The Kitchen House Part 26

I nod. When we go back in, Papa's sitting there, not looking me in the face.

"I'm all right now, Papa," I say. "I get so scared about my boy."

"Your Jamie doin' fine, Belle."

"I don't want him up at the big house, Papa. What if Miss Martha don't ever let him go? What if Marshall-?" I see Papa's face go tight. "What, Papa?" I say. "What else you come to say?"

"It Beattie," he says.

"What?" I ask.

"Marshall usin' Beattie," he says. Just like that, Papa drops his own head and starts to cry. I never, never before, see Papa cry. Ben, me, Lucy, we all look at the other, waiting for somebody to say something. Ben stands up and starts to walk back and forth. I go to Papa and put my arm 'round him. He takes out the rag that Mama makes him carry and blows his nose. "There nothin' I can do for my own girl," he says.

"'Course not, Papa," I say.

"When this start to happen?" Ben ask. He don't sound like his-self.

"A while now," Papa says. "'Round the time Abinia tell him she havin' a baby. First it go real hard on Beattie, but she say things eased up. You know that girl, she don't complain 'bout nothin'. She even tellin' Mama and me that she gonna make this work for everybody. Marshall gets with her almost every night, and he talkin' to her. Beattie say, least this way she find out what happenin' on the place."

"Maybe he'll leave her alone when Lavinia has her baby?" I say.

n.o.body says nothing to that.

Next day I talk to Will Stephens, tell him Jamie's up in the big house. Will says that he'll go back to court and try again to get Jamie back here with me. "You just hold on, Belle," he says.

"Will."

"Yes?"

"There's something else for you to know," I say.

"What is it?"

"Ben was talking with Lavinia at f.a.n.n.y's wedding. He finds out that she's thinking all along that you're the daddy of Jamie."

"What!"

"All along, Lavinia never knows that Marshall's the one. I never did tell her about that night when Marshall got me. When she's living in Williamsburg, Marshall tells her that you're the daddy."

"Good G.o.d!"

"Mama says in some ways, Lavinia thinks like a child. She don't always get what's going on. She comes back here, wanting everything to be the same. It's like she don't know that when she marries Marshall, she's gonna take on his world. Mama's trying to help her see it right, but like Mama say, sometimes we got to live it out before we learn."

I'm talking away, but when I look at Will Stephens, he looks like he don't hear a word I'm saying. When he goes, I stand at the door. I watch him walk real slow up to his new house and think how big it looks for one man living there all by hisself.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Lavinia

I STAYED IN MY BED FOR STAYED IN MY BED FOR two days, feverish and without appet.i.te. Marshall came with questions of concern, and when he reached for my hand, I pulled it away, sick with disgust. Mama nursed me silently, but on the third morning, after I refused yet another breakfast, she secured my bedroom door before she pulled a chair to my bedside. two days, feverish and without appet.i.te. Marshall came with questions of concern, and when he reached for my hand, I pulled it away, sick with disgust. Mama nursed me silently, but on the third morning, after I refused yet another breakfast, she secured my bedroom door before she pulled a chair to my bedside.

"Ida say you know some things," Mama said, positioning herself to face me.

I turned my head away.

"Ida say ..." She spoke quietly. "Ida say you see Marshall go with Beattie."

I heard the struggle in her voice, and still I faced the wall.

"Ida say you know 'bout Jamie?" she whispered.

I swung my head to look at her. "Ida's saying a lot," I snapped.

Mama's head dropped.

"I'm sorry, Mama."

"Times, this life not easy, Abinia," Mama said.

"But how ... When was he ... with Belle?"

Mama shushed me and looked toward the door. "We don't talk about this no more. It happen, now you got to forget about it. He find out you know 'bout this, he don't stop until he find out who talkin' to you, and then there no tellin' what he do."

"But Beattie, Mama! How could Beattie go with-?"

"You think this what Beattie want?" Mama whispered. "You think she want get with him?"

"I saw them at the kitchen house!" I said. "She didn't even make an attempt to refuse him."

"Abinia! You lookin' through your eyes, you not even tryin' to look through Beattie's. You know that girl don't have the right to say no! After Masta Marshall leave for the day, I bring Beattie to you. You see for yourself what happen when that girl say no." Mama's chin trembled as she fought tears. She rose and went to look out the tall window.

I was quiet for a long while before I dared to speak. "I'm sorry, Mama," I said, "you don't have to bring her. I know you're right."

"This a hard thing," Mama said, wiping tears from her face. "This a hard thing."

I looked out the window past Mama and saw that it had begun to snow. I looked at the fire blazing in the fireplace and thought of Papa George chopping wood behind the kitchen house. Now I understood what had driven him that day.

"Mama," I whispered. "Is there something I can do?"

Mama came back to sit in the chair beside me. She blew her nose before she took my hand. "There times all we can do is pray to the Lawd," she said. "We say, 'Lawd, we don't know, but we sure do need some help.'" She rested her hand on my large stomach. "And we don't forget to say thanks for the blessin's, Lawd." Mama spoke to me tenderly again. "Come, chil', it time for you to eat, then get up and move. All this fussin' not good for the baby."

A MONTH LATER, AT THE MONTH LATER, AT THE end of January, Mama was there with f.a.n.n.y to deliver my daughter, Eleanor. end of January, Mama was there with f.a.n.n.y to deliver my daughter, Eleanor.

We called her Elly from the start, and everyone loved her. Marshall expressed great delight that he was the father of our infant girl, and in the heady joy of motherhood, I tried desperately to set aside my grievances with him.

Sukey would not leave Elly's side; during the night, she kept the cradle next to her bed. When I nursed Elly, Sukey sat alongside to watch that I positioned the baby's head correctly. Mama came often to hold Elly and to sing to her until she slept. And then there was f.a.n.n.y! One might have thought that Elly was her very own.

In every spare moment, f.a.n.n.y peeked in, requesting to hold her. Uncle Jacob, too, stopped by often on the pretext of tending the fire. Even Papa George came up to see the baby late one afternoon after Marshall had left the farm. Papa held her, and my heart soared when he said, "She look just like our lil Abinia." Finally, when Beattie had not yet come, I asked to see her. In every spare moment, f.a.n.n.y peeked in, requesting to hold her. Uncle Jacob, too, stopped by often on the pretext of tending the fire. Even Papa George came up to see the baby late one afternoon after Marshall had left the farm. Papa held her, and my heart soared when he said, "She look just like our lil Abinia." Finally, when Beattie had not yet come, I asked to see her.

I was nursing the baby when Mama brought her up. "Come in, Bea," I said, seeing her hesitate in the doorway, "come see her." Beattie refused to meet my eyes when I offered my baby for inspection. "Isn't she perfect?" I asked, full of new motherhood.

"She look just like you," Beattie said with a shy smile.

She was right. My daughter had the same elfin ears, the same oval face, and the same vibrant hair color. Everyone noted the likeness. And it seemed everyone considered it a triumph.

IN THE EARLY AUTUMN OF Elly's first year, we spent some time in the shade of the great oak tree. The scene was idyllic. Often in the late afternoon, Uncle Jacob set up our quilting frame and we brought out our chairs. f.a.n.n.y and I st.i.tched while Sukey sat on a blanket with Elly. If Mama had time, she joined us, though Beattie always begged off, saying that she had work to do in the kitchen. Elly's first year, we spent some time in the shade of the great oak tree. The scene was idyllic. Often in the late afternoon, Uncle Jacob set up our quilting frame and we brought out our chairs. f.a.n.n.y and I st.i.tched while Sukey sat on a blanket with Elly. If Mama had time, she joined us, though Beattie always begged off, saying that she had work to do in the kitchen.

Miss Martha was content to rest in her room with Jamie playing quietly at her side. Her doses of laudanum were at a minimum, and her condition had changed dramatically. Though she had limitations, she often appeared quite lucid, and we accepted it when she referred to Jamie as "my son." Jamie never mentioned Belle, and his attachment to Miss Martha was so strong that one wondered if he remembered his life before. I was content with this, though Mama Mae was not. She did not speak of her disapproval outright, but often I saw her watch the two of them interact, and her frown told me more than words might have.

Miss Martha's response to my baby was curious. A few days after I gave birth, I brought Elly to visit her grandmother. For the first time, I saw my mother-in-law accept a child into her arms and then release it, aware that the child was not her own. When I told her the baby's name, she repeated it a few times and did not forget it, though she continued to refer to me as Isabelle. then release it, aware that the child was not her own. When I told her the baby's name, she repeated it a few times and did not forget it, though she continued to refer to me as Isabelle.

ON THE WHOLE, MY TIME was consumed with caring for my newborn, but when I saw Marshall, he was drinking less and appeared more content than he had been since our arrival. He remained solicitous of me and continually asked if I had want or need of anything. I a.s.sumed it was the birth of Elly that had brought Marshall some peace, and for the sake of our child, I attempted to set aside the horrible truth of which I was now aware. But my success was short-lived. was consumed with caring for my newborn, but when I saw Marshall, he was drinking less and appeared more content than he had been since our arrival. He remained solicitous of me and continually asked if I had want or need of anything. I a.s.sumed it was the birth of Elly that had brought Marshall some peace, and for the sake of our child, I attempted to set aside the horrible truth of which I was now aware. But my success was short-lived.

In the months after Elly's birth, though Marshall had not visited me at night, I had hoped that his relations.h.i.+p with Beattie had ended. However, in late fall, I was horror-struck when it became clear that Beattie was with child. She continued to serve our meals in the dining room with Uncle's a.s.sistance; daily, the situation grew more awkward. Marshall did not know that I was aware of their relations.h.i.+p; nor was he aware that I watched as his eyes followed her.

I grew more resentful with each pa.s.sing day. I did not want my husband to resume his marital rights, but I was horrified to think that his relations.h.i.+p with Beattie continued. There were moments in the dining room of intense strain, moments when I caught an approving look or a smile given to Beattie that felt like an insult to me. I felt unable to direct my anger toward Marshall, and in an effort to rid myself of it, I looked instead toward Beattie, a safer target.

I spoke to no one of this, and my unhappiness festered. My reasoning became diseased, and as my anger grew, so, too, did my resentments. I began to wonder why Marshall made the choice to stay with Beattie. I did not want him near me-in fact, the idea of our intimacy repulsed me-yet why would he chose her over me? What did I lack as a woman? Where had I failed? In spite of myself, in spite of knowing how their relations.h.i.+p had come about, I began to blame Beattie. I couldn't rid myself of the belief that Beattie had encouraged Marshall in this wrongdoing. I began to blame Beattie. I couldn't rid myself of the belief that Beattie had encouraged Marshall in this wrongdoing.

I dared not confront Marshall, so I struck out at Beattie. I often spoke sharply to her and did not seek for her the privileges I sought for the others of my family. I made unkind comments about her appearance while I watched Marshall attempt to show indifference. But it was his failure to do so that had me question a deeper possibility: Did he care for her? Did he love her?

Finally, I could stand it no longer and went to Mama. I used Beattie's growing size and her c.u.mbersome efforts to serve us as my complaint. To my great relief, Mama agreed and sent f.a.n.n.y to replace Beattie in the dining room. This, however, had its own repercussions.

f.a.n.n.y, while serving, of course overheard the dinner conversation. As was her nature, she found it impossible to maintain a uninterested stance, and when she heard something that did not sit well with her, she was quick to purse her lips or roll her eyes. Marshall frequently called her on this. "Do you have something to say?" he often asked, and I was always surprised at how forthcoming were f.a.n.n.y's comments. There were times when her opinions angered my husband and he would dismiss her from the room, but more likely, he would laugh heartily. I greeted those times with a mixture of relief and envy. Why, I wondered, couldn't I be more like f.a.n.n.y-more unafraid?

During this period, I began a correspondence with Meg in Williamsburg. I sought to renew my interest in botany, and I wrote of it to Meg, with apologies for my lack of earlier communication. She held no blame and said that she knew how busy I must be, caring for my daughter. She had not yet married, and her letters were quick to point out that she was not in a great hurry to do so. Along with her correspondence, Meg sent books, and I, in turn, gifted her with those I thought she might enjoy. I clung to my connection to Meg, though I told her nothing of the problems within my marriage.

About a month after f.a.n.n.y began to serve us in the dining room, Marshall and I received a letter from Will Stephens. In it, he offered a great deal of money for Jamie. He said that Belle, in her grief over the loss of her son, had become ill. Will feared for her life and asked for Marshall to exercise compa.s.sion in the matter. room, Marshall and I received a letter from Will Stephens. In it, he offered a great deal of money for Jamie. He said that Belle, in her grief over the loss of her son, had become ill. Will feared for her life and asked for Marshall to exercise compa.s.sion in the matter.

"Compa.s.sion for a wh.o.r.e!" Marshall tore up the letter.

Still too frightened to speak up for Belle, but feeling guilty for my failure, I decided to take other action. That night I wrote to her. In an attempt to give Belle relief, I told her that I watched over Jamie as I might my own son and that he was safe in my care. I told her, too, of my concern for her and her health. I asked her to be patient and concluded that one day soon, she would be reunited with her son.

I do not know how Rankin got hold of the letter. I had pa.s.sed it to f.a.n.n.y, and she had given it to her husband, Eddy. Marshall was furious when Rankin brought the letter to him, and at dinner the next day, my husband informed me that Eddy would be punished for my foolishness. f.a.n.n.y stood at the sideboard, shocked into silence.

"No, Marshall," I said. "Please, no. I alone am responsible."

"You work against me, you undermine me, someone must be held accountable for your disobedience," he said.

"Be angry with me, Marshall," I said. "I meant no harm."

"You correspond with a wh.o.r.e?" he said. "You write that her child is like your own. You sound as mad as my mother!"

Armed with the knowledge of Jamie's paternity, my anger rose. "I was at his birth," I said, "of course I care for him. Belle was like a mother to me."

"Belle!" He slammed the table with his fist. "My father's wh.o.r.e!"

I rose quickly, giving Uncle Jacob no time to a.s.sist with my chair. I rested my hands on the table to steady myself. "As Beattie is a wh.o.r.e to you?" I asked, my voice slow and deliberate, and I saw in his face his shock at my knowledge of his unholy union.

Behind me, f.a.n.n.y gasped. When Marshall reached for his winegla.s.s, I noted a tremor in his hand, and seeing his momentary weakness, I struck. "I trust that I can count on you not to punish Eddy for my indiscretion." weakness, I struck. "I trust that I can count on you not to punish Eddy for my indiscretion."

As I left, Marshall called after me, but I did not turn back.

IN THE MIDDLE OF J JANUARY, Beattie lost her child. I was not there for the birth, but f.a.n.n.y reported on the difficult labor. She told me that Ida and Mama had feared for Beattie's life. Inwardly, I was relieved that the baby died. Beattie lost her child. I was not there for the birth, but f.a.n.n.y reported on the difficult labor. She told me that Ida and Mama had feared for Beattie's life. Inwardly, I was relieved that the baby died.

A week later, we celebrated my darling Elly's first birthday. That day, when I held my precious child to me, I felt a wave of compa.s.sion for Beattie and was guilt-stricken that I had not sent word to her about her loss. I decided to go to the kitchen house to apologize and to see if she had need of anything.

It was late afternoon when I slipped out the back door. f.a.n.n.y was busy tending to Miss Martha, and Mama was cleaning in the library, so I left Elly in the care of Sukey. I knew Beattie was likely beginning the preparations for supper, so I planned only a short visit. As I made my way to the kitchen house, my thoughts of Bea were warm, and I felt certain that she and I could be friends once more. Surely Marshall was done with her. I would have walked directly through the open kitchen door had I not heard Beattie speaking to someone. "This so pretty," she said. "I never have somethin' like this before."

I froze in place when I heard Marshall's voice. "I thought you might like it," he said.

I willed myself to quietly back away. Turning, I saw Papa come around the chicken coop. He waved at me in greeting. My fierce desire to run to him for comfort was overruled by my feelings of shock, then shame. Did he know my husband was back in the kitchen house with Beattie? Did they blame me for not keeping my husband away from her and at my side? I turned my back on Papa and went up to the big house.

I wonder what depths of despair I might have reached had Meg's letter not been waiting.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Belle

WILL S STEPHENS GETS TWO MORE men and sends Lucy up from the fields. We work together good, cleaning the big house and putting food away, but Lucy's getting big with another baby, and seeing her like that makes me think of my own boy. Will Stephens does everything he can to get my Jamie back, but nothing works. When winter comes and I still don't have him, the life just goes out of me. Without my Jamie, I don't care about nothing no more. men and sends Lucy up from the fields. We work together good, cleaning the big house and putting food away, but Lucy's getting big with another baby, and seeing her like that makes me think of my own boy. Will Stephens does everything he can to get my Jamie back, but nothing works. When winter comes and I still don't have him, the life just goes out of me. Without my Jamie, I don't care about nothing no more.

When Ben's holding me one night, he says, "You sure quiet, and you gettin' skinny."

I don't say nothing, because there's nothing to say.

"Belle," he says, "is somethin' wrong?"

"No," I say.