Read Blessed Assurance Online

Authors: Lyn Cote

Blessed Assurance (7 page)

 

At long last, the minister concluded his sermon. After two hours of obeying her stepfather's strictures, Jessie felt choked. Any longer and she wouldn't have been able to breathe. Jessie followed her mother down the crowded church aisle, and down the stone steps. She had smiled mechanically to everyone who greeted her, but it was a deceiving mask and she hated it.

Shielded from the noonday sun by their white parasols, Jessie and her mother strolled home, side by side, smiling. Mother rarely smiled when her husband was near. A day in her stepfather's galling company had to be endured as the only way to have her mother with her at Linc's eighth birthday.

In honor of the day, Jessie had put off her “blacks” and worn her more festive dove gray with ivory white lace collar tatted by Margaret. As she and her mother ascended the steps of Wagstaff house, her stepfather hurried forward to open the door for them. Jessie looked away from him as they folded their parasols and stepped inside.

“I smell fried chicken,” Mother said.

“Yes, Susan stayed home from church to cook—”

“That's her job, isn't it?” Her stepfather hung his hat on the hall tree.

Jessie swallowed a stinging retort.
I won't give you any opportunity to leave early, stepfather. Mother and I are going to enjoy this day—come what may.

While her half brothers, Tim and Tom, followed their father's sedate example, Linc ran ahead toward the kitchen. Her stepfather shook his head over Linc's lapse of decorum. Pointedly ignoring the man, Jessie walked with her mother toward the parlor.

“Good morning, Esther,” Miss Wright's voice from the parlor greeted Jessie's mother, one of her former pupils.

Mother entered the sunny room and pressed her hand into the old woman's. “It is so good to see you, ma'am, especially on such a happy day.”

“Yes, it is hard to believe the little scamp can really be eight to
day. I was remembering Margaret's delight at receiving God's gifts of a son, then a grandson. I've been enjoying memories all morning. Margaret and I were girls together, you know.”

The spinster's mellow mood surprised Jessie, but Will's mother had been the old woman's best, nearly her only friend. “I must check on dinner,” Jessie murmured and rustled down the hall through the kitchen curtain.

“I heard y'all come in.” Susan lifted the black iron skillet's lid to pierce the sizzling chicken with a large fork, checking its doneness.

“Everything smells delicious. What can I help with?” Jessie reached for her apron.

“You put that apron back,” Susan ordered. “Everything's done and this is your day to celebrate. Now get out of this hot kitchen!” Susan matched her words by waving her hands toward Jessie, shooing her.

Jessie chuckled. “Where did Linc disappear to?”

“He went out to water that pup Mr. Smith brought him yesterday. I'll send Linc back to the parlor when his hands is all wash again.”

Nodding, Jessie returned to the parlor to sit beside her mother, deep in conversation with Miss Wright. From under her lashes she observed her stepfather's keen gaze looking for dust.

A complacent smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She'd left no dust anywhere and her floors shone like crystal. Her back and arm muscles still ached from a day spent cleaning and polishing. Nothing her stepfather could say now or later would spoil this day for her mother, Linc, and herself.

A knock sounded on the front door. Jessie rose to open it. She found Mr. Smith standing on the front porch with a bouquet of pink and white carnations.

“For my hostess.” He laid them into her arms.

A tingle of exhilaration robbed her of speech. She fingered the slender petals of one carnation. “Thank you. I can't remember when I last received flowers.” She felt herself blushing.

Footsteps on the porch. Jessie stepped farther inside and motioned Dr. Gooden in. He held out a bouquet of pink roses to her.

She felt an instant restraint or maybe it was tension, between the two men. She couldn't think why that should be. But the experience of holding two bouquets from two different men struck her speechless for a moment. Then she scolded herself for being silly. Of course, being polite, they would bring hostess gifts to her. Suddenly she recalled her stepfather sat only a few feet away from her. That made her stiffen. “Please come in.”

At her request the two gentlemen hung their hats on the hall tree and followed her to the parlor. She introduced them as “Lincoln's friends” to her parents, “Mr. and Mrs. Hiram Huff.” Under her stepfather's scrutiny, Jessie held her flowers casually. “I'll have to find a vase for these,” she murmured.

Sensing Jessie's insecurity, Lee diverted attention from her. “Where's the birthday lad?”

“He's out back watering Butch,” Jessie said.

“Butch?” Huff repeated.

The man's negative tone instantly put Lee on guard. Lee watched the way Jessie took a deep breath and composed her mouth into a forced smile. He couldn't recall Jessie ever behaving so unnaturally before.

“Butch is the puppy Mr. Smith gave Linc for his birthday,” Dr. Gooden said approvingly. “A fine pup.”

Lee glanced at the doctor, surprised at his support.

“A dog,” Huff blustered.

One of the twins asked in obvious awe, “Linc got a dog?”

“Children,” Huff barked at his son who flushed a deep red, “are to be seen and not heard.” He glared at Jessie. “You have heard me say time after time, town dogs are just a nuisance. He'll dig up your yard, draw flies, and infest your house with fleas. What will your boarders say to that?”

“Butch
isn't
a house dog,” Miss Wright spoke up.

Lee could hardly believe his ears.
I didn't know the old woman had it in her.
Lee eyed Huff with distaste. “That's correct. Linc and I built a doghouse together for him, sir.”

Dr. Gooden nodded and added, “Linc promised to walk him each
morning and each evening. I told him he must keep Butch tied up and wet him down in the hot afternoons.”

Reluctantly Lee gave the doctor an imperceptible nod of thanks. The stepfather choked back his ire with evident displeasure. He might bully the women, but how could he argue with two men who approved of the pet?
Linc is going to have his dog whether you like it or not.

“Mr. Smith, it's very good of you to take time for Lincoln,” Jessie's mother said quietly.

“My pleasure, ma'am.”

“Mother!” Linc burst into the sunny room, hugging a small brown-and-white pup. “Everyone's in the backyard! Come on!”

As Huff lunged toward the boy, Lee moved forward protectively. When his mother didn't move, Linc grabbed her hand and pulled her through the hall and kitchen.

Lee, followed by Dr. Gooden, had to nearly run to keep up with them. The four of them came to a halt on the back porch, next to Susan who stood stock still on the top step, transfixed.

A dozen of the black community had gathered in Jessie's backyard. Lee recognized these friends of Susan's whom he had seen come and go through Jessie's back door. In their midst, Lee picked out the face of the bent old but untroubled preacher who had called on Susan just the week before. Beside him stood a very round, short woman with gray hair, peeking out from under a calico turban. The old woman's clothes were faded, tattered and her wide feet were bare.

Suddenly Susan came out of her shock and shrieked, “Ruby! Grandma Ruby!” As the girl raced down the steps, the old woman tottered forward. Susan threw herself into those open arms. “Grandma Ruby, I never thought I'd see you again! You're alive!”

“I been lookin' these last five years for you, my honey.” Ruby rocked Susan back and forth in her arms as though the young woman was just a child once more. “I walk miles and miles and ask a thousand people 'n' more—where be my girl, my onliest girl? Praise God!” Ruby burst into tears.

Lee felt his throat thicken. A homecoming. A reunion.

Jessie stood like a statue pressing both bouquets to her breast. She must have felt Lee's attention on her because she looked up at him. She murmured, “Susan was sold away from her only relative, her grandmother, when she was only thirteen.”

He acknowledged her explanation with a subdued nod.

Dr. Gooden cleared his throat. “It is hard to believe that the Emancipation Proclamation is only signed eight years ago.”

Lee nodded soberly, watching the two women cling to each other, kissing, weeping, and laughing.

Jessie hurried down the steps straight to the two women. Susan, her face ashine with laughter and tears, turned her grandmother toward Jessie. Without waiting for a word of introduction, Jessie gave the bouquets to the old woman and threw her arms around her. “Welcome.”

From behind Lee, Huff's outraged voice snapped, “What is all this commotion?”

Lee glanced coolly over at him.

But Dr. Gooden answered, “Susan is reunited with her long-lost grandmother.”

“That is all good and well, but the girl could go to her in their neighborhood. These people have no business here.” He clattered down the steps, headed straight for Jessie.

Lee couldn't help but smile. He often didn't like Jessie's determined ways, but she wouldn't tolerate this man ruining Susan's reunion. He followed Huff at a discreet distance.
I wouldn't miss this for the world
.

Keeping pace with Lee, Dr. Gooden leaned to speak close to Lee's ear, “That man doesn't know his stepdaughter very well, does he?”

“So it seems,” Lee replied with a wicked grin.

Huff's voice boomed over the backyard, “Jessie, these people don't belong here!”

Jessie replied, “Stepfather, this doesn't concern you. Won't you return to the parlor?”

Huff stopped directly in front of her. “These people must leave. What will the neighbors think?”

Lee watched Jessie lift her chin.
Now the sparks will fly.

“This is no concern of my neighbors or of yours.”

Lee suppressed a grin at the honed steel in Jessie's tone.

Hat in hand, the Reverend began edging away, “We'll be leaving then, Mrs. Wagstaff. We didn't come to cause friction. When we learned it was Susan our sister Ruby was searching for, we just couldn't wait; we had to bring them together.”

Jessie put out her hand to forestall him. “There is no reason for you to leave on this happy occasion. Susan has made enough fried chicken and cake to feed an army. You can celebrate Susan and her grandmother's reunion in my backyard while we celebrate Linc's birthday in the dining room.” Jessie touched Susan's arm.

Lee said to himself,
That makes sense, Jessie, but Huff won't buy it.

“But, Mrs. Wagstaff—” Susan began.

“Jessie.” Her stepfather grasped Jessie's arm. “This will not do. Your neighbors will be appalled. Susan can visit her grandmother when she has her day off.”

Lee couldn't wait to hear Jessie's reply.

Jessie pulled away from Huff's grip. In a deceptively soft tone, she said, “You are not the master here.”

Lee read the despair on Mrs. Huff's face as she stood beside her young sons and Miss Wright. She hurried down the back steps. White-faced, she opened her mouth.

Her husband silenced her, “We are leaving, Esther. Your stubborn daughter is making a spectacle of herself and I won't subject you and our sons to such goings-on.”

“Goings-on?” Lee heard himself say. “She just wants Susan's friends to eat cake in her backyard.”

Huff reached for his wife's arm. She pulled back, eluding his grasp. “Please, Hiram,” she pleaded.

The anguish in the woman's voice sliced through Lee like a scalpel.

“Esther, we're leaving.”

The woman hesitated, visibly torn. Giving in to tears, she covered her mouth with the back of her hand. She stepped in front of Linc, who still clutched his pup, and dropped to her knees on the dried-up grass. She pulled him to her, hugging him.

“Esther,” her husband insisted.

Lee fought the urge to confront Huff, the hard-hearted jerk. Lee's hands curled into fists.

With a smothered sob, Jessie's mother tore herself away from Linc. She rushed past her husband. When she reached her sons, she took each by the hand and hurried them into the house. Without a backward glance, Huff marched after her. From her place on the porch, Miss Wright huffed her displeasure and turned away, too.

Lee burned with outrage for Jessie. Lee imagined the satisfaction of his right fist connecting with the holier-than-thou's jaw.

“Mrs. Wagstaff,” Reverend Mitchell said, “we didn't mean to cause a break between you and your mother—”

“You didn't.” She lifted her chin. “She made her choice years ago when she married Hiram Huff.” Then she smiled, a tight, a pitiful smile. “Frankly, Reverend, I prefer your company. Come, Susan, bring your grandmother up into the shade of the porch.”

Touched by Jessie's brave front, Lee stood with his hand on Linc's shoulder. As Jessie passed him, she asked, “Are you staying, then, Mr. Smith?”

He made his voice match hers in bravado, “Ma'am, the mere thought of Susan's fried chicken makes my mouth water.”

“Dr. Gooden?” She paused in front of him.

He bowed. “I can only echo Mr. Smith.”

She smiled at both of them. “Come. I'll need your help.”

“Mother, why doesn't step-grandfather like us?” Linc struggled, but his puppy finally wiggled out of his grasp.

Jessie bent and kissed her son's forehead. “It isn't our fault, son. He doesn't like very many people.”

And I imagine very few really like him,
Lee commented inwardly.

“Mother can I…may I,” Linc amended, “get out of my Sunday clothes?”

“Lincoln, just because we won't be eating in the dining…” she stopped. “I'm sorry, Linc. Of course, you can…
may.”

Linc ran to the house with a “Whoop!”

Jessie murmured, “I hate it when I start to sound like
that man
.”

“Your stepfather is of a strong temperament. It is hard to overlook.” Dr. Gooden smiled wryly.

Jessie grinned. “How perceptive. And you just met him today.”

“I'd say, he's a man who's easy to know, and hard to avoid,” Lee added.

This forced a chuckle from her.

Pleased, Lee followed her up to the porch.

She called out, “Caleb, Ben, will you come in and carry out the kitchen table. Dinner is ready.”

Lee along with the other men brought out the kitchen table, chairs, napkins, plates, and silver. His appetite awoke as women arranged bowls of creamy mashed potatoes, yellow corn bread, and platters of golden fried chicken on the long table with its white oilcloth. The fragrance of butter and the chicken did indeed make his mouth water. Throughout the bustle, the pup he'd given Linc yapped excitedly, nipping at the men's pant legs and racing back and forth under the women's wide skirts.

When all was in place, Reverend Mitchell took off his hat and bowed his head. Lee noticed Susan reach for her grandmother's hand and something deep inside him ached for a similar touch. His eyes automatically sought out Jessie. Their gazes met over Linc's
blond head. When Dr. Gooden edged closer to Jessie, Lee felt a grinding inside.

The pastor cleared his throat. “Father, we know it was Thee who brought Susan and Ruby together once more. Give Mrs. Wagstaff and her son back the kindness that they show us each day, pressed down and overflowing in abundance. Thank Thee for Lincoln on this day of his birth and for this dinner and the hands that lovingly prepared it. In Christ's name, Amen.”

Immediately excited chatter and laughter broke out as the buffet line formed, but everyone stood back waiting for someone to go first.

Then Linc, pulling Lee along with him, headed to the table. This brought chuckles. When Jessie shook her head at the boy, Lee held his hands out in a gesture of helplessness.

“It is the boy's birthday, Mrs. Wagstaff,” Dr. Gooden said.

Then Lee offered Jessie a plate and urged her to follow her son. For once, she did not balk at a suggestion of his. But when she drew Dr. Gooden with her in line, Lee averted his gaze. When Lee served himself, he complimented Susan who stood behind him, “You've outdone yourself.”

Susan smiled. “I didn't know when I was cookin', I was cooking for my grandma.” She wiped away fresh tears.

Soon the picnickers, except for the elderly who had accepted kitchen chairs, were sitting on the grass in the slender shade cast by the shed and porch. Though Jessie had invited Susan and Ruby to sit on the porch, they observed a decorous separation of races by positioning their chairs on the lawn, just inside the shadow of the porch. Jessie, Linc, Lee and the doctor were the only ones who sat on chairs on the porch.

Lee wondered if Jessie realized that her black friends did this to protect her. Did she realize the backlash she might reap if she continued to flout the standard separation between the races?

After dinner, Linc blew out the candles on his cake. Lee, like everyone else, settled back comfortably, Lee tilting his head back, as he looked up into the clear, blue sky. Life is good again, his heart
whispered. He savored Jessie's words to Huff: “You are not the master here.” How delightful to witness Jessie's routing of the hypocrite! Smiling, he turned to her.

The doctor was speaking close to Jessie's ear and she was smiling. The sight triggered the grinding feeling again. This time he identified it—jealousy.
What's happening to me? I can't be jealous of Jessie and the good doctor. He's just the kind who'd make her a good husband.
But Lee squirmed at the thought.

Ruby spoke up, “This surely be the best day of my life. Till I find my girl, my onliest girl, I never enjoy my freedom.” Ruby leaned over and kissed Susan's cheek. Susan gave way to tears again, hugging Ruby. Lee noticed Jessie dab her eyes. He edged his chair closer to her and whispered, “I wish your mother could be here.”

“My stepfather has always forced her to choose him over me,” she whispered back.

“A shame.”

She turned away from him, raising her voice, “He's a shame to all Christians.”

Lee admitted to himself he admired Jessie Wagstaff. She might be bossy, but when an issue of right and wrong was concerned, she was unmoved by criticism. Since the war, she had become more determined to fight for her ideals while he had deserted his altogether. Unfortunately, this might put her in harm's way.

His good humor ebbed.

Susan and her friends began to hum and sing, “O, happy day when Jesus washed my sins away. O, happy day…”

After his years in the South, Lee was familiar with this spiritual—“O, happy day…” He hummed along, feeling the joy in the words, their balm pouring through him like the bright, hot sunshine around them all. Glancing toward Jessie, he saw her lean closer to Dr. Gooden again. Lee strained to hear her words.

“Doctor, if it were a matter of life or death, would you come—if I needed your help?”

Dr. Gooden looked around him solemnly. “If it is life or death, I will come.”

Lee sat back in surprise. Dr. Gooden had unexpected depths.

As the song ended, Ruby sighed. “Rev'rund, today I want to hear the song we couldn't sing.”

Without hesitation, Caleb stood up, tall and straight, his dark, handsome face fiercely proud. “I was born free, but I sing this song for the day when we'll all be really free.”

The way Caleb Mitchell said the words “really free” made Lee certain the man wasn't alluding to heaven. And Lee knew only one spiritual had been forbidden in the South before the war.

Caleb sang: “When Israel was in Egypt's land, Let my people go! Oppressed so hard they could not stand. Let my people go!

“No more in bondage shall they toil, Let my people go! Let them come out with Egypt's spoil, Let my people go!” The low tones of Caleb's voice vibrated through Lee's bones and sinew and the stark longing in them sobered him.

Then Susan's rich soprano lifted above Caleb's voice in exaltation: “Thus saith the Lord, bold Moses said, Let my people go! If not, I'll smite your first-born dead, Let my people go!” A shiver sliced through Lee.

As the people around joined in the final chorus, a long repressed sadness, longing, and defeat surged through Lee. “When Israel was in Egypt's land, Let my people go! Oppressed so hard they could not stand. Let my people go!” The final notes, Caleb's and Susan's, reverberated in total silence. Lee felt himself near tears and couldn't think why. Slavery had ended. The war was in the past.

Linc leaned back against Lee's leg as though seeking comfort. Lee reached down and ruffled Linc's hair.

“Uh-oh,” Linc murmured a warning.

Lee followed the direction of the lad's gaze. A tall, angular woman came from the house on the other side of Jessie's home.

Jessie rose and went to meet her neighbor. “Mrs. O'Toole, how nice. You're just in time for a piece of birthday cake.”

“It's not for the cake I'm here,” the woman snapped. “You send these people home. They don't belong here.” She crossed her arms over her meager bosom.

Lee knew Jessie would never back down.

Jessie stood straight. “These people are
my
guests on
my
property—”

“This is outrageous. 'Tis bad enough you've hired a black girl instead of my niece an honest Irish girl—”

“Mrs. O'Toole, I think it's time you went home.”

Lee shivered at Jessie's tone. He had heard captured Rebel soldiers reply to Union officers in warmer tones. The tall woman stalked away.

Linc let the pup go. Butch charged after the woman yapping and growling at the intruder. Linc paused a moment; then chasing after the dog, he snatched up Butch just as he was about to follow Mrs. O'Toole through her gate. Linc ran back to his mother.

When the dog quieted, Dr. Gooden patted Linc on the shoulder. “Happy birthday again.” He pressed a silver dollar into the boy's hand.

Linc shouted, “Thank you, sir!”

The doctor grinned. “I will show myself out, Mrs. Wagstaff.”

“Thank you for coming,” Jessie said as the doctor bowed over her hand in farewell. He nodded to Lee and walked toward the front of the house.

The doctor's departure seemed to signal an end of the celebration. The men pulled on their black hats. The women shook out their full skirts and straightened their hat pins.

“Please don't go,” Jessie implored. Her words were cut off by the arrival of three mounted police. She gasped.

Lee stepped forward to intercept them, protect her. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. What can we do for you?”

The oldest of the three officers swung down from his saddle. “We received a report of a black mob—”

“Mob?” Jessie repeated the word incredulously. “Does this look like a mob?”

Shaking his head at her to be still, Lee stepped closer to the officer. “It seems you received a false alarm.”

“Appears so, but—”

The preacher approached them. “Begging your pardon, officer, but did you mention a rumor of about a black mob?”

Lee felt as uneasy as the black pastor sounded.

“I'm afraid so,” the policeman replied. He gave the preacher a meaningful look. “You know how rumors—”

“Spread,” Lee finished.

“Would you escort us home, officer?” the pastor asked.

“What?” Jessie objected.

“Jessie,” Lee restrained her with a hand on her arm. “You don't understand.”

His face stormy, Caleb spoke up, “Mrs. Wagstaff, what he means is if a rumor about a Negro mob spreads, our people could be in danger not just here but all over the city.”

Reverend Mitchell intervened, “But if these policemen will give us escort home, the rumor will be blunted.”

“He's right, Jessie. Matters could get out of hand in no time. You don't want people hurt.” Memories from the past flared inside Lee. He'd seen what evil men were capable of.

“Susan.” Jessie turned and took both Ruby's hands in hers. “Ruby will stay here with us.”

Susan protested, “But what about the neighbors?”

“She stays, Susan.” Jessie looked to Lee. “Are you deserting us, too, Mr. Smith?”

Challenged, Lee found he couldn't disappoint the appeal in Jessie's imploring gaze, especially when Linc also looked up at him hopefully. “I'll walk the Reverend's congregation home.” The phrase came out before he could hold it back.

Jessie reached for his hand. “Thank you, Lee.”

She'd touched him and called him by his given name for the first time since he arrived on her back porch. A fierce protectiveness stirred in him for this woman and her son. Words from deep inside him bubbled up, “Don't worry, Jess. Everything will be all right.”

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