“No, I’m coming,” he said. “I keep picturing you going through your mother’s things alone. How hard that’s got to be. I don’t want you to be alone, honey.”
“Your mother’s helping,” I said, which was a partial truth. Mimi wanted to help, but I was shutting her out. I couldn’t bear to have her close by any longer. I felt as though every word that came out of my mouth was a lie. Plus, I was not only emptying the house of my mother’s personal belongings, carting bags of clothing and books to the donation center at St. Leo’s. I was also emptying it of everything we owned. Everything I could carry.
“I’m coming and that’s final,” Vincent said.
Oh, Vincent. To see him one more time. To touch him. Wrap my arms around him. I couldn’t let it happen.
I would have to be gone by the time he arrived.
16
Hickory, North Carolina
I spotted Henry and his butter-yellow Cadillac the moment I stepped off the train into a biting cold wind. Despite the roomette, I’d slept little and my nerves were on fire as I tried to absorb the fact that, in a few short hours, I would be married.
I’d left the letter for Vincent on the kitchen table in my nearly barren house, along with my engagement ring. I pictured him standing in the empty kitchen, reading the letter, staring at the ring. I felt his confusion. His hurt. I imagined him walking back to his own house where he would tell Mimi and Pop I was gone and wouldn’t be coming back. He would call Gina, who had promised me she would never tell him—or anyone else—where I was. The whole scenario was unbearable to think about, so I tried to wipe the images from my mind during the trip and focus on the future awaiting me in Hickory. You’re strong, I told myself as the train chugged through the bleak winter countryside. You can do this. It was the truth. I’d been strong all my life, and in spite of everything I’d been up against the past month, I’d still managed to graduate from nursing school. I would be strong now, too, for the sake of my baby. I thought about that little one, the cause of everything. The reason for everything. And for the first time in many days, I smiled to myself. You will have a daddy, I said to him, my hand resting on my belly. You will have a wonderful life. I promise.
Henry greeted me from where he stood next to his Cadillac. He smiled his handsome smile, held my shoulders lightly, and planted a swift kiss on my cheek. “How was your trip?” he asked, lifting my suitcase from the ground and setting it in the trunk.
“Good,” I said. “I appreciated the roomette.”
He shut the trunk and gave me a sympathetic look. “I know it’s been a difficult week for you,” he said. “And I’m terribly sorry about your mother.”
He was so kind. “Thank you,” I said, watching as he opened the passenger side door for me.
“Come on.” He guided me into the car, his hand on my elbow. “Let’s go get married.”
We drove directly from the train station to the justice of the peace’s office in an area called Union Square. For the first time, I got a good look at Hickory’s downtown and found it charming. There were shops of all variety, large and small, and the streets were alive with cars, the sidewalks bustling with people. Henry found a parking place half a block from the office. I felt conspicuous as we walked that half block. We didn’t speak and we might as well have been two strangers for the lack of physical closeness between us.
The justice of the peace was a dark-haired, dark-eyed man named Franklin Carver and it was clear from the moment we entered the reception area that he knew Henry well. He greeted him with a hearty handshake and me with a curious smile.
“You’re a lucky girl,” he said as he ushered us into his office. “I’ve known Hank since we were five years old and can tell you for a fact that plenty of girls have wanted to get their hands on him over the years. He’s a pillar of the community.” He clapped Henry on the shoulder as he smiled at me. “There must be something very special about you to finally get this boy to settle down.”
I squirmed with embarrassment, in way over my head. I didn’t know Hickory or those “plenty of girls,” though I imagined that Violet Dare was one of them. I didn’t know “Hank’s” history. I didn’t even really know “Hank.” But I assumed the man was paying me a compliment, so I smiled at him.
“Thank you,” I said. I noticed his gaze dropped to my stomach. I was wearing a pale yellow skirt and matching jacket that I was certain masked any telltale bulge.
“There’s definitely something special about Tess.” Henry rested his hand on my arm. He looked at me admiringly and I wondered for the first time if he actually did see something in me other than just my status as the mother of his child. I wasn’t sure what that could be, since he barely knew me.
“Y’all have a seat while we wait for our witnesses—my office staff—to join us,” Franklin said as he settled in behind his desk. “You have the documents?” He looked at us as we sat down across from him. “Blood tests and medical examinations?”
Henry reached into his jacket pocket as I reached into my handbag and we slid the papers across the desk to Franklin, watching as he gave them a cursory once-over. I’d managed to get the blood test and physical exam just in time for this trip. I’d gone to yet another unfamiliar doctor in Baltimore. This one told me I was fit to get married, “and the sooner the better.”
Franklin leaned back in his chair, his gaze on Henry. “Things aren’t looking too good for Gaston,” he said. “Did you hear?”
I thought this was idle chitchat between friends as we waited for Franklin’s receptionist, but Henry sat up straighter, as though the news had great meaning to him.
“What’s happened?” he asked.
“Byron Dare brought in a doctor who knew Loretta’s daddy. He testified that Loretta’s definitely half colored, as if it weren’t obvious enough.” He pronounced the word colored, “cuh-luhed.” It would take me a while to get used to the accent down here. “So the charge against Gaston is now fornication and adultery.” He glanced at me. “Pardon my French,” he said, and returned his gaze to Henry. “Both he and Loretta are going to land themselves in prison.”
“They should never have come back,” Henry said.
I looked questioningly at him.
“Gaston Joyner’s an old friend of ours from our school days,” he said. “He fell for this colored gal and they went up North—Pennsylvania—so they could get married legally, but then they came back to North Carolina hoping to live here.”
“Oh,” I said, trying to sound engaged in the conversation. I thought this Gaston Joyner didn’t sound very smart. First, getting mixed up with a colored girl and second, coming back to the South where they would never be welcome. I thought it was crazy that any state in the country allowed colored and white to get married in the first place. It only created problems for everyone.