The Governor's Sons (44 page)

“I know.”

“It just wouldn’t be right.
 
Everything I said to Leigh Ann is true.
 
And besides, I need to focus on the cause—not you.
 
But believe me,” Harland said, “I’d rather focus on you.”
 
JoBeth smiled.
 
“Unfortunately,
  
I have enough enemies as it is, and a white girl by my side would guarantee immediate assassination.
 
And JoBeth—I could never put you in any danger.
 
As much as I want us…”

“I know.
 
I want that too, but--”

“But this isn’t the time.”
 
Harland looked away from her.

“It’s not.”
 
JoBeth held his hand in both of hers.
 
“Harland, my uncle fell in love with a Japanese girl before World War II.
 
Since he wasn’t Japanese, her parents ended their relationship. But they never forgot each other.
 
Then, when she was interned at one of those camps, my uncle relocated out there to be with her.
 
And after the war, they married.
 
That’s when the time was right for them.
 
And they’ve been married ever since.”

“Wow,” Harland said softly, his eyes locking into hers.

“I know.
 
The time isn’t right for us now—but maybe one day—it will be.”

Harland looked deeply at JoBeth.
 
He wanted so badly to kiss her, but he wouldn’t dare.
 
“We can—we can only hope.”
 
Harland found himself getting more uncomfortable by the second.
 
His self imposed celibacy was now pushing things to the limit.
 
She had to leave.
 
“JoBeth, you’d better go.
 
I’ll get Angela to drive you back to the Coroner’s Office.”

“But what about the study?”

“I developed it under false pretenses.
 
I’ll tell your father I’ve decided against it, for now.
 
Time and resources can be better spent elsewhere.
 
But, I’ll let him know how much I appreciated his willingness to let you assist me.”

Harland stood, then extended his hand to help JoBeth to her feet.
 
He gently placed his hands on her shoulders, then said, “Thank you for not being—for listening to me.”

“Harland--you’re welcome.”
 
She tilted her head back and closed her eyes.

While gazing at her flawless ivory skin, Harland recognized the spicy fragrance she wore.
 
It was called Tabu, although not spelled t-a-b-o-o.
 
Her lips looked like rose petals.
 
Shimmering blond hair framed her face like a halo.
 
Man, Harland thought, she was too gorgeous and just asking to be kissed.
 
He wanted more than anything to oblige—but then he’d want to rip her clothes off, toss her across his desk and make love to her.

She certainly wasn’t asking for that, so instead he just gave her a brotherly peck on the forehead.
 
When she opened her eyes and smiled, Harland didn’t miss her questioning gaze.

“JoBeth—if I really kiss you—I’m afraid of what’ll happen.
 
Now,” he placed one hand softly on the small of her back steering her toward the door, “it’s time for Angela to take you back to work.”

Leigh Ann lay in bed holding a cold compress firmly against her forehead.
 
Her hair hung limply past her shoulders.
 
Because of crying, dark circles of mascara outlined her eyes.
 
Leigh Ann’s face, a once perfect canvas of cosmetics, was now smudged and ruined.
 
Tears and perspiration had partially washed it away, leaving behind a distorted abstract.

Reclining in culottes with
The Negro and Urban Change
pressed closely to her side, Leigh Ann had read fifty pages but couldn’t read any more.
 
Her head pounded and she felt nauseated.
 
Symptoms of unrequited love; and the consequence of making a fool of one’s self in the presence of said unrequited love object.

“May I come in?”
 
JoBeth knocked lightly on the door.”

“Sure,” Leigh Ann called.

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

“I—uh—I saw Harland Hall.”
 
 
JoBeth sat at the foot of the bed.

Leigh Ann stiffened.
  
Her lower lip trembled.
 
“You did?
 
Where?”

“It doesn’t matter where, but—”

“It matters to me!”

“I—saw him at the Coroner’s Office.”

“Why was he there?”

“Leigh Ann, I feel like I’m being interrogated.”

“You are!”

“He needed some information for a research study or something.
 
But—Leigh Ann—he told me that you came to see him today.”

Leigh Ann took a deep breath.
 
“That’s right.”
 
She felt her skin flush.
 
From the pressure of her capillaries, she knew her face was bright red.

“And he told me that--after you said you wanted to volunteer, you expressed a--personal interest.”

Leigh Ann jutted out her chin.
 
“And?”

“Harland’s concerned that--”

“When did
you
get on a first name basis with him?”
 
Leigh Ann noticed JoBeth’s cheeks turn pink.

“I—I suppose today.”
 
She smiled demurely.
 
“Anyway—he’s concerned that you’ll accuse him of something inappropriate, since he…”

“Since he rejected me?!”

“I told him you wouldn’t, but being a black man and a Civil Rights leader around here—he’s gottta be cautious.
 
And he’s gotta be on his guard all the time.”

Leigh Ann crossed her arms tightly.
 
“I wouldn’t falsely accuse him of anything!
 
 
I can’t believe he’d think that. Now I’m even
more
devastated!”
 
Tears welled in her eyes, then spilled down her cheeks.
 
She wiped them away with her fingertips.
 
“I went to his office, out of the goodness of my heart, to offer my service—full time, as a volunteer.
 
But once I expressed my—personal inclination toward him—he got all insulted!”

“Leigh Ann, you’d be putting him and yourself in danger.
 
He doesn’t want to see either of you get hurt.
 
I know how painful this must be—”

“You
couldn’t
know!”

JoBeth squeezed her sister’s arm and looked her straight in the eye.
 
“Believe me, I do.
 
But Harland has to stay focused on the Civil Rights cause, as well as his safety.
 
I mean, Leigh Ann, think about it.
 
If he were to be seen with a white girl—it would look like he was
asking
to be killed.”

“Well—if he weren’t Harland Hall, do you think—that just because he’s black—it would be wrong to date him?”

JoBeth hesitated.
 
“I think---if two people love each other—they should be together.
 
It’s just that—sometimes circumstances—and timing get in the way.”

“Like with Aunt Mikki and Uncle Heath.”

“Exactly; I was just telling Ha—a—a friend—about their story.
 
So--maybe the time’s not right, not here anyway, for black and white dating—but maybe one day it will be.”

“I don’t think that day is too far off.”
 
Leigh Ann sighed.
 
“You know--you’d at least think Harland would want my help—if nothing else.”

“But, Leigh Ann—you’re beautiful, you’re smart.
 
You’d be too much of a distraction, especially since you told him—how you feel.”

“I was hoping he’d feel the same.
 
And--if I were around him enough, maybe he would.
 
And then, when the time was right—”

“Leigh Ann!”
 
JoBeth’s sweet tone suddenly disappeared.
 
“If you even think about going near him again you’re crazy!
 
Do you want to get him killed?”

****

Polishing furniture was a tedious task, Celesta thought, but not when a titillating conversation could be overheard.
 
In the hallway near Miss Leigh Ann’s room, she’d heard quite an earful.
 
Working for political families was more exciting than watching any T.V. soap opera.
 
And there were times when Celesta actually felt like she was in one, like today.

Why, today there’d been more commotion than she could shake a stick at.
 
And it all started with the FBI searching Mr. Gavin’s room a few hours earlier.
 
While Mr. Gavin sat in the drawing room, guarded by one agent, two others had searched his room. When they’d seen Celesta hovering by the open door, one of them told her they were conducting confidential business, and then shut the door.
 
Confidential your behind! Celesta thought.
 
She wanted to break down that door and knock that young boy upside the head.
 
But Governor Kroth wouldn’t have appreciated that.
 
So instead she stood just six inches from the closed door and tried unsuccessfully to eavesdrop.

When the agents left, she’d seen them carrying a large brown envelope.
 
She strained to hear what they’d said while they walked down the red carpeted hall to the winding stairway.
 
But the only word she could decipher was marijuana.
 
Celesta was still in shock over that.
 
On one occasion she’d asked Mr. Gavin what that funny smell was coming from his room, but he’d claimed it was incense, something young people were into nowadays.

Celesta, still kicking herself for not being on top of things with Mr. Gavin, hoped the Governor wouldn’t be too disappointed.
 
He’d warned her that children of privilege tend to act wilder than ordinary kids.
 
And back when Governor Kroth had first moved in five years ago, he’d asked that she report any covert activities his children tried to get away with.

Although the Governor had asked her to be an extra set of eyes and ears over his kids, she didn’t feel it was her place to search drawers and read diaries, even though she wanted to.
 
And if she’d asked the Governor for permission to do that, he probably would’ve thought she was overstepping her bounds.

Celesta straightened her black uniform as she readied herself for action.
 
What she’d just overheard from Miss Leigh Ann’s room didn’t require a search of any kind.
 
And it didn’t require the CIA or the FBI; just the CBI—the Celesta Bureau of Investigation.
 
The door to Miss Leigh Ann’s bedroom hadn’t latched.
  
And just as Celesta had begun polishing a hall table not far away, the door slipped open wide enough for her to hear every single word.

The girls considered themselves grown now, but they still had a lot of maturing to do.
 
And Celesta still kept watch.
 
The information she had was serious enough to be reported to the Governor.
 
He’d arrived home just a little while ago.
 
She felt like she’d let him down with Mr. Gavin.
 
She wouldn’t let him down twice in the same day.

And besides, Celesta thought on her way to find the Governor, we’ve come a long way as Negroes.
 
The last thing she wanted was to see Harland Hall’s efforts derailed by a rich, misguided do-gooder white girl with a crush on him.

****

“You never told me what type of study Harland wanted to do,” Leigh Ann said, as she and JoBeth continued talking in her bedroom.

“One on Negro infant mortality.
 
He’s interested in statistics comparing white infant deaths to Negro ones.
 
Then he’ll be exploring the care and facilities available to Negroes and how that—”

“I hate to sound cold,” Leigh Ann said, “but he’s a typical politician.
 
The bottom line is—he’s concerned about vote count.
 
Lower Negro infant mortality guarantees an increase of Negro votes.”

“Leigh Ann!”
 

“Oh, c’mon, don’t sound so appalled!
 
It’s always about votes with politicians.
 
Dad was a segregationist, now he’s courting the black vote.”

“Well, if Harland decides to do the study, it’s because he’s concerned about the babies.
 
I can’t believe how jaded you are.”

“It’s only the truth, and—”

“Great Balls of Fire!”
 
Ash yelled down the hall in his office. The girls paused upon hearing him.

Leigh Ann clicked her tongue. “What’s got him all steamed?”