“Especially because we have so many alliances across the color line,” Laurie said, chopping onions for soup.
“Different levels of access. Different treatment by men. There are places I can go, things I can say that Laurie can’t. And in the same way, there are places she’s allowed that I’m not. Laurie’s skin makes her invisible. If I were to interrupt my husband’s whiskey and cigars, the room would fall silent and remain that way, making it nearly impossible for me to hear anything. Meanwhile, Laurie has free access. They hear everything in service. Oh—you know.” Lucy looked at Kitty and then at the room to explain. “Kitty’s momma is a maid.”
Kitty’s twinge of embarrassment was soothed by Lucy’s explanation of the role’s power. By Lucy’s logic, it was the Negro servers at the White men’s clubs who had the best access. “Or the janitors.”
“You’d be surprised to know what people throw away,” Cora jumped in. “Every office, even the Oval Office,” she winked, “needs someone to empty the trash.”
Thus, the women in service at Blair House, just as in Cottonwood, knew everything about the White folks of Los Angeles. They passed information to everyone else for purposes of leverage and planning. Their word was the last, a directive that came from Laurie—only they could abort a plan, in mid-execution if need be.
Second in line were the writers, Liberty and Maude, and then those with access to politicians and heads of industry. Those passing focused on collecting money and running their mouths about the things that mattered.
Some, like Kitty, had longer-term goals.
“Wilma will start her hair care line soon, and we’ll back that.”
“She can hire Colored chemists,” Kitty said, understanding.
“Well, yes, but to run a company, Wilma needs more than just scientists. She’s insufferable, but she could potentially create thousands of jobs for Colored people one day.”
“Is that where some of the donation money goes?”
“To her, but also to Addie and Olivia, who are starting a maid service.”
“We help Mamie and her husband—they want to open a new place.”
“How much does Blair House make?” When Cora called it a network, Kitty realized, she wasn’t exaggerating.
“In due time,” Lucy said, looking at her gold watch. “We have to go get dressed. Oh, I forgot—there’s a little complication. Kitty tells me Emma took her real sisters’ names for their own.”
Laurie understood the gravity of the statement but shook her head. “The Karr family doesn’t ring a bell.”
“They own Holden’s,” Kitty explained.
Laurie looked between her sister and Cora. “Y’all didn’t tell me that.”
Cora had the simplest answer. “Guess we’ll have to make sure the coincidence is on their part.”
“What does that mean?”
“That when people meet the other Kitty Karr, they’ll think of you, instead of the other way around.”
Lucy’s voice rose. “Well, in the meantime, I brought it up to say we need to check guest lists a little more closely.”
“I’ll mention it,” Laurie said.
* * *
They arrived to the home of the banker Addie worked for, to celebrate the engagement of his daughter. Most of the guests had been invited that night just for cocktails and “canapés,” Lucy told Kitty to say. They were included in a smaller group invited for dinner because Cora, through Abner, had known the bride since she was a young girl. The manor’s corridor had two sets of stairs that led up to an open-air courtyard. Liberty, Bertha, and Lilly were serving that night. The banker had also bought dozens of Bertha’s dinner rolls and her rum cakes. She moved slowly with a tray of cheese puffs, as if her feet hurt.
Addie met them in the red-bricked open space with a tray of champagne. “May I show you to your seats?” She looked through their group at no one in particular.
They followed, greeting a few people who said hello. Thanks to their husbands, Lucy, Billie, and Nina were well-known socialites. Maude was the newer, brainy beauty and, as the movie star, Cora was adored. Kitty was easily accepted as a part of the crowd.
Addie’s pace increased down a hallway of closed-doored rooms.
A set of double doors opened to reveal a banquet hall and a long wooden table. Kitty found her seat between Lucy and a car manufacturer named Henry Polk, a jolly man who always wore a plaid tie. Knowing the Montgomery bus boycott would need cars, Kitty watched the women at work.
“How’s the car business, Henry?” Lucy asked. She took a bite of steak.
He groaned. “A little stagnant, to tell you the truth.”
“Really?” Lucy looked so innocent.
His wife joined in. “I told Henry he has to do something.”
“People have more money than ever to spend.”
“Negroes love your cars, Henry.” Cora, overhearing, made a joke.
“Part of my problem,” he said.
“Why do you care what color your customer is? It’s only more money for you,” Billie said, lighting a cigarette.
Henry coughed and reached for the whiskey he’d brought from the cocktail party. “Volume. More Whites than Coloreds can afford a car.”
The future bride spoke up. “Coloreds seem to have more money than we do these days—”
The men squelched her exaggeration.
“They’ll never catch up,” Cora said. “But Jane makes a good point. They have more money to spend than ever, graduating from secondary schools and working in trades now.”
“Still, being first pick to the Coloreds doesn’t scream ‘high class,’” Henry grumbled.
“Neither does being a sponsor of the KKK,” Cora said.
Henry turned beet red as the table began to laugh. “It’s not the Klan.”
“May as well be,” said a dark-haired, blue-eyed man who spoke with a Spanish accent. Had he not spoken, Kitty would have assumed he was White. Seated next to the host, he fumbled with his orange-and-yellow paisley tie. “No one belongs to the group but men like you.”
An older man with a gray moustache leaned in. “If you learned English, we might consider you.”
“You’ll let me join now because I’m rich enough.” The man pointed his finger. “Richer than you.”
Another white-haired man spoke up. “Money talks, se?or.”
“Then why can’t the Negroes join?” Maude said. “If they have money, their interests align with yours.”
Kitty heard a few men snicker, and a White woman with a bird comb in her hair spoke up. “Class has always been the real factor. You don’t want to join the Klan because of”—she lowered her voice—“the rednecks.”
“Hey! That’s my family you’re talking about!” This was a joke that made the table laugh.
“Mrs. Abraham isn’t wrong. Educated Negroes have more in common with you than the Irish.” Cora smirked.
One man yelled, “There’s nothing I got in common with a—”
“Kellen!” Billie said. Later Kitty would learn he was her brother-in-law.
“Some here don’t seem to be able to control their tempers.” Kellen’s wife patted her brow.
“And at an engagement party, no less. How uncouth!” Nina said.
“I do agree,” the host said. He nodded back at his waitstaff lining the wall. “Maybe an apology?”
“Please,” Lucy said. “I don’t want my food spit in tonight.”
The man stared at her, and Lucy stared right back, until his wife patted his arm. Kitty was sure he was going to storm out when he stood, but instead, he bowed halfheartedly to the people behind him. “Apologies.”
Kitty sensed the faint satisfaction of the line.
* * *
Back at Blair House, they laughed about this scene, while Laurie recorded the donations everyone collected that week.
“Once the boycott starts,” Cora said to Kitty, “we’ll suggest he give a few free cars to the cause—could result in Negro customer loyalty later.”
“If he doesn’t agree, we’ll start opposing boycotts among the Whites and Coloreds, and he’ll be forced to,” Maude said. She and Liberty would disseminate the information.
Laurie joined their circle with a leather notebook and pen.
“And then we can quietly accept his donation,” Lucy said.
“We wouldn’t want the crackers to get word and burn the cars.”