Four of a Kind: A women's historical fiction (54 page)

Women do love to talk in depth about their deliveries but I don’t have much time before Little Cady awakens. Suffice it to say, Bess and I delivered Little Cady, while Robert paced the parlor. He did assist a little before that, when I insisted he read to me, to distract my mind from body. He appeared at the bedroom door, his eyes darting about as if he’d never been here before. “For God’s sake Robert, you were here when the baby went in!” Can you imagine me saying such a thing? I wasn’t myself –but maybe I shouldn’t be - he did my bidding! He scooted a chair over to the bed and began reading from his newspaper about President McKinley. I kept the sounds of pain to a bare minimum for him, sounding like a trapped mouse. The newspaper rustled and with his head hidden behind it, he said, “Politics are more than you can understand. Here’s one you will enjoy. It’s not one I’d bring to your attention under normal circumstances–”

“Just read!” I gasped.

“Very well,” he said in his maddeningly calm way. He read that history has shown that suffrage is not the way. That as far back as the Civil War, Susan B. Anthony and slave-born Sojourner Truth petitioned the government for emancipation of slaves with the belief that, once the war was over, women and slaves alike would be granted the same rights as white men. However, when the time came, Abraham Lincoln declared ‘This hour belongs to the Negro’. “Pity,” Robert said. “Abe was your hero and now we find he’s betrayed you too.”

Anger bore down hard and I sent him away. I had work to do.

Dr. Hughes returned in enough time to save my life and send Robert the bill – as Robert described it. I was bleeding profusely – as the doctor described it.

Oh! Here comes Aimee in a beautiful fur shawl and matching hand muff – looks like another apology from her husband.

April 6
^th
, 1911: Aimee told me yesterday that when she heard me shouting out my window during the labor pains, she at once ran to fetch Phyllis. She brought her here with her midwife skills and basket of teas and tonics only to be turned away by Robert, who told them that no more than a
real
doctor was permitted in his home. I had no idea he was so protective! I will send a letter to Phyllis to explain this. How I would love to see her – not since Cady’s funeral have we spoken. In my letter I will tell her my marvelous idea. It came to me during the night while pacing with Little Cady. My idea is this: We need a place to run to in the storm of a husband’s drunkenness. And we could use the Pickering manor. Phyllis told Aimee and Aimee told me that Thomas no longer lived in the manor and was looking for another use for it. We could call it the Lighthouse.

Little Cady is crying.

April 15
^th
, 1911: Phyllis loved my idea so much, she answered my letter in person. “Do this,” she said and she gently stroked the baby’s nose from the bridge down to the nostrils as I breast-fed her. “Do this several times while nursing to clear the mucous.” I hope it works and that Little Cady will begin breathing easier and sleeping more.

He paces with Little Cady during the night as much as I do. His mother hadn’t allowed him to hold our first four infants. As I watched him pace last night I had an amazing revelation – Robert was growing up. Had he struggled these last two years without his mother telling him what to do? Does a mother have that sort of power? It’s true I tell my children when to eat, sleep, and what to wear – I could also tell Bess where to go and what to believe in! She’s such an obedient child. I could have Bess pick up where I left off.
And Robert would never be the wiser for it. He’d pay no attention to the teachings of a mother to her daughter. And aren’t I only doing what Preacher Paul preached - about God’s hierarchy and the natural order of man?

He handed Little Cady over to me so very carefully while saying, “She’s a cute little thing. Were the others this perfect?” Actually she’s quite frail but I dare not bring that home to him. Instead I unbuttoned my gown and brought her to my breast. She hungrily moved her head back and forth until her mouth found her connection. Ah, that sweet tugging – what did Phyllis call it? Yes,
stimulating,
that’s it. Never did I feel so close to my babies as I did in breastfeeding them. To be able to give nourishment like no man ever can. For the first time, I feel sorry for Robert.

“You look happy now,” he said. “I prayed that another child would bring you back … your smile. Well, to be quite honest, I thought I was losing you. First to another man.”

Dear Diary, I thought I would faint! With my heart in my throat, I glanced over to him. He was inspecting his hands, rubbing hard at the permanent shoe dye stain in his cuticles.

“But then you explained that he was Cady’s husband, Thomas, and he was simply giving you a ride home in his blasted motor carriage.

“And then I thought I’d lost you to those high and mighty women and their damned cause. I had to bring you down to where you belong – with me. I did things I’m not proud of.” He cleared his throat – the only thing customary in this dialogue, I assure you.

“Then I almost lost you to death and I would be partially to blame, for it is my child that would’ve killed you. Only then did I realize.” He paused and finally met my astonished eyes. “I love you. There. It’s said. That might be the first time I’ve said it but.” He slapped his hands on his knees and looked around helplessly, finding himself in a realm he wasn’t accustomed to.

“Paint the rooms!” he suddenly announced with a proud smile. “Paint all the damn rooms you want!”

What is Family?

M
ary Sue had stayed at Mama’s for four days after my wedding. On the fourth evening she walked home smelling of lavender. Handing me a sachet she had made -
Thomas and Bess
cross-stitched with our wedding date on one side - she smiled shyly. Her expression revealed no criticism of me. This was short-lived.

She took papers from my hand and pulled me to the front parlor as if someone important were there waiting to see me. No one was there; the house was quiet with Lizzie on an errand and Thomas at the office. Mary Sue pushed me down onto the sofa.

“You have to sit for what I’m about to tell you,” she said. Her expression had changed - her eyes wide, her mouth tightly turned down.

I dared not let my mind guess so I folded my hands in my lap and waited.

“I just came back from your mommy’s house,” she said, sitting beside me and patting my arm. “I stayed longer to help her wash out the bedding. With Pearl gone so much of the time, and you here doing Lord-knows-what, your mommy just can’t do all that lifting on her own.”

I knew in my bones this had to be bad news.

“Last night your mommy asked me to sit with your daddy while she went next door to visit. He was in a state for shore. Like my daddy says, nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”

She spoke so slowly I prayed silently to keep from screaming at her.

“I knowed what was wrong right away. I told him he didn’t need to worry about you marrying again. You love Thomas a lot more than you loved my daddy, I told him. ‘Course I told him it wasn’t right you leaving my daddy after just one night, like we had cooties. But you couldn’t help yourself. You thinkin’ my daddy loved Miz Ruby more than you just ain’t true, so I told him don’t go worrying about that either. Daddy loved
my
mommy the best. Your daddy kept asking questions and I kept telling him not to worry. But. Well. You know your daddy’s been real sick and he took a turn for the worse last night. Your mommy woke up this morning with him cold as stone beside her. Sometime in the night he drew his last breath.”

I absorbed her meaning, feeling each line like a dagger, gawking at this impassive child. I wanted to kill the messenger. No, I wanted to kill the murderer! “What are you saying, Mary Sue? That my father
died
?”

She nodded gravely. “He just couldn’t go on anymore,” she said in a monotone, her eyes dazed. “Your wedding took what little he had left in him. He didn’t want to eat anymore, talked out of his head like he was still working in his shoe store and your mommy was a customer. He—”

Rage took me to my feet. I grabbed her collar and jerked her to her feet. “Do you realize what you’ve done?” I shook her. “Do you? You vindictive crazy bitch!” I shoved hard and she fell back down onto the sofa.

She sat where she fell, limp as a rag doll. “Don’t blame me for your sins,” she said in that same monotone. “You think you can treat—”

I slapped her mouth shut. “Shut up you fool!”

Papa is dead, oh my God, he’s dead. Mama! Poor Mama! I have to go to her!

“Straighten up!” I shouted. She obeyed, holding her cheek, her expression slowly changing to fear, as if she were coming up out of a bad dream.

“Mary Sue, do you know how to use a telephone? Do you? Answer me!”

She had the audacity to scowl. “Yes. I’m not stupid!” This I was beginning to see.

“Then ask the operator to connect you to Mr. Pickering at the Annan Newspaper. He’s scheduled for an important interview and can’t leave now. I’ll run home, but just tell him what happened and to drive there as fast as he can. Can you do that? Can you?”

Her shoulders lifted as the bearer of such important news to Thomas. Her mouth relaxed into a martyred smile and she nodded. “Don’t you worry. I’ll let Thomas know.”

I rushed toward the front door.

“And Lizzie, too!” she called out.

A block or so away, I waved down a taxi and finally reached my childhood home. The house already looked different. The threatening rain clouds fitted the occasion and the worn-out three-story wood and fish-scale siding had a doomed grayness surrounding it. Its second story window blinds were pulled down like eyes closed in death, the grief of another life lost here prevalent. It was like facing brother Jonathan’s death all over again. Gloom settled around my heart and slowed my steps. I didn’t want to walk into this grief I knew permeated these walls, grief which would bring tears of loss and worse, guilt. Damn that Mary Sue to hell! Already I wished I had been a better daughter to him as I took the steps to the verandah.

“Bess, he’s gone.”

I turned to see Mama in her rocking chair, partially hidden in the shadows. I rushed to her side and hugged her, relieved I wouldn’t have to go into the darkness of the house just yet. “I know, Mama. Mary Sue just told me.” If Mama only had a telephone I would’ve known sooner.

“No, I mean he’s gone. The undertaker just left with him … his body. They’ll do whatever it is they do to a body, and then will bring him back here. Those were his wishes; to have his funeral in the parlor, just as we’d done for his mother. He’ll be buried beside her and his father, as his mother had planned. Everything in this
house seemed to go as his mother planned. Sometimes I’m not sure if I ever got the reins.” She continued to steadily rock and gaze ahead of her as if her rocker was taking her for a ride through the past. “Look at that poplar tree there. It used to be so small I could see through its branches when I used to bring Little Cady out here and rock. Pearl believes Little Cady was born and died out here, but of course you know better than that. I feel like I can just think better out here. I can barely see around its trunk now, it’s grown so big. Everything’s grown, except me. Everybody’s leaving, except me.”

She paused in her rocking and turned her gaze down the street as if her ride took her to a scene to reckon with.

“At one time I wanted to go; when I saw him riding down my street right there, sitting tall on his horse, knowing he was looking only for me, I wanted to go with him. I dreamt about it but I couldn’t get to the other side. There was no way to cross that river.”

Her rocking resumed and she faced the tree again.

“My journey remained on this side of the river, to raise my five children, to see them move out into the world, to lose two to death. Little Jonathon; how I miss him and his arguments with his big brother Victor. Robert tolerated his two boys, but his girls, well, they seemed to have minds of their own he couldn’t understand. But he tried in his own way. A day or so after your wedding, he said, “Ruby, I believe Bess has grown up to be a good woman.” He gave Pearl his blessing for her marriage to David, too, and for the first time said he was proud of her. She was respectful enough to pretend she needed his permission.

“But I think you and Pearl were good women before you found a man to marry you. I taught you both to have your own lives, your own thoughts, and I never apologized to Robert for that, even if Pearl did get a little wild. She’ll be fine. She and Victor have gone with the undertaker. Victor and your papa had money put aside for this, he said. I don’t know how much or what the plan was. I’m told not to worry, they’ll handle it. And so now I must see Robert go and this, too, is out of my hands.”

I’d never heard Mama talk so, her eyes dreamlike and misty, but not teary. It wasn’t only the December wind that chilled me. Mama felt it, too, and pulled her old black shawl tighter around her.

“Were you in love with him?” I asked.

“With all my heart.”

She wasn’t looking ahead any more, but down the street. I almost expected to see a man on a horse there.