Rose set the Bible down, ran a hand over it and knew she would come back tonight and read the family tree and Psalms too. She had much to be thankful for.
“Please, let’s celebrate Captain Lovell’s health tonight. We’ll eat in here. All of us.”
“Chile you be the silliest thing I ever did see. You know we ain’t tryin’ to be mean, but you cain’t have us in der like ‘at if someone come to the door and see us. The help eatin’ at the table.”
Rose, hands on her hips announced, “Portia you worry too much. Bible says worry is a sin.”
Portia’s eyes grew large. “It do at that.” She said, wagging her head from side to side as she walked away. In a minute or two, she came back with Emmanuel, Thomas and Lily, each carrying their plates. Portia had two. Rose’s and her own.
“See now that’s not hard is it. And I see I must remind you, you are free. Free. You are no longer slaves, haven’t been since Captain Lovell hired you. Times aren’t like they used to be, Portia.”
“They ain’t but it seem like it to us. Our folks was slaves and it ain’t right somehow to eat with white folks…just don’t seem right.”
“Why?”
“Well, just don’t ‘at’s all. Now you eat.” Portia ordered.
Rose smiled. “See I knew you didn’t have an answer.”
Chapter 26
For two days Captain Lovell sat up in bed and read for a few minutes at a time. Even Doctor Case was surprised, but he warned Rose that things could take a turn. She never even considered that. Her husband was getting better. Now they could look at the desk he brought from France. And the other gifts he had carried back. They had been hidden in his office away from prying eyes until the Captain could tell her each story that came with each piece. Christmas was only three weeks away. Rose suggested they set up a tree in the foyer early and celebrate. There was so much to be thankful for.
Doctor Case said it might be a good idea and they should go along with it even though the Captain was still too weak to come down. Rose insisted they take a large branch up and hang little doo-dads from it so he would have something to look at. And that perhaps he could walk to the top of the stairs and see the huge tree Emmanuel had set up.
Today they would bedeck the tree with all those pretty doodads from the attic. She was beside herself with joy until she walked past her husband’s room. She heard the rattle in his chest and hurried down and told Portia to make up some of that awful paste and plaster his chest again.
Portia’s face darkened for a moment but she hurried away.
Rose felt sure things would be fine and dashed to the attic, pulled down the stairs by the rope and climbed up. She knew exactly where the Christmas boxes were stacked since they had cleaned and went straight there, diving into one box and another. She set four boxes next to the hole and scrambled down with the lightest one.
The box was placed in the marble hall. The tree smelled delicious and brought back memories of her own family Christmas celebrations. She was determined to make the most of the holiday, and earlier was better. Rose found Thomas and asked him to go up and haul the rest of the boxes down.
“Mis Rose, come and sit yoself down and eat. You gonna wear yoself out and then you be layin’ up in yo bed sick. Chicken and sweet taters tonight.” Portia called.
Rose laughed. “I’m coming. Let me wash up and I’ll be there. “Make sure there’s lots of butter.”
She insisted on everyone eating at the dining room table and since they were allowed no visitors everyone had gotten used to eating together, expecting no interruptions.
“After supper, let’s get that special broomstick with the nail that you made Emmanuel. This year’s tree must be twelve feet tall.”
“Not quite Miz Rose, but almost.” Emmanuel said. “I’ll go get it and we’ll get those ornaments and doo-hatches up tonight. Won’t take long with that stick. I’ll bring the ladder, too.”
“Thomas would you like to twirl the garland up and around the top. You and Lily can hang tinsel, too. We will have to string cranberries and popcorn, too…and I think it will take quite a while with such a large tree.”
“Gotta check and see if them cranberries came on down from Maine. Hear’d they were coming in, but it’s a mite early. We may have to do without this year.”
“Portia… do you think so?” Rose worried.
“Ain’t no sense in worryin’ now. I’s goin’ down the block and chop some o’that Myrtle from Miz Burn’s tree. She told me the other day I could get much as I wanted.”
“We’ll wrap it around the stair rail and get some Poinsettias from the garden shop for the entryway and the stairs.”
Rose didn’t see the look Portia gave her.
That baby girl knowin’ something we don’t know…. Portia felt jitters scuttle down her arms. She had to fight the old superstitions her mother believed in and remind herself the good Lord was the only way and not to get in His way o’things with such nonsense. Lord have mercy, she whispered.
Within the hour Emmanuel’s stick had hung stringed ornaments and garland from the perfect tiptop to the wide bottom pine. Rose declared it perfect. She didn’t like too many things catching the eye, leaving room so folks could admire the tree as well. She liked simplicity and to her less was better.
Thomas, Emmanuel and Lily stood back with Rose, all three with their hands on their hips and declared it finished except for the red cranberry string, provided they could get them, and the popcorn string which could be finished in two or three evenings.
Portia was out back chopping the Myrtle so they could be wound into a wreath…it would die after a couple of days, but they could make others. She helped Portia formed circles from the vines and tied them together with string, while the scent of pine permeated the house.
* * *
“Good evening Captain. Hope we ain’t been too noisy down below, Miz Rose all excited with that tree and all.” She hustled over to the bed and poked her apron corners to her eyes. “Did I make that too powerful for ya, sir?” She inquired as she lifted off the cloth, heavy with the ointment.
“Well if it don’t kill me . . .” he began and choked out a cough. “If I can still breath, I think I’ll get some sleep now.”
She chuckled, glad to see him in high spirits. “Looking as though you gonna get better.” She said and helped him put on a fresh pajama top. “You rest now and don’t pay no nevermind about us. I’ll shut your door.”
* * *
The next morning Rose awoke and dressed early. The fragrance of pine filled the hallway. She checked in and found her husband still asleep. Snoring even. She smiled and heart light, went down the stairs. She was famished. Funny, she thought how when the heart was light the body was as well. She had been so tired and fearful that she’d nearly run herself down.
Energy pumped through her veins as she gobbled down her toast and eggs and headed to the verandah out front to see if there was fog lifting off the river this morning. She loved sitting out early and watching the day begin. Blessings in her heart began to add up again. She could see more clearly the beauty that surrounded her. The hope she now had that her husband would be on his feet again and working. If they were careful, perhaps he could visit the Orphanage with her. Perhaps. She dreamed a bit and stood, ready for the day to begin.
Portia came out and swept the porch. Now that the winter season was upon them leaves dropped from all around and the winds were cooler mornings and evenings. The hot spell had been broken and it was her favorite time of the year. Mostly because her husband came home for the winter each year. This would be a good Christmas. God spared her husband. She watched her friend sweep and hum a spiritual as she worked.
“Captain done ‘et his breakfast.” She said as she passed. “’Et it all. Said he slept like a baby, too.”
“Thank the Lord.” Rose said quietly and jumped up from her chair. “I’m going up if you don’t think it’ll tire him.”
“Chile you know he bri
ghten up when he see you.” She chuckled.
That was all Rose needed to hear. She bounded up the stairs, lifting her skirts and with hands behind her back, crept up to see if he was awake. He was reading.
“Have you made progress?” She said quietly.
He pulled glasses from his nose and laid them aside. “I have.” He motioned for her to take the chair. “What news do you have from below stairs.”
“The Christmas tree is up and beautiful. Perhaps you can see it…when Dr. Case says you can.” She added
“I can smell it. It brings back good memories.” He mused wishing he could smoke his pipe.
“Good.” She smiled.
“Are you lonely with no callers.” He rubbed his chin. Portia had given him a clean shave earlier.
“No. I’m just glad you’re here. Even Captain Wyatt hasn’t been round.”
“I forbid him. He has two ships to clean up for our next voyage. Told him I’d send Thomas if he needed him. And Dr. Case runs by every now and again and gives him a report.”
Rose liked the sound of that…their next voyage. Hope sprang up in her heart.
“Besides, he has family to visit while he’s here and….”
Rose noticed the Captain stopped his sentence in mid-air. She figured the Captain’s woman was also being visited as well as his sister Ava.
Chapter 27
The house was abuzz with talk of the Captain getting out of bed.
“Doctor Case, can we safely get him up?” Rose asked as they stood around the bed.
“On one condition. You must get Emmanuel or Captain Wyatt here and I’ll see if he is able. A fall would . . .”
“Of course.” Rose agreed quickly. “I’ll go for Emmanuel.”
She ran down the stairs and out to the stables where she knew Emmanuel would be shucking out the stalls.
“Can you come Emmanuel? Doctor Case said they are going to see if he can stand.”
Emmanuel put his pitchfork aside and rambled slowly, dusting off his trousers and shirt. He stopped by a water bucket and washed his hands. Then followed her in and up the stairs.
Rose waited and then realized they were waiting for her to leave. In her anxiousness to see if he could stand, she forgot her manners.
“Oh my.” She said and hurried out, shutting the door behind her. Instead of going down those stairs again, she wandered to the far hall and paced, then stepped inside her room. The Bible lay on her stand. She opened it and gazed at the family tree. They had been so busy decorating the house for early Christmas, she’d barely had time to read the names on her family tree. Her hands smoothed the front leaf and she began at the trunk and read upward to each branch. She had in her hands the names of her parents’ ancestors. She wondered if they would be proud of her now.
Thinking herself daft, she set aside her thoughts for another day. There was so much to do.
A few minutes later she heard groaning and grunting. She opened her door but did not step out. She wanted to be there when he first saw the tree. It was a benchmark, an achievement that all of them together would share if Captain Lovell were to be well again. She shivered at the thought, thankful for all the good that surrounded her.
Suddenly his door flew back and hit the wall. She could hear the men talking, their deep voices echoing down the long hall. He was up!
“May I come out?” She asked from the doorway.
“Do.” She heard her husband growl. “See a weak man up after weeks in a bed.”
She peeked out and sure enough he had on trousers and a shirt. She walked slowly and joined them at the rail. “What do you think?”
The Captain stared down at the tree, the top of it at eye level and with a weak whistle told her it was grand. “Well done.” He said breathlessly and asked to be taken back to bed, “weak as a new kitten.”
“You did it.” She encouraged him and watched as he painstakingly made the short walk to the bed, exhausted from the activity. “Rest now. Leave all of it up to us.”
After a bit of scuffle, the men had him back in bed. She heard him grumble and knew he had to be better if he was angry about not being strong.
Four days later her husband was dead.
Portia stayed through the night when his cough had returned and insisted Rose sleep in her room. Doctor Case had come, even Captain Wyatt had been called to Captain Lovell’s bedside. Rose had heard the rattle in his chest and the cough, but she was certain it would pass.
During the night he could fight no more and the doctor declared him free from this world to join the next. She had stood with the doctor, Captain Wyatt, Portia and Emmanuel. Feeling like she was in a dream she heard the words and did not believe them. She wanted to scream. To call him back. To tell him thank you one more time, but nothing came out of her mouth.
The next time she woke she was in her bed.
Twice she tried to get up and couldn’t. Portia told her the doctor had given her something to sleep. Had she really screamed or was it a dream.
By the end of the day, she was sitting up, drowsy yet aware that her husband was no longer with them. Her mind tried to process the thought. She was a widow. At twenty. What had happened to him? He was getting better. Then suddenly he was gone. All the wind went out of her sails. God had spoken and nothing would change it.
Portia told her that Captain Wyatt had caught her as she fainted and carried her to her room. She felt her face color. He must have disliked that, since he hardly said two words to her and when he did they were usually growls. She turned her face away and slept. It was easier than thinking.
The news traveled fast in Charleston. She knew she had to get up and take her place at her husbands side. To be honorable, upstanding, and strong. On the day his body was taken away, she had watched two young men come and wrap him and carry him down the stairs for the last time. She had stood there, no tears, no emotion. She had learned that at her mother’s knee. Life brought good times as well as bad times and you must prepare yourself for both. She’d said. Rose did her duty. She had a black dress refitted and carried herself like the lady she was. Condolences poured in from all over, including London. She hardly knew what to say. She knew very few of his acquaintances abroad, and those of Charleston’s society paid their respects with long lines. He was well-liked. Rose never knew just how much. Regret wound its ugly head around her neck.
She could have been a better wife. Her husband had held positions of importance here and in London. He was known most especially for his care of the unfortunate in society. Men and women came and told her stories how he had helped them during difficult times without asking for repayment. Some had gone on and helped others, because he had helped them. Just like her father did for him when he was young, Rose remembered.
She had been so childish. Reading those letters up in the attic, wishing she had someone to love her like “W” loved Darby. For days notes came in with stories. She could only hope to walk in his footsteps.
At the reading of the will, Rose sat still, the black veil hiding her face from view as she sat with the solicitor, Captain Wyatt, and Mrs. Jamison who nervously wondered out loud why she should be called in for the reading.
Soon, to Rose’s delight Mrs. Jamison learned that Captain Lovell’s small house was willed to her to sell or use in any way she deemed appropriate to secure income for Jamison’s Orphanage. Her church fan was doing double duty as she waved it back and forth, saying over and over, “Thank you Jesus. Thank you Jesus.”
Captain Wyatt, whom Rose found difficult to make eye contact with knowing he had been forced to carry her to her bed, was glad for the black veil covering her face. She carried off her role perfectly and rose from her seat. Mrs. Jamison, tears falling from her brown eyes, told her how good Captain Lovell had been to the children all through the years and now this. “The Lord bless you Mrs. Lovell. Your husband was a kind man. God bless you child.”
“God bless you Mrs. Jamison. I shall endeavor to walk in his footsteps.”
<
br /> After Mrs. Jamison left, Captain Wyatt caught her by the elbow. “We need to find a place to talk.”
“Mr. Wyatt can it wait. I am most tired.”
“Of course.”
He said the words, but her eyes detected he was not happy. It was not her concern. She knew that should she have to stand much longer he would be carrying her to the solicitor’s sofa. She felt the world tilt a bit and hurried away.
“Straight home quickly, Emmanuel if you please.” She stepped up and nearly lost her footing.
Captain Wyatt saw it, too.
The wind in her face, she hardly noticed people as they passed them, each lifting a hand to wave kindly to the new young widow in Charleston. She felt sick to her stomach. “Hurry please, Emmanuel.”
She made it to the house, walked straight through to the gardens and heaved up her stomach contents. Lily ran for her grandmother and Rose fell into the closest chair and fanned herself with her black gloved hand.
“Chile, you too hot in that get-up. Don’t know why white folks got to wear all that black, hanging ‘round ‘em like grave clothes and they still alive. God done took yo husband out o’this world and glad I am for it.” She muttered.
“Come one now. Take dat hat off and dem gloves. Lily, go get Miz Rose some water, and put a mint leaf in it.”
Lily ran.
Within minutes she was up the stairs and freed from all the frippery, in a soft cotton gown and put to bed. She could have cried at Portia’s ministrations. The woman sat on the bed next to her and without a word, petted and smoothed her hair, humming quietly. Rose fell into a sleep only the grieving know.
Chapter 28
For days Rose refused to see Captain Wyatt. Portia set him straight the third day, when she gave him Rose’s message. She would not see him until Monday next.
She wandered the house in a soft cotton dress of pink with miniature green leaves. Portia had forbade her to wear black and no visitors were allowed.
Rose wished only to think without interruption. To go through the house and finger this and that. Memories she could have made. She would not allow herself to go into the room where the gifts he brought from London were kept. That would be for another day. She sat at his desk and felt strange. Like he was standing behind her watching. She could not bring herself to sift through his things. Instead she pulled out her drawings and laid them across the desk. Would he have laughed had he seen them?