“What is that little building?” I asked.
“Our maid, Hattie, lives there,” he said, opening his door. He circled the car to open my door for me before collecting our suitcases from the trunk. Together, we walked to the front door of the house. My future was inside that house and I had no idea what it held.
A maid dressed in a gray uniform and white apron opened the door as we climbed the two steps to the small stone porch.
“Mornin’, Mr. Hank.” She stepped back to let us into the house, her eyes on me with frank curiosity. She was slender, almost reedlike. Her black hair was tucked under a ruffly white cap, and she looked to be in her late thirties.
“This is Tess, my new wife,” he said, as he set our suitcases on the gleaming hardwood floor of the wide foyer. “Tess, this is Hattie.”
“Hello, Hattie.” I smiled.
“Miss Tess.” She nodded. “They in the livin’ room waitin’ for you, Mr. Hank. I’ll carry them suitcases up to your room?” She didn’t move her gaze from my face for a single second.
“I’ll see to the suitcases,” Henry said. “You can get us some tea?”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
Henry guided me by the elbow toward the closed door to our right. “Courage,” he whispered in my ear as he opened the door, and we walked into a beautiful sun-filled room adorned with pink and gold floral wallpaper and thick oriental rugs. Henry’s mother and sister sat in wing chairs flanking a white brick fireplace. His mother rose to her feet and came toward us. She was fiftyish, a bit older than my own mother had been, and she wore a beige wool skirt, white blouse, and handsome blue and green patterned scarf. She had Henry’s blue eyes, and her well-styled chin-length hair was completely white. She was quite beautiful.
“Hello, dear,” she said to her son, kissing his cheek. Then she held her hand out to me. Her smile struck me as practiced and warm, but her hand was ice-cold.
“This is Theresa Kraft,” Henry announced and I nearly corrected him. It would take me a while to get used to my new surname. “She goes by Tess.”
“I’m happy to meet you, Mrs. Kraft,” I said.
“Call me Miss Ruth, dear,” she said. She was holding both my hands now. “Welcome to our home, Tess. Come sit with us. Lucy, aren’t you going to greet your new sister-in-law?”
Lucy hadn’t bothered to get up from the wingback chair. She looked over at us. “Hi,” she said. The hooded look she gave me told me she’d already made up her mind that she wouldn’t like me. She was going to be my challenge.
“Hi.” I gave Lucy my warmest smile as I sat down on the nearby sofa. She was a pretty girl who looked younger than twenty. Her hair, cut in a bob that nearly reached her shoulders, was the same dirty blond as Gina’s. She wore a dark blue skirt, navy cardigan over a pale blue blouse, and pearls. “It’s so good to meet you both,” I added, hoping I was the only person in the room to pick up the shiver in my voice. I noticed the painting hanging above the mantel. Lucy and Henry as children. They sat on a bench in front of a body of blue water. “What a beautiful painting,” I said.
All three of them looked up at the painting as though they’d forgotten it was there.
“Yes,” Ruth said. “Lucy was three there and Hank, ten.”
“It’s lovely,” I said.
Hattie came into the room carrying a tray with a silver tea service and a plate of small chocolate cookies. She was older than I’d thought at first—somewhere in her early forties—but her dark skin was as smooth as satin and she carried the laden tray as though it were made of paper. She set it down on the coffee table in front of me, and everyone was quiet as she poured us each a cup. I longed to simply lean forward and do it myself. I didn’t like being waited on.
“No tea for me, Hattie,” Henry said when she started to pour the fourth cup. He got to his feet. “I’ll let you gals get to know each other while I take the suitcases upstairs.” He and Hattie left the room together, and I was alone with my new in-laws. I took a sip of tea from my cup, then set it on the end table next to a multicolored glass vase. I noticed those glass vases were everywhere in that room.
“This is pretty,” I said, gently touching the lip of the vase. I looked at Ruth. “You must be a collector.”
“Of Tiffany vases, yes I am,” she said, and I saw Lucy roll her eyes. “I received one as a wedding present and I’ve been collecting them ever since.” She set her saucer and cup on the table next to her chair and smiled at me. “Tell us all about yourself, Tess,” she said. “Hank said you grew up in Baltimore?”
“Yes.” I had the feeling I shouldn’t mention Little Italy.
“Brothers and sisters?”
“No,” I said. “A very small family. It was just my mother and me, since my father passed away when I was young. And,” I added, “I recently lost my mother, as well.”
“Oh no.” Ruth looked pained. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Was it sudden?”
“Yes,” I said. “She had a fall and hit her head.”
“Tragic,” Ruth said, her hand to her cheek. “You must be reeling.”
“I am,” I admitted. What would my mother make of this house? These people?
“What sort of work did your father do?”
I knew better than to say he’d been a plumber. “He had a home repair business,” I said.
Her face lit up, ever so slightly. “Ah, so he was a businessman,” she said. “How many employees did he have under him?”
I could see no way around the truth. “It was just him,” I said. “He did everything himself.” I knew she now pictured him in grimy work clothes, crawling around under people’s houses to work on their pipes. Which would be completely accurate.
“I understand you and Hank have known each other quite a while,” she said, changing the topic.
“Yes, we met in Washington a while back,” I said, hoping I didn’t need to be more specific. I wasn’t sure exactly when Henry had told her we met.
“You were in Washington because…?” she prompted.
“I was with a girlfriend,” I said. “We wanted to visit the Smithsonian.”
“And you met Hank and charmed him off his feet.” She gave me a smile I couldn’t read.
I frankly didn’t want to remember meeting Henry or anything else about that visit to Washington. “He was very nice,” I said weakly.
From her chair in front of the fire, Lucy snorted. “Try being his sister,” she said.
“Lucy!” Ruth snapped with a frown. “Please act your age.”
I turned to Lucy, wanting to get the questions off myself. “Henry says you go to college, Lucy,” I said. “What are you studying?”
“This and that.” She shrugged.
“Lucy is an English major at Lenoir-Rhyne, our excellent local college,” Ruth said.
“Wonderful,” I said. “Will you teach after you graduate?” I remembered Henry saying he couldn’t picture Lucy working.
“Hopefully, I’ll get married after I graduate,” she said.
“So, you have a suitor then?” I smiled.
“Not yet. Hard to have a suitor when you haven’t come out.”
“Come out?” I didn’t know what she meant.