Kitty did so a few times before the fire died. A floating sensation in her head and body allowed her to relax back into the tub. Water covered her legs and half of her swelled middle. “What if something goes wrong?”
Nellie sat on the closed lid of the commode. “It won’t. I’ve been doing this since I was a child. I started assisting my aunt when I was nine. I was born with the gift, and I have twenty-one years of experience.” Nellie performed “essential medicine,” like the old man Emma had seen, and her services were reserved for and passed along to those in need of assistance with the most delicate conditions. She couldn’t work in a Colored hospital because she didn’t have formal training.
“How many babies have you delivered?”
“Yours will make fifty-three.”
* * *
Kitty’s body did stretch, leaving purplish-bluish marks on her stomach and hips that she would lament for years. The discomfort left remnants of its fury in her temperament; she was sullen and yelled at Nathan, who kept bringing her scripts and samples for the nursery. It felt cruel to have to prepare for a life she wasn’t sure would still be hers. She still didn’t have a plan.
Nellie snatched the covers off her legs one afternoon. “We’re going on a walk.”
“I can’t.” Being on her feet for too long made her hip bones ache.
“There’s a wheelchair waiting for you downstairs.”
It was hot outside. Kitty put her hand to her forehead to shield herself from the sun. Nellie plopped a hat on her head.
“Why won’t you settle on the design for the baby’s room?” Nellie asked.
“He told you to talk to me?”
“No, but I see how hurt he is when you refuse to look through those pictures with him. He’s been asking my opinion on the furniture and whatnot.”
“You can tell him. I don’t care.”
“If you’re not careful, he’ll transfer his affections to the baby, and you’ll never get him back.”
“Is this a warning from experience?” Kitty knew nothing about Nellie’s personal life. She never talked about her husband or anyone else and never went home, even on the weekends, when she could have.
“We don’t have children.”
Kitty was surprised, her being a midwife. “But you’re so maternal. Didn’t you want them?”
“I never considered it. I knew I couldn’t have babies since I was a young girl.” Nellie explained that she had never started menstruating. Her aunt said she was born without ovaries.
Kitty reached over her shoulder to touch Nellie’s hand. “I’m sorry for all my talk about not wanting this baby.”
“No bother. I’m the oldest in a family of ten; having children wasn’t something I felt I’d be missing out on. I’m warning you ’cause I’ve seen this time and time again. Having a baby can be difficult on your marriage.”
“Do you normally live in until the baby is born?”
“It’s easier that way.”
Kitty turned to look back at Nellie. “For who?”
“Ha!” Nellie laughed, surprised by Kitty’s forwardness, and then resigned herself to honesty. “My husband hasn’t worked since we moved here. I let him face his frustrations in peace.”
Kitty had heard this before. She wanted to ask whether his frustration had caused a temper problem, a drinking problem, a woman problem, or all three. “What type of work does he do?”
“Farmer, by trade, but he’ll take anything at this point.” His agricultural skills were easily transferable, but those jobs weren’t open to Negroes.
“Did you come here to farm?”
“Long story.”
“I don’t have anything to do but listen,” Kitty said.
Nellie’s husband had owned their land in Georgia; he was one of the few Negroes who did, and came from a long line of planters. That land had been passed down three generations, an inheritance from his White great-great-grandfather, Frederick Shore, to his mulatto son, who earned enough building iron gates to buy his freedom.
“His father didn’t set him free?”
“He was too valuable. His ironwork is all over Georgia.”
“What a legacy.”
“A lot of trouble, is what it is. They were after that land for decades, and they finally got it. We arrived here with nothing but the clothes on our backs. They heard people were meeting on our farm and burnt our house down. If our neighbor’s daughter hadn’t overheard their plans, I wouldn’t be here today. We hid in the back of a milk truck. The driver was a childhood friend of Clifford’s. White man. He hid us at the risk of his life and his family’s. His wife drove us to Kansas in the trunk of her car, with their three children in the back seat. We took the train west from there.”
“What were the meetings about?”
“Unionizing.”
“Is that why he can’t find a job here?”
“No. He’s never worked in service before, and those are most of the jobs available.”
“The studio’s always looking for janitors. I’ll let Nathan know.”
“Clifford has too much pride.”
“Let him get hungry enough.”
“That’s how it goes in my mind too.” It had been five years, she said, and his anger cut so deep it was a wonder he was still breathing.
Kitty convinced Nathan to give Nellie a raise. Whether Kitty’s baby was born looking Negro, White, or something in between, it would have to pass through Nellie’s hands. Nellie would only help her, if it came to that, if she genuinely liked Kitty—loved her, really. Kitty knew it wouldn’t be easy. Around White folks, Nellie, like every Negro, wore another face, and Kitty understood that she would never reveal her real self unless Kitty did first.
Kitty almost did when Sidney Poitier finally won his Oscar. Nellie, Kitty, and Nathan were all watching the ceremony together in the living room. When Nathan hugged them both, Kitty felt annoyed. Was he cheering so as to not offend Nellie, or was his enthusiasm genuine? Kitty wasn’t sure. She kept her eyes fixed on the television but contemplated stealing a look at Nellie. She wanted to share the joy exploding in her body. If she did it, right then, Kitty knew Nellie would hear her without words. But Nellie wouldn’t look away from the TV, even after the commercials. Kitty understood she had also felt Nathan’s veiled apathy.
CHAPTER 33
Kitty
Fall 1964
Kitty first saw Sarah in a dream. She was three or four years old, with Hazel’s rich coloring and two thick, dark-brown ponytails braided down her back. Sarah was on her tiptoes, reaching for a cake in the middle of the table. Decorated with sprinkles and a ton of candles, it looked like one of Mrs. Nora’s. As the child’s little fingers clawed into the icing, Hazel appeared at the head of the table. “Who said that belongs to you?”
There had been hints of Hazel before in Kitty’s dreams, but she had never appeared in full form. Kitty reached for her, but the movement propelled her awake.
She went downstairs to Nellie’s room, off the kitchen. Nathan had offered her a room on the second floor, to be closer to Kitty, but they both refused. Kitty wanted to maintain privacy, and Nellie wanted the service quarters so she could smoke on the back patio before bed.
Nellie opened the door fast. Her hands cupped Kitty’s belly. “Is it time?”
“I’m fine.” Kitty pushed her way in and shut the door. “There’s something you should know about me.”
“I know you’re Colored,” Nellie said. “You told me outright during one of your fits. Remember that night I gave you my pipe? That’s why. I worried you’d say it to your husband, so I started watching you like a hawk.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I knew you had to tell me eventually. I can see the panic in your eyes when you talk about the baby. It’s like you’re not sure if it’s yours or not.”
Kitty’s hands went to her stomach. That was exactly the way she felt.
“You’ve made yourself sick worrying that the baby won’t look White. I see ones like you all the time. Most times they don’t even know they’re Colored.”
“She won’t be able to pass. That’s what I came to tell you.”
“She?”
“I had a dream. I saw her.” Seeing Nellie stiffen, her anxiety began to rise.