at the silliness coming from her two daughters and turned back to the envelope at hand.

  She breathed in deep and opened it.

  Dear Momma and Papa,

  I’m sorry it has been so long since I’ve written and I’m in hopes that you all are doing well.

  Yes, we are, if your father would ever get home.

  I’ve been hesitating to write in order to ensure I had all the details in order to make my announcement. Well, I do and I want to take this opportunity to tell you that I got married.

  “What?!” Lizzy exclaimed, grabbing her robe tightly around her.

  “Momma, you OK in there?” Mary Elizabeth yelled out.

  Ignoring an answer, Lizzy continued.

  I think I wrote to you that I had met a wonderful woman. But if not, her name is Caroline White, well, I mean it was Caroline White, but now it’s Caroline McKeever. She is the love of my life; she’s not only beautiful, but very educated as well. She comes from an upstanding family. I do believe that I wrote to you that they were the family that welcomed me into their own when we left Oklahoma. Once we settled in San Francisco and after several prospects for employment, I finally found a job with the City. I do hope that Papa is proud of the position I’ve been offered. I’ll be in charge of future development, working side by side with the San Francisco City Manager. He has put me in charge of research and development of housing, concentrating on the area near the wharves.

  Please do write me and tell me all about New York. Papa, how’s the Stock Market? Better yet, how is James doing as your protégé? I write that with a bit of melancholy. I always wanted to make you proud, Papa. I know that my leaving must have hurt you terribly and for that I am so very sorry. Although we are three thousand miles away, I want you both to know that I am doing just splendid. I may not be the city slicker New York stock brokers that my father and little brother are, but I am doing just great. I see this city as one that is going to be a cornerstone for trade and finance. Funny with that being said, but you never know. Just think of it, Papa; you can control the finance from the East Coast and I’ll control it from the West Coast.

  Momma, this part is for you.

  Lizzy held firm to the handkerchief she’d been holding ever since she opened the letter.

  I just can’t wait to introduce you to Caroline. She and her mother have been extremely active in pushing for the rights of women. I know that’s been a passion for you ever since Grandpa died. Even though you never really shared what you found in that cedar chest of yours, I know that you found a calling of your own, to get women the right to vote. You’ll be most pleased to hear that you have your best advocate for women’s rights here on the West Coast. Mrs. Caroline McKeever will be your voice once you decide how you’re going to get the East Coast moving. I know she’s just waiting to get together with you to get her marching orders so the two of you—and of course, Mary Elizabeth and Nellie too—can walk up at the next election and all place your votes into the ballot box. I have given her my permission to pursue these ideas of yours, even though I for one don’t believe in them, but that can wait for another time.

  Speaking of women, has my little brother finally found a girl?

  Oh boy has he, wait till I write you back and what’s this about permission?

  I know he’s a little on the shy side, but you give him my encouragement, okay, Papa?

  Well, until I write again, I just want to tell you all how much I love you and can’t wait to tell you next how many children we have.

  Respectfully,

  William (and Caroline too)

  Lizzy wiped her cheek with her handkerchief. She placed the open letter against her chest and wished they weren’t so far away.

  “How was the letter?”

  Lizzy looked up and saw through the shadows of the lamp that Mary Elizabeth and Nellie were sitting in the hall.

  “It was so quiet that we thought you’d gone to bed. Once we peeked down the hall, we saw that you were reading a letter and by your many reactions, we assumed it was from William.”

  “You girls . . . ,” Lizzy breathed in a cry. “Your brother got himself married.”

  “I knew it!” Nellie nudged her sister.

  “Is it Caroline?” Mary Elizabeth asked.

  “Yes, it is, and he wrote that he’s very happy and doing great. I’ll let you two read the whole letter after your father gets home. He needs to get the next go-around, since I’ve stolen the first one.”

  Lizzy walked over to the mantel and though there was no fire, she looked deep within it. Her mind raced back to when her children were little. She looked above the mantel to the portrait of her Great-grandfather Jacob and the thought of him looking down on her family made her smile.

  “Momma?” Nellie called out. “It’s awful late; when’s Papa and James getting home?”

  “Yea, I’m getting hungry,” Mary Elizabeth added. “Those two didn’t go get dinner without us, did they? I’m telling you, if they did, I’m going to have a few words with that brother of mine.”

  “Now, now girls, I’m sure they’re just working late. Times are rough for them right now. Their clients are a bit on the—how should I say it?—testy side.”

  Nellie rose to her feet and gestured for Mary Elizabeth to join her in the kitchen.

  “How about if we get dinner ready for them? We McKeever women will take the lead and make sure the McKeever men come home to a house filled with the aroma of a home-cooked meal. Nothing better that a fat belly and a full . . . or something like that.”

  “Boy, sister, you’re really going to have to work on that if you’re ever going to lure that Henry Monroe up to your doorstep,” Mary Elizabeth teased loudly.

  “Henry Monroe?” Lizzy turned sharply from looking at Jacob’s portrait. “That’s an odd name. Any relations? I’m sure if it is, it’s going to be a relation that’s one hundred times-removed second cousin third side from the Monroe family that I came from; right, ladies?”

  Nellie stopped in mid-stride towards the kitchen and turned to her mother. “Wow, I never even thought of that kind of connection, Momma.”

  “Oh, I’m just teasing with you, girl.” Lizzy waved for Nellie to go on to the kitchen with a laugh.

  “I’ve seen him, Momma,” Mary Elizabeth said privately once Nellie had gone into the kitchen. “In fact, I’ve seen how they goggle over each other. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say between William getting himself married and James and Katherine soon to be married, that you might want to get yourself ready for the next announcement in the McKeever family; yes ma’am, I do.”

  Lizzy smiled at her oldest daughter. It was a hollow smile, but a smile never the less. She’s far too young. Then again, how old was I? How old was Hannah? How old is old enough?

  As she watched Mary Elizabeth stroll down the hall to join her sister in the kitchen, for some reason Hannah’s diary caught her eye. She always left it on top of the mantel just beneath Jacob’s portrait.

  God, almost forgot about Hannah’s diary. Lizzy scolded herself for putting the thought of Hannah’s request hidden in her own mind. Got to open up that diary again, so much I want do for her. First, got to talk to Martin. Then, got to. . . .

  Where the devil is that man, anyway?

  She thought of the first time she’d met Martin and a smile crossed her lips. She remembered the race she had with her little brother, Johnny Russell, to the house in Fredericksburg, only to find Martin waiting for her on the porch. She smiled at the thought of her wedding day. She thought of how her Grandpa Fez had made it all the way from Independence, Missouri to Wheeling, West Virginia to witness her vows to her new husband.

  We’ve been through a lot, Martin. Yes, we have. Courting me was, I’m sure, not an easy thing to do, with Papa always around looking over your shoulder. Our involvement in the Underground Railroad. Our rebuilding of Papa’s church and the an
nual Christmas Eve services that we never missed. And just recently, helping another woman, a daughter of someone we helped long ago, with investment help.

  That last thought made Lizzy laugh out loud.

  “Momma, you OK?” both girls said in unison.

  Lizzy ignored them.

  “Black hair care?”

  Lizzy had to laugh again at the thought of her husband supporting, not only in kind, but also in a large amount of their own personal savings on the speculation of a young black woman’s dream.

  Well husband, if you’re for it, so am I. Till death do we part, right?

  Lizzy was brought back to reality with a loud knock on the door. She giggled remembering that Martin had indeed left his keys on the hook inside the door.

  “I’m coming, husband, but I do tell you that we are done with this charade of yours.”

  Lizzy laughed and walked slowly to the door. She had every intention of making Martin wait outside.

  Maybe, just maybe if I make him wait long enough, he might just finally learn . . . Nah!

  “Momma, was that the door?” Nellie called out.

  “Tell him dinner’s not ready just yet,” Mary Elizabeth added. “Have him sit for a while and pour him a nice drink to ease the pain from all those ungrateful clients of his. He deserves better and you tell him that’s coming from his oldest and wisest daughter.”

  “What?” Nellie countered loudly.

  “Girls, girls . . . you hush and keep cooking. I’ll handle the menfolk,” Lizzy chuckled, just happy to have her boys safely home again.

  Lizzy didn’t even bother with peeking. She undid the short chain and opened the door with a wide smile.

  “Forgot your keys, again did you?”

  The two police officers didn’t know how to respond.

  They just asked to come inside.

  II

  KEEP THE VISION

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  How to Begin Again

  1894

  The trees had regained all their leaves after a nasty winter and the scent of cinnamon and clove was in the air. Children laughing from the neighbor’s back porch and a woman complaining about needing more dough to finish the night’s dessert carried into the McKeever’s house just off the Hudson.

  Lizzy put the diary down and thought of the very first time that she’d found it. In the depths of a cedar chest. On a rainy afternoon. Still reeling from the emotions of laying her father in his grave in Wheeling, West Virginia. Martin and James now too, Papa.

  She breathed in deep. Her head slowly shook with resignation at the reality of it all. She looked to her right and lethargically picked up an old copy of the New York Times and read the headlines:

  Colorado Women Granted Right to Vote

  Well, what do you think about that? She smiled and took a sip of coffee. Lizzy turned to the next page of the old newspaper and noticed a section towards the middle of the page:

  Women mourning over the loss of two of their finest pilgrims: Sojourner Truth and Lucy Stone. Both living for women’s rights. Both now dead. Is it the end of the movement?

  Lizzy’s mind wandered back to the woman’s name. Lucy Stone. She’d reminded herself that it was the speech that Lucy Stone was going to give about the rights of the Negroes that got her brother Willie all riled up so many years ago.

  Then she became passionate about the rights for women. Good for her.

  “We’ve come a long ways, dear brother, a long ways,” Lizzy muttered as she brought the steaming cup to her lips for another sip.

  She remembered that it was the plight of the Negro and the death of Willie that forged her towards her own fight and one that would soon introduce her to Martin.

  It had been over six months since Lizzy had laid her husband Martin and her son James into the ground. The shock of that horrific night still caused her nightmares.

  The police never found any suspects. Lizzy soon asked them not to bother. She wanted to move on. She still had two young daughters to raise and a son that didn’t even know what had happened. She just couldn’t tell him in a letter. Not just yet; it’s going to just break his heart.

  Lizzy never did understand the coldness she received from Katherine’s family. She and the girls traveled across town to their home and only received harsh words and painful looks as they did their best to render their deepest respects.

  After the funeral ended and Martin and James were laid in the ground, Lizzy had dropped the girls off at the house and took her buggy up to Central Park. She had tied the reins to the brake, just like Martin had shown her a hundred times. She had hopped down and walked. Lizzy didn’t remember how far she walked that day but it was far. Think I circled the entire park a half-dozen times or more.

  On this particular day, the soft breeze felt cool in the shade but the sun made her feel good. She thought of her previous trip up to Central Park and it brought a mischievous smile to her face. “Let’s go up there again,” she said out loud as she rose. “Gotta do something to get out of this damn rut of a sour mood, girl.”

  Lizzy was pleasantly surprised that she was able to hail a coach. She’d asked a neighbor to work on her own buggy’s back axle, so it wasn’t available, plus she felt like spoiling herself with a coach ride so out the door she went. “It’s your lucky day, girl. Maybe things are really going to start turning around for you.”

  The coachman dropped her off at the mid-point of the park. It was her usual spot, just past 80th Street. She liked to start her walk at the precise spot that she had started on the day of the funeral. The 5th Avenue side of the park was less crowded then the busy western side of 8th Avenue. She paid and thanked the driver and waited until the coach took off before crossing the street. Stopping at the gate, Lizzy touched the dark wrought iron fence. Stopped here last time too. Think I cried forever though. Surprised I even made it past the gate.

  This time she just paused at the gate and let the thoughts of that day permeate. She gazed at the ground, its large bricks covered in moss from the constant shade of an old oak tree. Acorns littered the path. Lizzy looked up at the giant oak. Its limbs were filled with bright green leaves. She was reminded that the last time she’d been there the ground was filled with fallen golden yellow and red leaves. The tree was half bare and the wind was much brisker than it was on this day. It was the beginning of autumn. A perfect time for a wedding, wasn’t it, James?

  Lizzy entered through the gate and turned to her right and up the pathway. She was pleased to find the park had few visitors. It’s usually a whole lot busier, but I’ll take it, surely will. She began to walk. She smiled at the plethora of wildflowers in full bloom and marveled at the sound of birds singing high in the trees. Her thoughts traveled back to her many walks along the banks of the Rappahannock. Still like the sounds of a river. The Hudson’s more like a giant lake than a swift river. Plus, can’t hear the water crashing over the rocks like it was down there. Her lips tightened when her thoughts moved on to the front porch in Fredericksburg and her beginning with Martin. She felt her chest tighten.

  “Don’t do it, girl. Just keep walking. Breathe!”

  She forced herself to follow their path of travel. Starting in Fredericksburg and then to Wheeling and then to Charleston and back to Wheeling. She remembered the night they decided to move to New York City and . . . what were the words?

  “To begin a new life away from politics.”

  Well, we did get away from politics, Martin. That we did. And I know you were happy.

  Lizzy followed along the path she’d walked on that infamous day. The grounds looked different but only because of the change of the seasons. She breathed in deep and smiled at the freshness of the air.

  Out of the rut of Washington was the best thing for him. He was so happy at the Stock Exchange. If he’d just have told them that it didn’t always go the way they’d hope. That there would be times of ups and downs. That the goals should always be for the long haul. If he’d only told them. . . .


  “It wasn’t his fault!” Her scream startled a family seated on a blanket nearby. The mother protectively picked up her young child as the husband sprang to his feet.

  “Sorry, sorry!” Lizzy let out a plea. She shook her head and breathed in a deep sigh. Keep it together, Lizzy. No reason to have the whole police department called on you, girl.

  She finally stopped at a bench. She sat back and took in a deep breath. For some odd reason, a smile appeared on her face. She turned her gaze towards a chipmunk scurrying up an old tree and her smile widened. She thought of the old story of her father and his pet chipmunk nestled under his porch. Oh, how James would have loved to hang out with you, Papa. He loved chipmunks, too.

  Lizzy let out a cry. “I guess you two are enjoying them together now, aren’t you?”

  “Are you all right, child?” an elderly woman asked as she passed by.

  Lizzy hadn’t realized how loud she was nor how much she’d been crying. “Yes, yes, I’m fine; sorry to disturb you.”

  People are going to think me looney if I can’t keep it together. Lizzy laughed at herself and slowly shook her head. She looked up to the bright blue sky through the filter of so many trees around her. The air was beginning to warm though it was still early spring. She leaned back on the bench. She began to feel herself at ease. The muscles in her face began to relax as she looked around. She saw children playing ball. Families picnicking on the grass. Dogs chasing dogs. Most of all, she saw everyone having fun. And living.

  “This is what you need to do, Lizzy. You need to start living again.”

  The thought of her saying that made her feel guilty. She did her best to fight through the guilt. She looked again at all the happy families playing around her. She listened to the laughter. She thought of her two girls, both dealing with their own grief. She thought of her oldest son and wondered if he’d received the news yet and how he was dealing with it.