“Are you all right?” he asked quietly. I saw the anxiety in his face. The tight muscles around his jaw. The plea in his eyes.
“We can talk later,” I said, walking past him toward the main building. In spite of my anger, I felt sorry for him, yet I wanted to make him worry. Make him stew over what I might do. I liked my new power. I only had to decide how to use it.
*
That night, we lay in our separate beds staring at the moonlight on the ceiling, talking. He told me what it had been like, falling in love with Honor when he was a teenager, and the terror that came with emotions that should have been joyful and pure.
“We weren’t lovers back then, of course,” he said. “We were just two kids who couldn’t wait to see each other when we got home from our schools. Even though she lived in the cottage with Adora and Zeke, right here on our property, my mother kept an eagle eye on us once I was thirteen or fourteen. Back then, the woods over by the church hadn’t been developed yet, so we’d go there. We’d walk over separately, of course, being careful no one could see us. She’d bring some of Adora’s cookies.” I heard the smile in his voice as he reminisced. “It didn’t matter what time of year it was, we’d meet. And all we did for years, it seemed, was talk. We imagined a future that could never be.” His voice had grown wistful.
“When did you finally…?” I let my voice trail off.
“Not till I was in college. I lived at home … I intentionally went to Lenoir-Rhyne so I could stay home. My parents thought it was so I could help out at the factory. Learn the business. But it was about Honor. It was always about Honor.” He stopped speaking for a moment, sounding choked up, and I wondered what he was seeing in his imagination. I was surprised that I didn’t feel anger toward him as I listened. I thought I should. I wanted to. But instead, I felt sympathy for him.
“She was still in high school,” he continued. “Her senior year. Still living in the cottage with Adora. My father had built that room at the factory for nights when he needed to work late. It wasn’t as nice as it is now. Just a bed and a couch back then. But I had a key to the factory and Honor would tell Adora she was going to a friend’s, and we’d meet there. It was fine until Butchie was conceived. That’s when reality hit us hard and we knew we had to find a way to explain her having a baby. She’d known Del since they were kids and he was only too happy to act like the baby was his.” Henry laughed softly. “Shocked everybody who knew him, that’s for sure. Everyone suspected Del was queer from the time he was a little boy.” He was quiet for a long moment, and I waited. “It’s been hard, Tess,” he said finally. “Hard and bittersweet. I know you don’t approve of colored and white together. I know Gaston and Loretta’s situation bothered you, but I can’t help how I feel about her. And I love our children. The money in the armoire? It’s for them. I had to sneak around to visit my own son and daughter, not to mention the woman I love. You know what would have happened to us if we’d ever been found out. What would still happen. Prison for who knows how long. I would lose the factory. I’d lose everything. Butchie and Jilly—Jilly, now—would be ostracized.” He shifted on the bed. “I know you think you’re trapped, Tess,” he said. “But I’ve been trapped my whole adult life.”
I was quiet. For the first time, I had a real window into my husband’s world. I tried to imagine what it had been like for him and Honor all those years. What it was still like.
“What did she say when you told her you’d gotten another woman pregnant?” I asked.
He groaned. “She was furious, of course,” he said. “I’d never done anything like that before. Never had relations with another woman. I’m not much of a drinker—you know that by now. And that fellow Roger kept the alcohol coming. It’s no excuse…” He rubbed his chin with his good right hand. “I was so disgusted with myself about it—so hard on myself—that eventually Honor forgave me.” He looked over at me. I could just make out his eyes in the darkness. “She was grateful to you for the way you helped her when Jilly was sick,” he said. “And she felt guilty about it, but her need to be close to Jilly trumped her guilt about keeping you in the dark. I hope you can understand that.”
“Yes,” I said. I really could. I’d seen her as a mother, nothing more or less than that. The sort of devoted mother I would have been if only I’d been given the chance.
“She’s frightened right now, not knowing what you’ll do,” he said. “Frankly, so am I.”
I hesitated, once again feeling Honor and Henry’s future in my hands. I could so easily hurt them. Devastate them. But I knew I never would. “Tell her she’s safe,” I said finally. “I wouldn’t hurt you that way. I wouldn’t hurt either of you.”
He let out his breath. “Thank you.”
“Did you think about doing what Gaston did?” I asked. “Moving to Washington State or someplace where you could legally marry?”
“Yes, I’ve thought of it,” he said, “but Adora is here, and Zeke and my mother. And our friends and my family’s factory.” He sighed. “It’s not fair.”
I’d thought his friend Gaston had been foolish for falling in love with a colored girl in the first place. Hearing about Henry and Honor though … They couldn’t put a stop to those feelings any more than Vincent and I could.
“Your story reminds me of mine with Vincent,” I said. “We started out as kids together. Just friends. Then it turned into something more. Much more. Only we never had to hide our feelings. I can’t imagine what that was like.”
“Until now,” he said softly. “You never had to hide your feelings for Vincent until now.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “Until now.” I thought about the conversation we were having. One of those deep conversations that touched those places we kept hidden from other people. Even from ourselves. For the first time, Henry and I were vulnerable with each other. For the first time, listening and sharing, I felt something close to love for him.
“You can see him,” Henry said. “Your Vincent. You can have an affair with him. I won’t try to stop you.”
“That’s not what I want, Henry,” I said. “I want a full life with a husband who loves me. I want children. I want a divorce. And I don’t want to have to separate for two years before we get it. I want it now.” My voice was calm but firm. “Which means we divorce on the basis of your adultery. We can fabricate a woman you’ve been seeing. You don’t have to admit to it being Honor. But unless you want to admit to impotence or homosexuality or bestiality, it has to be adultery. They’re the only grounds we can use to get a divorce.”