“I’m happy to do it,” I told her with a smile. I’d never lost my discomfort over watching Hattie work while I did nothing. I might be sitting in the upstairs parlor reading while she ran the carpet sweeper around my feet. When I expressed my discomfort to Henry, he scoffed. “She’s not a slave, Tess,” he said. “She’s well compensated for her work.” I didn’t bother explaining to him that it had nothing to do with her being colored. Black, white, purple, it made no difference. I just didn’t like being waited on.
“Have you seen our mutual friend lately?” I asked her, referring, of course, to Reverend Sam.
She pressed a finger to her lips. “Miss Ruth don’t want me talkin’ to you so much,” she said in a near whisper. “She don’t think you understand how things is s’posed to be.”
“Oh,” I whispered back, feeling sad. I didn’t want to lose my relationship with Hattie. “I don’t want to cause you any trouble, Hattie,” I said. “I’m just grateful you introduced me to him.”
She gave a little nod, then left the room. I shut the door behind her and headed for the armoire with the suit. I turned the ornate key and opened the mirrored door carefully, respectful of its age and a fragility I might only have been imagining. I was still taken by that beautiful piece of furniture. The incredibly smooth finish of the exterior wood, the subtle scent of cedar when I opened the door, and that satin aquamarine lining. Even the floor of the armoire, which was about at the height of my knees, was lined with the satin. Looking down at that floor after hanging up the suit, I saw something—a piece of leather?—jutting up from between the floor and the wall of the armoire. Odd. It looked a bit like the tapered end of a belt. I reached for it, my fingers grasping it as I tried to pull it from the crevice between the wall and floor. I was surprised when the whole floor of the armoire came loose in my hand, and I realized the bit of leather was simply a tab used to pull up the false bottom. I lifted the satin-covered board completely out of the floor of the armoire and gasped when I saw what was below: money. The bottom of the armoire was two-thirds full of bills, all denominations, it seemed, banded together in stacks. How much was there? And why? I knew Henry did his banking at First National. He was hardly the type to sock money away beneath his mattress. I knelt down in front of the armoire and began to count the bundles. A little more than two thousand dollars. A fortune! What was it doing here? I fitted the false floor back in place, arranging the leather tab so it looked exactly as it had when I’d discovered it. I felt as though I’d snooped into Henry’s private world. I would say nothing to him about this discovery. At least not yet.
*
Downstairs, I was glad to find that Ruth had already left for one of her many meetings. I never enjoyed trying to make conversation with her over a meal. I joined Lucy at the table where she was reading the newspaper and she didn’t bother to look up at me as I took my seat. Hattie brought me a plate of eggs and grits and poured coffee into my cup, and I opened one of the sections of the paper next to my plate.
I looked across the table at Lucy, who seemed engrossed in whatever she was reading. I thought of asking her to join me on my shopping spree. How I missed Gina! We always had so much fun shopping together. If only I could have a similar relationship with my sister-in-law. Sitting there, eating together quietly, though not companionably, I felt intimidated about asking her to go with me. She had nearly finished her eggs and was sipping her coffee when I finally found the courage.
“I’m going shopping for clothes today,” I said. “Would you like to come with me? It’s so good to get someone else’s opinion on what to buy.”
She set down her cup and looked up from the paper. “No offense, Tess,” she said, “but I don’t really want to be seen with you in town.”
My cheeks burned. “Why do you dislike me so much?” I asked.
She leaned back from the table. “Let me count the ways,” she said. “First, you’re a slut.”
I knew I should stop the conversation right there, but maybe it would be good to finally get it all out in the open. “I’m not a slut,” I said. “Henry is the only man I’ve ever slept with and it was only that once and I deeply regret it. Not that it’s any of your business.”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you really expect me to believe that? That he was the only man you ever slept with? And how well could you have possibly known him? He didn’t go to Washington all that often. He had to have been a near stranger to you. It’s appalling. Did he pay you?”
“Of course not,” I snapped.
“And then you get pregnant and come here expecting him to marry you and—”
“I didn’t expect him to marry me,” I said. “I just wanted help. Financial help, so I could raise this child on my own.”
She stared at me. “Everybody knew … Everybody! That he and Violet would get married. That house he’s building? Violet practically designed it. They worked on it together with an architect. So I’m sorry that you, on your so-called first-time-sleeping-with-a-man got pregnant, but you should have found some other way to deal with it than to come here and ruin our lives.”
“I don’t think he was in love with her.”
“Well, do you think he’d tell you that?”
“I didn’t hold a gun to his head and tell him he needed to marry me,” I said, my anger starting to boil. “He asked me of his own free will.”
“Because he’s a good man. Of course that’s what he did.” She lifted her coffee cup to her lips again, but set it down without taking a sip. “Everyone here hates you,” she said bluntly. “They love Violet. And really,” she said, shaking her head, “you don’t know the half of it.”
“The half of what?”
She looked at her empty plate and let out a great sigh. “Nothing,” she said.
“What more is there, Lucy?” I asked. What more could there possibly be?
When she looked up at me, there were tears in her eyes. “Do you love him?” she asked.
I steadied myself, getting my anger in check. She was hurting, for a reason I didn’t understand. “Not yet,” I said. “But I hope in time…”
“This wasn’t the plan,” she said. “You weren’t part of the plan.”
“What are you talking about?” I recalled Zeke talking to Henry at the factory, almost out of my hearing. You had it all planned perfect, he’d said. I thought of the money I’d just discovered in the armoire. Was that part of the plan too?
“I can’t go shopping with you.” Lucy stood up, lifting her plate from the table. “People will think I approve of you, and I don’t,” she said. “I never will.”
35