“That’s who Judy was talking about,” Kitty remembered.
“Yes, and when she died last month, you joined me here. You have to be able to recite that story in your sleep. If you don’t believe it, no one else will.”
“You made all that up?”
“Everything but the names. Karr is my last name.”
“And our first names?”
“I suppose you wouldn’t believe me if I said I made them up?”
“No.”
“They’re my sisters.”
“Do you have a picture of them?”
“No.” Emma flicked her cigarette into the brass horse-head ashtray atop a pile of books she was using as a table. “Don’t volunteer the album, but if you have to, it’s here.”
“Have you had to do it?”
“Once.”
“Who are these people really?”
“Relatives of the White folks our mommas worked for.”
“They stole them?”
“Over time, here and there.”
Kitty flipped the pages, curious if any of the Lakeses were in the book. She wouldn’t have recognized them, but if the pictures were stolen as Emma said, all of Hazel’s contributions would have been from the Lakeses.
In the back were the portraits of the two of them taken at Ivey’s. Emma fingered a Christmas photo. “I remember that day.” Emma had been sixteen and Kitty thirteen, and it was the last time they agreed to match. Now Kitty understood that their mothers had insisted on matching outfits so they would look more like sisters.
“Why did you stop coming to Charlotte?” Kitty asked.
“We had to move. I was going through a lot back then. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better friend to you.”
“I missed you, is all.”
“I missed you too. And after everything, terribly.”
“Why did you have to move?”
“It was a long time coming. I grew up living in a house with my momma, my father, his wife, and their eight kids. Nine, with me. It was a big house, and my momma and I lived in the attic,” Emma said, “because it wasn’t always appropriate for me to be around.”
Emma spoke about her past with ease, something Kitty never would have expected from Lillian. It was as if her new identity had erased some of the shame she used to carry. “I got new clothes and toys when my siblings did but I wasn’t allowed to go to their school, sleep in a bedroom downstairs, or eat at their dinner table. I called him Father but never in front of company.”
Emma took a long drag from her cigarette and watched the billow of smoke escape from her lips, thinking. “I understood there were rules we had to abide by to keep our family arrangement intact. Then I became a threat to my sisters’ marriage prospects, and we had to leave.”
“The cotillion.”
“Yes. It was one thing to let me be in it, but when my sister’s beau became interested in me, rumors passed that I was Negro. That gave my father’s wife the excuse she needed to get rid of us. She’d been waiting for that day my whole life.”
“What did your father say?”
“Truth was, he couldn’t afford to take care of all of us anymore and was too ashamed to say it. His clothing store was losing money. Had been for a while. With four girls left to marry off, he got scared. My momma and I moved to the Negro side of town. No one would talk to us. We moved a few times, until I just couldn’t take it anymore and came here.”
“I’m sorry.” Kitty had felt unwanted and lonely sometimes growing up, but home had been a safe place.
Emma finished her drink and got up to pour another. “Don’t be. It prepared me for all of this.”
Kitty worried her own education wouldn’t be enough. She’d been tricked into leaving; she hadn’t wanted to. Emma had always had an edge she didn’t.
“What about your father?” Emma asked.
“I don’t know who he is.” The lie came out before Kitty considered whether Emma already knew the truth. “My momma never talked about it.”
“Why should we carry the bad things with us?”
When Emma didn’t let on that she knew different, Kitty realized that Hazel must have felt the same shame she did. After all those years, it seemed she would have shared her past and Mary’s parentage with Catherine, especially since they were planning to tether one daughter to another. “Why did you take your family’s names? You said to leave everything in the past.”
“I picked names I’d always answer to.” She took a broom from the coat closet by the front door. “I told Ida, my supervisor, you’d start at the studio Monday.”
Maids answered phones, Kitty thought. She wanted none of it. “Thanks, but I’m going to look into colleges here.”
Emma stopped sweeping to stretch her eyes at Kitty. “You can’t—your high school transcripts are in your real name. I arranged this job for you. You have to take it, or it’ll be rude. You can quit if you want after you get settled.”
“Well, what other jobs do they have?”
“A few girls do hair and makeup. Some work in costumes, one of the restaurants on the lot hires waitresses, and there are also secretaries who—”
“I’m interested in a secretary position.”
Emma put her hands to her hips. “Jobs at Telescope don’t open up often. Judy and Daphne both have college degrees and have been there a lot longer than you. You going after one of those jobs would anger everyone, and it’s best we don’t make ourselves too noticeable. Besides, we’re not trying to advance at work. The goal is to marry well so you don’t have to work at all.” She sang the last part as if it was a line in a musical and returned to sweeping.
“Don’t you have to make yourself noticeable to find a husband?”
Emma let the broom handle hit the wall. “Men will seek you out whether you want them to or not. You need to work on making yourself likable.”
Kitty balked. “What’s unlikable about me?”
“Nothing yet, as long as you follow the rules.”
CHAPTER 15
Elise
Sunday evening, October 29, 2017
“Kitty was my best friend since I was twelve.”
Elise stood inside the mouth of Kitty’s wall-to-wall living-room fireplace, avoiding eye contact with her audience. She found it hard to continue. Elise was a natural public speaker, but trying to deliver Kitty’s eulogy in front of people who didn’t know her personally, with a spotlight and camera in her face, made her palms and underarms sweat. She regretted her recent switch to natural deodorant.
The strangers on Kitty’s guest list occupied the front, arranged in rows like schoolchildren. They were heads of the charities Kitty supported, who introduced themselves with stories about how Kitty had changed their lives and sent Christmas cards every year.
Elise got caught in a corner with Lyndsey Mack, who had just formally taken over operations of the women’s and children’s shelters Kitty funded. She was up front now, with her parents. Her mother, Laurie, had been the operator and figurehead leader of the shelters for decades. Recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, she was in a wheelchair that evening, but only for containment. Her disease had turned her into a social butterfly who continuously met everyone for the first time.
Her parents’ famous peers lined the wall like spectators, accessorizing the somber mood with chic black suits and netted face coverings. None of them had been on Kitty’s list. Sarah said she needed them for insulation from the strangers, but Elise knew her mother preferred to simulate mourning in front of an audience, to avoid real emotion. Giovanni had confessed that some of their parents’ closest confidants were, like the masses, surprised that Kitty lived next door.
Kitty’s friends were gathered with their families on Elise’s right, as if they were waiting in the wing of a stage to speak. It didn’t seem likely. Grief had turned the Golden Girls stoic.
They used to visit Kitty on special occasions—more when Grandma Nellie was alive. Elise had tried to eavesdrop, but their voices were so low behind the door, it sounded as if the room was empty.