The Kitchen House Part 27

Next day Lucy says, "Belle, you know you not actin' like yourself. Somethin' wrong? You hear somethin' more 'bout Jamie?"

"No," I say, "I don't hear nothing."

She looks at me hard, but she stays quiet.

AFEW WEEKS GO BY, and I keep working, but I'm real tired. All I want to do is sleep. Papa comes with the news that Lavinia's baby is doing fine, got hair like fire, just like her mama. He tells me that Jamie's doing real good but Marshall still don't want to let him go. and I keep working, but I'm real tired. All I want to do is sleep. Papa comes with the news that Lavinia's baby is doing fine, got hair like fire, just like her mama. He tells me that Jamie's doing real good but Marshall still don't want to let him go.

That night any fight I got left goes right out of me.

Ben and Lucy tell Will Stephens that I stop eating, so he comes down to ask me if I'm sick.

"I'm fine," I say, "I'm feeling tired, that's all." He's wanting to get the doctor, but I say, "Thank you. I'll feel better soon."

One cold night, Lucy starts to have the baby. Ben comes running for me, banging on the door. "Lucy wantin' you! Lucy wantin' you!" He's yelling so loud, I know he's scared. I run. She's in trouble, all right. Ben gets a pa.s.s and rides out for the doctor, leaving me alone with Lucy.

I try to remember what Mama tells me. "Lucy," I say, "this gonna hurt." Then I get to work. That baby's head needs some help coming out, so Lucy pushes and I pull, and when we finally get him out, I don't know who's more tired, Lucy or me. But when we see the baby, we start to laugh. That boy looks just like Ben. How a fat little baby looks like a big old man, we don't know, but he do.

"You get him out, you got to take care a him," Lucy says. "What you gonna call him?"

"How about George?" I say. "Like Papa."

"George?" she says. "That a name for a growed man."

"Well," I say, "look at this boy. He's almost as big as Papa."

We start to laugh again, till the last of her pains clean the rest of her out.

When Ben comes with the doctor, Lucy's sleeping, and I'm sitting by the fire, holding George. I don't know how it happens, but somehow, this child feels like he's my own.

Food is looking good, and I'm starting to eat again. I'm thinking that I got to stay around, make sure somebody takes care of this sweet boy.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Lavinia

COME AND OPEN THEM! C COME and open them!" Sukey met me at the door and pulled me in, dancing with excitement. While I had been down at the kitchen house, overhearing the conversation between Marshall and Beattie, parcels and a letter had arrived from Meg. and open them!" Sukey met me at the door and pulled me in, dancing with excitement. While I had been down at the kitchen house, overhearing the conversation between Marshall and Beattie, parcels and a letter had arrived from Meg.

Sukey led me to my room, pressed me onto a chair, and placed the packages in my lap. She begged me to open them before I read the letter. To satisfy her, I unwrapped the first. It was a large picture book of trees.

"What does it say?" Sukey asked. She lightly traced the copper-plated ill.u.s.tration with her fingertips and repeated after me, "Quercus, Quercus," in her eagerness to learn.

Sukey then opened the larger package, and amid excited exclamations, she pulled from it a vasculum. The tin box was painted green and adorned with my initials in gold leaf. I remembered how Meg, with such pride, had shown me her own.

Her gifts were always generous, but Meg's correspondence that day was my salvation. She began by referencing my letters of last autumn in which I had described the sewing parties held under our oak. She wrote how this homey picture gave her and her mother much discussion over the past winter season. Now they wondered if they might visit this fall to be part of that very scene. My heart leaped at her request. Meg was as committed to her studies as ever, and she had become particularly interested in oak trees. Did we have a variety in our area? she wondered. Would I collect some leaves and bark, catalog my finds, and hold them for her visit? Then she ended the letter with another question: Was I as happy as she envisioned? her visit? Then she ended the letter with another question: Was I as happy as she envisioned?

I set her letter aside. I gazed over at Sukey studying the book, and then at Elly asleep in her cradle. But my thoughts did not settle on them. I could not remove the image of Marshall watching Beattie as she opened her treasure, and I heard over and over her words of pleasure. I longed to speak to someone of my outrage, my sorrow, and my confusion. Dared I write to Meg? Might I confide in her? But even as I asked myself these questions, I knew that I would not. How could I tell her of this evil twist in my marriage?

When Jamie came to the door, Sukey glanced up. She held her finger to her mouth and pointed to Elly, who lay fast asleep. Jamie nodded his understanding and tiptoed over to Sukey to have a look at the book she held. He had grown little this past year and was small for a seven-year-old. Miss Martha insisted we allow his sandy curls to grow to shoulder length, and but for his bad eye, he was a pretty child. He was exceptionally precocious, and perhaps because of it, there was something disconcerting about the boy. He had already learned to use his disability to his advantage. When he was particularly determined, he fixed his eyes on you. One could not ignore the unseeing white eye, while the blue intensity of the other bore through.

This day he looked at me over Sukey's head, then came to slip his hand in mine. "Are you sad, Miss Abby?" he asked, using the name the children had given me.

I cupped his serious small face and kissed it twice. His presence reminded me again of Belle, and in that instant I decided where I would turn. Why hadn't I thought of this sooner?

Fully aware that Marshall would never give me permission to see Belle, I began to plot my visit.

"IWANT TO LEARN TO ride," I told Marshall the next day at dinner. "And it would please me a great deal if Sukey could be my companion." I gave no hint of my unhappiness, instead acting light ride," I told Marshall the next day at dinner. "And it would please me a great deal if Sukey could be my companion." I gave no hint of my unhappiness, instead acting light and gay. I told him of Meg's letter and, presenting her latest gifts, informed him of her request that I gather certain leaf species. I needed a horse, I explained, to travel out a bit. Did he not think this a good pastime for me? and gay. I told him of Meg's letter and, presenting her latest gifts, informed him of her request that I gather certain leaf species. I needed a horse, I explained, to travel out a bit. Did he not think this a good pastime for me?

Yes, Marshall agreed, this was excellent diversion-provided, of course, that I use caution. George, he said, had taught Miss Martha to ride, and he would have George teach me to ride as well. There was a fine sidesaddle in the stables that his father had provided for his mother; would that suit me? He would choose the horse, an older, quiet one, one that would not get away from me. Happily, he was also in agreement that Sukey should act as my attendant.

I thanked him for his generosity, then read aloud Meg's letter. Though Marshall did not voice an opinion, I noted that he was not entirely pleased when I read to him of Meg and her family's upcoming visit.

SUKEY DID NOT NEED A riding lesson. She approached her pony confidently, took hold of his reins, patted his nose, and led him to the mounting block. There, she slid easily onto his back. She clicked her tongue and walked her small horse around me while she and Papa George laughed at my surprise. Sukey explained that Papa had taught her to ride when she was "just a lil chil'." riding lesson. She approached her pony confidently, took hold of his reins, patted his nose, and led him to the mounting block. There, she slid easily onto his back. She clicked her tongue and walked her small horse around me while she and Papa George laughed at my surprise. Sukey explained that Papa had taught her to ride when she was "just a lil chil'."

"Oh," I said to Sukey, winking at Papa, "I suppose that now, at the age of eleven, you consider yourself a grown woman?"

"Well," she said soberly, "I'm not as old as you!"

At that, Papa laughed, and I gently poked his arm in reprimand.

"Miss Abby, how old are you?" Sukey asked.

Papa pointed to the hills in the distance. "You see those hills, Sukey gal?"

"I do, Papa," she said.

"Why, our Miss Abinia, she old as those hills." He laughed.

I made a face at Papa. "I'll be twenty years old this May," I told Sukey.

"Ohhh." Sukey was impressed, and both Papa and I laughed at her reaction.

"I wonder if Miss Abinia too old to learn to ride," Papa teased, leading a small horse from the barn. "This Barney," he said to me.

Barney was a small bay gelding, just the right size for me. I pulled back when he nudged me with his soft nose, but I relaxed when Papa George explained that the horse was only seeking a treat. Tentatively, I stroked Barney's head and remarked on the white blaze that was almost covered by his long dark forelock. When the horse stomped his foot and shook his long mane, Papa explained that he was eager to begin our lesson. Once we did so, Barney proved a patient horse, and I was smitten with him before my first lesson was complete.

Marshall was pleased by my enthusiasm for riding. He insisted that I order for myself the latest riding clothes, and I agreed, requesting that Sukey be outfitted as well. To my surprise, Marshall did not object.

Measurements for our riding habits were sent off, and when the packages arrived from Williamsburg, Sukey was almost overcome with excitement. She had chosen a fine blue petticoat and a matching jacket trimmed with a black velvet collar. The jacket had double rows of gilt b.u.t.tons, and Mama Mae, f.a.n.n.y, and I watched them sparkle when she twirled. She wore a black hat with a gold chain around the brim, topped with a high blue feather set to the front. Her riding habit was complete after she tied the half boots of black leather and pulled on leather gloves.

My new clothes were very similar in fas.h.i.+on, although they were green. I had a second plume added to my hat, and around my neck, I tied a white silk cravat. I must say, the two of us did look smart our first morning in mid-May when Papa gave us permission to ride out alone together.

From that day forward, with Elly safely in f.a.n.n.y's care, we went out almost every day. We each sported a vasculum; I had ordered one for Sukey, justifying it as necessary equipment for our botanical excursions. Inside hers, Sukey proudly tucked a leather-bound sketchbook. She was becoming an accomplished artist, able to draw a true likeness of people, and I hoped she might have the same success while sketching trees and capturing their specific properties for Meg's use. On our return from these excursions, we brought our bounty back to the library, researched and cataloged the specimens, and added them to our growing collection. same success while sketching trees and capturing their specific properties for Meg's use. On our return from these excursions, we brought our bounty back to the library, researched and cataloged the specimens, and added them to our growing collection.

As spring unfolded, I began to have a renewed interest in life. I loved nothing more than to ride out, but I never lost sight of my true goal. I waited patiently for the right opportunity when I might safely visit Belle. Finally, at the end of May, Marshall left the farm for a day. He was off to a town some two hours away, and when I learned that he planned to take the wagon, I knew he would not be back before nightfall.

Papa alone knew of my plan. Sukey had the sniffles, and I used this as an excuse for her not to ride with me that day. Mama met me in the blue room. It was early, before breakfast, and Jamie was still asleep. He did not wake when I clipped a lock of his hair. Out in the hallway, Mama watched as I curled it inside a locket and dropped that into my jacket pocket. She peered at me. "Where you goin', chil'?"

I would not lie to her, yet I would not involve her. I hugged her. "I'm going riding, Mama," I said.

"Masta Marshall say you not go out on that horse by yourself," she scolded.

"Mama," I said, "I'm going."

"You be careful, chil'," Mama whispered, "stay in those trees."

Papa was waiting. I was frustrated when I saw he had saddled Barney. "Oh, Papa," I said, "I need a faster horse."

"This horse know you. He get you there, and he get you back, and you stay in one piece," Papa said, and I knew there was no use arguing. "You follow that stream, like I say. Stay in the trees and take it slow. Ben watchin' for you." He handed me a riding crop. "Use this if you needs to," he said, "and the Lawd ride with you."

I set off at a trot, intoxicated by my freedom. My little horse moved quickly, and his surefootedness enabled me to look around as I rode. Nature was at its most lush, and for the first time in a long while, I felt hopeful.

I had been riding for what seemed a short time when, up ahead, I heard the sound of a horse and rider. My heart thudded until a voice called out, "It jus' me, Abinia," and I recognized Ben's voice.

"Ben!" I called, and we laughed aloud as we rode toward each other. Our horses danced as we greeted, and we soon broke through the trees into a large clearing. To the front of it, I scarcely noted the large house still under construction. Neither did I give attention to the large finished barn standing farther down in the clearing. What had my interest was the small clapboard kitchen house and the familiar figure standing next to it.

As Ben led the way, Belle ran toward us. Our reunion was bittersweet, for I did not have her son. Instead, I presented a drawing, a close likeness of Jamie, which Sukey had done recently. Then I gave Belle my gold locket that held her son's hair, and I told her how I had cut it but an hour previous. I put my arms around her when she fingered this treasure, and as she cried, I felt her suffering. Only later, when we talked, after no detail of Jamie had been left unanswered, did I ask her about herself.

She missed all of us so, she said.

Was Lucy, Ben's wife, not a favorable companion? I asked.

Belle said yes, but though they were close, Lucy was not Mama.

"And Ben?" I asked. "Do you see much of Ben?"

Curiously, she evaded the answer.

"Does Will Stephens have help other than Ben?" I asked, trying to remember if I had seen quarters.

"Yes," she said, "he got four new men. He's wanting a big farm, and the way he works, he's gonna have it."

"Is he good to you?" I asked.

"He's a good man, but I'm his property."

I did not know how to respond, acutely aware that through my husband, I owned people as well. Belle continued, "Will brings me here, but I'm not a free woman."

I took a deep breath. "Belle, I thought you loved Will. I... I thought he was Jamie's father."

"Ben told me what you was thinking."

I was embarra.s.sed and looked at the floor.

"Will always helped me, Lavinia, nothing more. He never came at me like that."

Then I asked for the truth about Jamie. Belle hesitated. "Marshall's his daddy. That all I'm gonna say. You're married to the man now, so you got to let this go."

"But now he's after Beattie!" There! It was said. What I had come here to confide. I burst into tears. Belle reached for me and let me cry, but once released, my tears wouldn't stop. When I could speak, I told her about the misery of my marriage, of Marshall's drinking and his deceit, and of my resentment toward Beattie. When Belle spoke on Beattie's behalf, she angered me.

"So you think she does not encourage him, that she does not enjoy his gifts?" I asked.

Belle was firm with me. Did I forget that Beattie had no choice? Marshall owned her.

"But he owns me as well!" I said.

"Yes, but you picked that," she said. "Beattie don't get to pick nothing except to figure out how she's best gonna handle this." I stared ahead, not meeting her eyes, fighting the truth. Belle spoke softly. "You know what I'm thinking, Lavinia? I'm thinking that you're mad with Beattie 'cause you can't get mad with Marshall." She paused and took a deep breath. "I know this 'cause I got something here that's almost the same thing."

I looked at her.

"When you was away in Williamsburg, Ben and me got together. I'm not saying it's wrong or right, it's just the way it happens. For a long time, I don't like Lucy. She's this, she's that, and I'm saying all this to myself so I don't have to see that she's hurting, too. Turns out she's a better woman than me. She set aside her bad feelings when they took my Jamie."

I was shocked. I had always guessed that Ben and Belle cared for each other, but that they acted on it ... "Do you still ..." I stopped, astonished that I should ask such a personal question.

"Yes," Belle answered frankly. "Lucy and me, we work it out. She loves Ben, same as me. She gives him three boys. They're all good boys, too." loves Ben, same as me. She gives him three boys. They're all good boys, too."

"But what about-" Again I hesitated, and again Belle guessed at what I referenced.

"First, Ida gives me something so I don't get caught with no baby. Then, after Jamie's gone and I'm wanting a baby of Ben's, nothing happens. Now, Lucy's little George, he's like my own. Most nights he sleeps here." She nodded at a wooden cradle in the corner where, draped over the side, was a small patchwork quilt made of red and blue squares. We talked further as Belle set out some food. "Come, child," she said, "come, eat something."

I was surprised at my enormous appet.i.te until I realized that I felt a burden had been lifted: Belle's strange circ.u.mstances somehow made me feel less alone in mine. We were finis.h.i.+ng when Ben came to the door to remind me that it was soon time to leave. The horses were ready, and he would travel part of the way back with me. He left to give us a few minutes alone, and soon after, there was another short rap on the door. Thinking it was Ben, Belle called for him to enter. When the door opened, Will Stephens stood framed in the sunlight. I had not spoken to him since his visit to Williamsburg, and my pounding heart told me that my feelings toward him had only grown. Belle invited him in, and he removed his hat as he strode toward me. Fl.u.s.tered by his smile, I forced myself to meet his eyes.

"Miss Lavinia," he said, nodding at me, "we meet again."

"Mr. Stephens," I answered, returning his nod.

"You are well?" he asked.

I reached for Belle's hand. "Yes, I am."

"I understand you are leaving. Must you go so soon?" he said.

To my embarra.s.sment, I burst into tears and quickly turned my face.

"I'll bring her out soon as she's ready," Belle said to Will. After he left, she used a handkerchief to dry my eyes.

"I can't go back!" I cried, clinging to her. "I can't bear to go back to him."

"You know you got to go," she said. "Elly's needing you. And you got to watch out for Jamie."