The Stolen Marriage by Diane Chamberlain
Washington seemed like another planet to me. So far away. “Why there?” I asked.
“Gaston says they’ll be more accepted in Washington State. Interracial marriage is legal there. I hope he’s right. It’s a dangerous journey for them to make. Loretta will have to hide in the backseat if they’re someplace where they shouldn’t be seen together, which I suppose will be most everyplace.”
“Do you really think it’s okay for a colored person to marry a white person?” I asked. It was hard for me to imagine, and it bothered me that Henry seemed to think it was fine.
“Well, like Gaston says, it’s hard to control who you fall in love with,” he said. “You love somebody that deeply, you’re willing to risk everything to be with them.”
I wondered if he was thinking about us. How neither of us was in love, deeply or otherwise. Did that fact make him as sad as it made me?
34
I didn’t know what time Henry got in that night after being with Gaston. When I awakened in the morning, he was gone yet again but it was obvious that his bed had been slept in, and there were ten ten-dollar bills on my night table. I’d taken to staying in my robe well into the morning, but today I dressed quickly, looking forward to my shopping trip. I was about to go downstairs to breakfast when there was a knock on the bedroom door. I opened the door to find Hattie with one of Henry’s suits over her arm, most likely fresh from the cleaners.
“Can I hang this in the armoire?” she asked.
“Oh, I’ll do it, Hattie,” I said, reaching for the suit.
“You sure, Miss Tess?” She held it out of my reach. “Just as easy for me to hang it.”
“I’m happy to do it,” I told her with a smile. I’d never lost my discomfort over watching Hattie work while I did nothing. I might be sitting in the upstairs parlor reading while she ran the carpet sweeper around my feet. When I expressed my discomfort to Henry, he scoffed. “She’s not a slave, Tess,” he said. “She’s well compensated for her work.” I didn’t bother explaining to him that it had nothing to do with her being colored. Black, white, purple, it made no difference. I just didn’t like being waited on.
“Have you seen our mutual friend lately?” I asked her, referring, of course, to Reverend Sam.
She pressed a finger to her lips. “Miss Ruth don’t want me talkin’ to you so much,” she said in a near whisper. “She don’t think you understand how things is s’posed to be.”
“Oh,” I whispered back, feeling sad. I didn’t want to lose my relationship with Hattie. “I don’t want to cause you any trouble, Hattie,” I said. “I’m just grateful you introduced me to him.”
She gave a little nod, then left the room. I shut the door behind her and headed for the armoire with the suit. I turned the ornate key and opened the mirrored door carefully, respectful of its age and a fragility I might only have been imagining. I was still taken by that beautiful piece of furniture. The incredibly smooth finish of the exterior wood, the subtle scent of cedar when I opened the door, and that satin aquamarine lining. Even the floor of the armoire, which was about at the height of my knees, was lined with the satin. Looking down at that floor after hanging up the suit, I saw something—a piece of leather?—jutting up from between the floor and the wall of the armoire. Odd. It looked a bit like the tapered end of a belt. I reached for it, my fingers grasping it as I tried to pull it from the crevice between the wall and floor. I was surprised when the whole floor of the armoire came loose in my hand, and I realized the bit of leather was simply a tab used to pull up the false bottom. I lifted the satin-covered board completely out of the floor of the armoire and gasped when I saw what was below: money. The bottom of the armoire was two-thirds full of bills, all denominations, it seemed, banded together in stacks. How much was there? And why? I knew Henry did his banking at First National. He was hardly the type to sock money away beneath his mattress. I knelt down in front of the armoire and began to count the bundles. A little more than two thousand dollars. A fortune! What was it doing here? I fitted the false floor back in place, arranging the leather tab so it looked exactly as it had when I’d discovered it. I felt as though I’d snooped into Henry’s private world. I would say nothing to him about this discovery. At least not yet.
* * *
Downstairs, I was glad to find that Ruth had already left for one of her many meetings. I never enjoyed trying to make conversation with her over a meal. I joined Lucy at the table where she was reading the newspaper and she didn’t bother to look up at me as I took my seat. Hattie brought me a plate of eggs and grits and poured coffee into my cup, and I opened one of the sections of the paper next to my plate.
I looked across the table at Lucy, who seemed engrossed in whatever she was reading. I thought of asking her to join me on my shopping spree. How I missed Gina! We always had so much fun shopping together. If only I could have a similar relationship with my sister-in-law. Sitting there, eating together quietly, though not companionably, I felt intimidated about asking her to go with me. She had nearly finished her eggs and was sipping her coffee when I finally found the courage.
“I’m going shopping for clothes today,” I said. “Would you like to come with me? It’s so good to get someone else’s opinion on what to buy.”
She set down her cup and looked up from the paper. “No offense, Tess,” she said, “but I don’t really want to be seen with you in town.”
My cheeks burned. “Why do you dislike me so much?” I asked.
She leaned back from the table. “Let me count the ways,” she said. “First, you’re a slut.”
I knew I should stop the conversation right there, but maybe it would be good to finally get it all out in the open. “I’m not a slut,” I said. “Henry is the only man I’ve ever slept with and it was only that once and I deeply regret it. Not that it’s any of your business.”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you really expect me to believe that? That he was the only man you ever slept with? And how well could you have possibly known him? He didn’t go to Washington all that often. He had to have been a near stranger to you. It’s appalling. Did he pay you?”
“Of course not,” I snapped.
“And then you get pregnant and come here expecting him to marry you and—”
“I didn’t expect him to marry me,” I said. “I just wanted help. Financial help, so I could raise this child on my own.”
She stared at me. “Everybody knew … Everybody! That he and Violet would get married. That house he’s building? Violet practically designed it. They worked on it together with an architect. So I’m sorry that you, on your so-called first-time-sleeping-with-a-man got pregnant, but you should have found some other way to deal with it than to come here and ruin our lives.”
“I don’t think he was in love with her.”
“Well, do you think he’d tell you that?”
“I didn’t hold a gun to his head and tell him he needed to marry me,” I said, my anger starting to boil. “He asked me of his own free will.”
“Because he’s a good man. Of course that’s what he did.” She lifted her coffee cup to her lips again, but set it down without taking a sip. “Everyone here hates you,” she said bluntly. “They love Violet. And really,” she said, shaking her head, “you don’t know the half of it.”
“The half of what?”
She looked at her empty plate and let out a great sigh. “Nothing,” she said.
“What more is there, Lucy?” I asked. What more could there possibly be?
When she looked up at me, there were tears in her eyes. “Do you love him?” she asked.
I steadied myself, getting my anger in check. She was hurting, for a reason I didn’t understand. “Not yet,” I said. “But I hope in time…”
“This wasn’t the plan,” she said. “You weren’t part of the plan.”
“What are you talking about?” I recalled Zeke talking to Henry at the factory, almost out of my hearing. You had it all planned perfect, he’d said. I th
“I can’t go shopping with you.” Lucy stood up, lifting her plate from the table. “People will think I approve of you, and I don’t,” she said. “I never will.”
35
As I waited on the sidewalk for the cab that would take me downtown, a police car drove past at a snail’s pace. Before I even saw the policeman’s face, I knew he would be the same one who’d driven past me repeatedly the day I walked to the post office. He’d been the high bidder on Lucy’s box supper. Teddy Wright. When he was close enough for me to see his face, I waved. He turned away from me abruptly and sped up, looking straight ahead, as if he hadn’t noticed me at all. A strange young man, I thought.
The cab delivered me downtown where there were several small clothing shops I might have gone into, but I decided to try the Belk-Broome department store instead. I thought I might be more anonymous in a big store. I doubted it would have a maternity department, or if it did, it would be tucked away in some hidden corner and I wouldn’t dare ask for it. After all, I’d only been married a little over a month and wasn’t about to give myself away.
I hoped to get three or four loose-fitting dresses and something smart—a suit, perhaps, if I could find one roomy enough to accommodate my expanding figure. I wanted to wear it when I traveled to Winston-Salem to take the exam, now only two weeks away. I hadn’t brought the subject up with Henry again because, frankly, I didn’t want to hear him say I couldn’t go. I was going to do this on my own, whether he approved or not.
I found the dress department easily and an auburn-haired salesgirl in her late twenties approached me, a green floral dress over her arm.
“You’re Hank Kraft’s wife, aren’t you?” she asked.
So much for being anonymous. I smiled my most winning smile. “Yes,” I said. “Do you know Henry?”
“Of course,” she said. “Who doesn’t? But I recognized you from the box supper when Violet Dare’s daddy took quite a shine to you.”
It had hardly been a “shine,” I thought, but I managed to hold on to my smile. “That was a fun night, wasn’t it?” I asked.
“Sure was.” She smoothed the skirt of the dress she held in her arms. “And how can I help you today?”
“I’d like to buy a few dresses,” I said. “And perhaps a suit.”
Her gaze dropped instantly to the center of my body. Somehow she knew. How? Did all of Hickory know the truth about Henry and me?
“Well, bless your heart,” she said, and I knew better than to think the words were spoken from kindness. She hung up the dress on a nearby rack, then turned back to me. “Let’s see what we can find,” she said, pulling a tape measure from the pocket of her skirt. “What’s your usual size?” she asked. “Or do we need to go up one?” She raised her eyebrows, looking innocent.
My waist had been twenty-three inches since I was a teenager. I knew that wasn’t what it measured now. I took a step away from her and her tape measure. “I think I’ll know the right size when I see it,” I said. A ridiculous statement, I thought, but I would have to live with it.
“Well, let’s find you something darling that’s also nice and loose,” she said, and I gritted my teeth. What could I say? This had been a mistake. I should have traveled to another town for this shopping spree, and I wished Henry had thought to suggest it. I felt like leaving, but I’d only create more rumors if I fled. Instead, I would try to win the salesgirl over.
“Your hair is the most beautiful color,” I said as I followed her through the racks of dresses. Her short, rich auburn bob really was attractive on her.
“Thank you,” she said, smoothing her hair with her palm.
“Have you lived in Hickory all your life?” I asked, as she looked through the dresses for one that might fit.
“Now, how about this one?” she asked, as if I hadn’t spoken. She pulled a yellow housedress from the rack, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to engage her. She already had her mind made up about me. She was probably one of Violet’s friends.
I tried on two dresses. They fit well and neither the salesgirl nor I mentioned that they each had extra room at the waist. But they were both an inch or so too long.
“I’ll have these taken up for you and delivered to your house in two or three days,” she said.
“Wonderful,” I said, ushering her out of the dressing room. I didn’t want her to see me in my slip. I knew I was finished with this shopping trip. I would have to do without a suit.
I stewed over the experience quietly as I rode in the cab home. I would tell Henry about the salesgirl and ask him if there was another town nearby where I might have some anonymity.
And I would have asked him, if he’d ever come home that night.
36
A few mornings later, I was sitting at my dressing table in my slip when I heard the doorbell ring. I was studying the knitting pattern I’d bought for my baby’s sweater, and when the bell rang a second time, I remembered that Hattie was at the market. I had no idea where Ruth or Lucy were. I quickly threw on a housedress and headed for the stairs.
In the foyer, I found Ruth closing the front door. She was holding the mail, and she looked in my direction.
“That was a delivery boy from Belk’s,” she said. Her white chin-length hair, rigid with hair spray, sat on her head like a helmet.
I looked at the table by the front door where we left packages and mail for one another. “Did he have a package for me?” I asked.
“He did,” she said, not looking up as she sifted through the stack of mail in her hands. “But I told him to take it back.”
“You sent it back?” I asked in disbelief, remembering the ordeal I’d endured as I tried on the dresses, the salesgirl hovering over me.
Ruth plucked a catalog from the stack of mail and held it in the air. “I guess you didn’t recall our conversation where I told you to order clothing from the Lane Bryant catalog,” she said. “There was no reason for you to trouble yourself with a trip into town.”
“It was no trouble.” I tried to keep my voice even, but I was seething inside. Was there some way to get those dresses back?
“I’m so curious to understand why you’d tell Mary Sue Lamb you’re expecting.” Ruth wore a puzzled smile, and her question knocked me momentarily off balance. I guessed Mary Sue Lamb was the salesgirl at Belk’s and that Ruth somehow knew every detail about my visit to the store.
“Is that the salesgirl?” I asked. “I didn’t tell her or anyone else that I was expecting. She already knew. Is she a friend of Lucy’s? Maybe Lucy said something to her.”
There was an almost visible crack in Ruth’s false smile. “Let’s not pass the blame on to Lucy, shall we?” She handed me the catalog. “It will be much simpler for you to find the appropriate clothing in here,” she said.
“Ruth,” I said, “I want that package back. I’m an adult. It took me a long time to find the right dresses. I purchased them on my own with my own money. I don’t think—”
“With whose money?” she asked.
I might have continued defending myself if I hadn’t noticed the small pink envelope in the remaining stack of mail she was holding. Gina’s stationery. That envelope was my connection to the one person I knew loved me.
“Is that letter for me?” I asked, walking toward her, my hand outstretched.
She looked at the envelope and for a moment I thought she was going to taunt me with it, holding it out of my reach, but after a few charged seconds, she handed it to me.
“You won’t go into town again,” she said.
I ignored her, turning away and heading for the stairs. I was too busy tearing open the envelope to care what Ruth wanted.
37
The Catholic church was a small granite building on the corner of Tenth Street and McComb, and as soon as I walked inside I felt the embrace of the stained-glass-infused light. I dipped my fingertips into the holy water font and
Vincent, I thought to myself. I made so many mistakes. Forgive me. I love you. I miss you.
Near the altar, a priest walked from one side of the church to the other, genuflecting as he passed the tabernacle. His pale blond hair was combed back from his forehead and he looked quite young from where I knelt. I wished I could talk to him, but I couldn’t bear the thought of being berated again. I was tired of being made to feel small and guilty. I studied the priest, trying to glean if he might, by some miracle, be the first person who really understood who I was at my core. I was human. I made mistakes, like everyone else. The only problem was that my mistakes came with terrible consequences.
I pulled Gina’s letter from my handbag and read the painful middle paragraphs one more time in the dim light of the church.
I know you told me not to give you any information about Vincent, and I’ve driven myself crazy trying to decide if I should tell you this or not. I know you feel as though you hurt him terribly and that he might never recover from the blow, so I decided I should tell you what I know. I hope it eases your worry about him and doesn’t add any pain to your situation.
When you first left, he called me often and pleaded with me to tell him where you were and of course I said nothing. Then his calls stopped. Yesterday, I bumped into Rosemary Tomasulo and she told me that Vincent is now working at that Harriet Lane Hospital for Children at Johns Hopkins and he likes it. She also said he’s seeing a nurse who works there and is really happy. I know how much you loved him, Tess, so I hope you can be happy for him. And I hope it isn’t a mistake for me to tell you all this. Please forgive me if it is.
I sat still, my eyes closed. The pain I felt was intense, as though my heart were squeezing itself dry. I had to make myself be happy for Vincent. It was good he’d found someone so quickly, I told myself. Someone to take his mind off how I’d hurt him. Yet thinking of him in love with another girl tore me apart.