The Wilful Daughter (32 page)

“
Then I started getting sick and I had to stay in bed. At first he’d stay with me all the time. He cried that he was sorry. That he wanted me, us, to have our own baby, but he had so little to offer that he didn’t want to mess up the relationship with our family.” She paused. “Then one night it was all over.”

There was nothing more to say. June sat and watched as her sister went back to her cooking. “I’ll have to start a new pot of potatoes, June. These are all ruined. Your lunch will be a little late.” June nodded unable to find any words.

For June it was an extremely long day. She grew agitated as she watched her sister and brother-in-law try not to offend each other. Right after supper June begged their pardon as they sat on the porch and went to bed early, not knowing what to do but wanting desperately to be alone.

So this was what marriage was like. Men giving orders like papa, like Peter. Women cooking and cleaning and doing what they could to please their man. She couldn’t think of one thing, of anything, that Peter had done to please Minnelsa. He had married her for her money. How was that supposed to please her?

Softly in the night the sound came, the sound of voices indulged in polite conversation.

“
How long will she stay?”

“
I don’t know. I thought you said it was all right.”

“
Of course it’s all right. But should she stay so near to her time?”

“
Why can’t she have the baby here if she wants, if we’re going to keep it as our own?”

“
I guess I thought it would be better if she had it over there and we went and got it. Brought it back here without anyone knowing.”

“
Knowing what? That my widowed baby sister is pregnant?”

“
She isn’t a widow. It’s a story your father made up. . .”

“
Then if papa made it up we have to stick to it, don’t we Peter? We have to do everything papa says or we’ll be left with nothing.”

Silence; deep cricket, frog filled silence. Thunder off in a distance. A storm brewing. Lots of storms brewing.

“
Minnelsa, I love you.”

Silence. Thank God.

Thunder off in the distance. Ten counts between claps. It was getting closer. Nine counts the next time.

“
I did this, all of this to make us happy.”

Silence then thunder. The beginning of the falling rain lulled June off to sleep.

She awoke the next morning smelling coffee and eggs. She felt a kick in her belly and rubbed it. “There, there, we’re going to go eat,” she said as she went to wash in the basin for breakfast.

Peter was sitting at the table looking as handsome as ever. He got up and pulled out a chair for June. She missed these manners at Ella and Fannie’s. The men were so busy getting their mouths full they barely said thank you to the women that cooked. June nodded her thanks and began to eat as Minnelsa sat down across from her.

“
I’m going to church this morning,” Peter said neatly wiping his lips and folding his napkin on to his lap. “Would you like to come? There’s a wonderful choir. . .”

“
I think I’d just like to stay here and rest and be with my sister. We have a lot to talk about and catch up on. Unless, of course, Minnelsa wants to go.”

“
I haven’t been back to that church since. . . I guess God doesn’t have time to answer everyone’s prayers.”

June could see the tears welling up in her sister’s eyes and she wasn’t sure if she could handle another day like yesterday. Minnelsa moaning and crying and losing her mind instead of cooking and doing her daily routine. So June amiably changed the subject.

“
I was hoping,” she said looking dead at Minnelsa and ignoring whatever might come out of Peter’s mouth, “that you might let me name the baby before she comes to live with you.”

“
She?” Peter seemed shocked. “You know it’s a girl?”

“
Yes,” June turned to him. “I was told by an expert. An old lady that’s never been wrong. She pointed at my belly and said it was a girl.”

“
Now how would she know that?” Peter smiled for the first time since she had come to visit and she was almost lost. This is what she remembered so well about him: his glorious, perfect smile.

She almost frowned for she knew he was smiling about his baby. His baby in her. Not his wife.

“
You have been away from your people too long, Peter,” Minnelsa explained. “There are so many ways to tell what a woman is carrying. None of them one hundred per cent fool proof, but there are many. Like how high or how low you’re carrying. Some of the foods you crave. Some people even take a wedding band and hold it over your belly. If the ring on a string turns one way it’s a boy. Another way it’s a girl.”

He nodded with interest.

“
What do you want to name the baby?” June smiled for this was the first time Minnelsa seemed a bit interested in something and not so blue.

“
I was hoping you wouldn’t mind naming her Ophelia from that Shakespeare play that Brother liked so much.”

Peter looked at Minnelsa and took her hand. He squeezed it and got a tiny smile. “Ophelia, Baby Ophelia or Little Ophelia.”

“
And if it’s a boy?” Peter said.

“
But it’s going to be a girl, Peter,” Minnelsa grinned at him.

“
But it may not be.” He looked to June. “Old women can be wrong, you know.”

Minnelsa frowned and pulled her hand away from his. Peter threw both of his up in the air. “It is a possibility, June and Minnelsa, that this baby could be a boy.”

Minnelsa was going to speak, probably going to argue, but June interceded. “If it is a boy I don’t care what he’s called as long as he’s not named after papa or you.”

They both looked at her in shock. June turned to Minnelsa: “You should name your first son after your husband, Minnelsa.”

“
I’ll treat your baby as my own, June.”

“
I know that. But it won’t be the same as having one of your own. That’s what you both want, isn’t it? A child, a son of your own? I made a mistake and you’re going to have to pay for it, but that shouldn’t stop you from having a family and children of your own.”

Minnelsa smiled at her sister and Peter nodded. It was right and fair he said. He kissed Minnelsa and was off to church.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The rest of them never expected her to return, but Millie did. So when she arrived without warning that next Saturday morning Millie ran screaming: “June! June! I knew you’d come back.” She hugged June’s belly so hard the older women thought they both might fall.

“
I missed you too, Millie.” June kissed her smooth cocoa brown cheek. Her hair was in two neat pigtails.

“
See, I kept it just like you told me. I brush it every morning and every night. I did just like you told me, June.”

June smiled and looked at the reluctant smiles of the women on the porch. Cora walked back into the house deciding this was more family business than her business. Mattie said: “Glad you back, Little Mama,” and headed to the field with a basket of food. Ella and Fannie said nothing at first, while Peter got June’s suitcase from the back of the car and Minnelsa stood hesitantly on the porch stoop afraid to go in. Her purse in her gloved hands, sweat rolling from beneath her hat, Ella could see she was more nervous than hot.

“
Come give me a kiss, Miss Married Lady,” Ella said and stretched out her arms. Minnelsa accepted the hug willingly. “Now come and sit out here and talk to us”"

Peter was standing in the doorway. “You look just like a professor I once knew, Peter.” Fannie came over to and slipped her arm into his. “Come in the house. I got a treat for you.”

“
We can’t stay long, we need to get back before I have choir rehearsal tonight.” His voice was too calm. Fannie didn’t like the sound of that so she kept on talking.

“
This ain’t gonna take but a minute. You gonna like this.” Obediently Peter escorted her into the house. Out the corner of his eye he saw June sitting on the steps twitching her toes in the dirt. He couldn’t wait to get away from her even though she had avoided him as much as possible the days she visited. Minnelsa may have needed some support but it should have been one of the old ladies. Not June. She still took his breath away and he no longer needed that. Why hadn’t she stayed here in the first place?

The giant house was still a monstrosity to him, although he would never tell the gracious old women that. The big parlor room, fashioned after some antiquated ballroom, was so overstuffed with furniture that he likened it to a train station waiting room for colored he had once seen. A hodge-podge of shapes and sizes without any aesthetic center. But something about the room had changed. The furniture had been moved around. Someone had had the good sense to take out one of the over-stuffed davenports and some of the many tables that seemed to be thrown here and there like so many flowers growing wild in a field.

“
Look what we got.” Fannie pointed to a huge piano. A Steinway. He hadn’t seen one like this since he left New York. These, he knew, were very expensive.

He walked to it and touched it. The wood was exquisite. He was not sure what type but it was shined to perfection. Not the least bit greasy. He lifted the top. Inside was just as clean. He stood the lid up.

The Piano Man uncovered the keys. The ivory jumped out at him in its chilling whiteness. This was the most perfect piano he had ever seen.

Here, in the country, so far from what he considered real civilization, how could it be maintained? Reluctantly he touched middle C. The note was perfect. He played a major chord. The pitch was excellent. He played another and another until he finally sat down.

“
Where did you get this?” he asked the small woman.

“
White school over in Lamston they was closing. See, most of the children round here, white children down here that’s got money, go to schools in Montgomery or even up north. When the old man that ran the school died, they had this auction. Didn’t nobody want this thing- said it was too big. Pretentious the word they used. The new owner didn’t want most of the stuff so he gets my boys to haul it away. Most of the stuff we get from places like that goes to the homes of people round here. Shoot, they ain’t got no money for furniture. The rest I try to keep. When someone new moves in town, got no furniture and trying to set up housekeeping, I tell them come on over and look in my parlor. Pick out what you need.”

So, Peter thought, that’s why the place looked so cluttered. “But when me and the boys saw this we was careful to get it back here in one piece. Best piece of trash I ever picked up.” She laughed and Peter played a bit then looked at her.

“
They didn’t use this to teach, did they? I mean, the condition is excellent.”

Fannie sat across from him in one of the big chairs. “No, no way. Was in the old man’s quarters. His personal things. Play something for us Peter. Play something ain’t juke joint music and ain’t church music. I hear you can play any music real good.”

* * *

Out on the porch the women sat and listened to the Piano Man play.

“
That sure is nice. Minnelsa, he plays so pretty. That’s what he did for a living in New York?” Ella asked.

“
Yes’m,” she replied. “He played in Europe too. One day he says we’re going back to Europe together. He’s going to show me where he’s been.”

“
Now that would be a nice second honeymoon. Or even a first. Something your papa should have given you for a wedding present.” Fannie sat back on the porch. She had left Peter to the piano.

“
But he gave us so much, Miss Fannie,” she tried to explain. “The house, the car, a piano.”

“
And my baby,” June said from the steps. “Don’t forget that that man in there had not asked you to marry him until. . .”

“
June, please,” Ella said. “Now you got your reasons for how you feel and that’s fine. They be yours. But your sister is trying to start off a marriage and it’s starting off the wrong way. Sure it was good of her to volunteer to raise your child, to keep it in the family. But she’s got a life of her own. And,” Ella took Minnelsa’s hand, “losing your own baby is hard enough without realizing that you got to raise somebody else’s.”

“
It’s fine, Aunt Ella,” Minnelsa said. “I’m glad I can help June out.”

“
That’s all well and good child,” Fannie interjected sitting on the other side of her, touching her other gloved hand. “But there is something you got to think of. You and your husband, you need to be happy. You got to find out what makes you happy. What makes him happy. Do you know? Have you ever thought about it?”

Peter was playing so beautifully, it didn’t take much for Minnelsa to say: “I know playing makes him happy. He likes teaching but not as much as playing.”

“
Then maybe he shouldn’t be a teacher.” Ella said. “Maybe he should be one of those musicians. . .”

“
Not those that travel on the road all the time and play in juke joints.” Minnelsa seemed appalled and June covered the grin on her face. If you only knew, my sister, she thought.

“
Of course not, child,” Fannie laughed. “Listen at that man play. He’s got more music in him than any of those characters that shows up and plays for they supper ‘round here. No, I mean maybe he should go back to New York, maybe Europe.”