Shadows of St. Louis (14 page)

Without thinking, Henry turned around and punched his brother in the face.

"Don't you ever talk about my wife like that again," he said, standing over where John had fallen to the ground. Henry shook his head and glared at him. "We are no longer brothers."

Related by Marriage

Lillian Miller thought it was utterly ridiculous that she hadn't been invited to the Goodwin home. Their children were about to be wed.
Tomorrow.
Yet, Lillian had never even been to the
Goodwins
’ store. She couldn't afford their outrageously overpriced candy. That had to be the reason why the
Goodwins
didn't want to meet her. The
Goodwins
obviously thought the Millers were poor white trash. Well, Lillian was about to prove them wrong. She knew just how to as well.

Going to the small nearly empty closet in her bedroom, she pulled out a large rose-colored box. In it lay her most prized possession. It was a burgundy party gown that belonged to her mother. Through all the hard times, she had refused to sell it even though it would most likely fetch quite a handsome sum. Lillian had always held on to it in hopes that one day she would be able to pass it on to her daughter. Unfortunately, Lillian had all sons. But maybe she could pass it on to a granddaughter. Perhaps the granddaughter Rebecca Jane currently carried. She was near giddy at the thought.

Holding up the dress to her chin, she stared at her reflection in the broken mirror atop her dresser. It was a little too formal for a casual Sunday afternoon visit, but Lillian had nothing else to wear to the Goodwin's lavish home. And to the Goodwin home she was definitely going.

***

Elizabeth couldn't imagine why a woman dressed in an outdated burgundy gown was currently banging on her window. At first she thought the woman was a crazy street vagrant looking for a handout, but then the lunatic called her name.

"Oh, Elizabeth,
yoo
hoo
!
I came by for a visit."

She stared at the woman again, searching for an ounce of familiarity. There was none. Everything about the woman was wrong. The burgundy dress was suited for winter. The woman had to be dying of heat wearing something like that on the first day of July. And the woman wore no hat. Who would go out in this sun with no hat? A lunatic and that was all.

Instead of being securely and fashionably tucked under a hat, the woman's thin, gray-streaked blond hair hung to her shoulders. Her skin seemed weathered and worn as if time had not been kind to her. She could really use some face powder and cream.

Elizabeth would never be caught dead parading through town with a woman who looked like this. There was no way she knew her. It didn't explain how the lunatic knew her name though. But somehow, the poorly dressed lunatic knew Elizabeth's name. Mostly out of morbid curiosity, Elizabeth opened the door and allowed her entry into the shop.         

"We are closed for the day, but we still have a few samples leftover if you were looking for something small," Elizabeth said politely. "We close early on Sundays. We try to make the evening service at King's Cathedral."

"Oh, I'm not here for candy. Why ever would you think that?"

Elizabeth looked around the shop. "You do know this is a confectionary, do you not?"

"Oh yes, of course I do. But I'm not here about candy. I'm here about our children. Given the exciting news, I thought it best that we talk."           

"Children?
Exciting news?"
Elizabeth asked even more confused than before. What did she have to do with this woman's children?

"Oh yes, may we sit?"

"Oh, yes, of course. Follow me, Mrs.
… "

"Miller.
I'm Mrs. Miller. I'm sure Henry has mentioned me."

"Henry?" Elizabeth took a moment to try to recollect how or why she would know that name. Suddenly it hit her. He was the insane milkman who was in love with Emma Lynn. Elizabeth looked Mrs. Miller up and down. Apparently, crazy was a family trait. "Oh, yes, of course. Henry.
The milkman."

As they sat down, Elizabeth noticed a strange expression befall Mrs. Miller.

"You're not aware of the surname of the man who is about to marry your daughter?"

"My daughter?"
Elizabeth said, bolting out of her seat. She was amazed at how quickly her feelings toward this woman had shifted from mild amusement to fervent anger. "How dare you? What has she told you?"

Now it was Mrs. Miller's turn to get angry. "So my husband was right." She stood and crossed her arms. "I was wondering why we hadn't met and why I never even knew our children were courting. You are ashamed of us. Just because we're not as rich as you and don't have our own business doesn't mean we aren't good enough to be a part of your family."

"I don't know what Henry has told you but she is not part of my family."

Elizabeth didn't understand why the woman looked so confused. Why was she so apt to believe that Emma Lynn was a Goodwin? Elizabeth had spent over a decade carefully convincing people that Emma Lynn was no more than hired help. And it had worked. No one even questioned Emma Lynn's parentage.
No one until Henry Miller.
What on Earth had he told her about this family? Why was Mrs. Miller so accepting of her son marrying a Negro?

"Oh, I understand," Mrs. Miller said, softening a little. "This must be about the baby."

"Baby?
What baby?" How much did this woman know? How could she possibly know about Mary Anne's baby and the possibility of it coming out Negro? Had Emma Lynn overheard the conversation and reported it to Henry?  Maybe Mrs. Miller was talking about Charles' baby. Or was Emma Lynn pregnant and that was why Henry wanted to marry her? In either case, Elizabeth had horribly underestimated this woman's craftiness. She was obviously looking for a payout. Elizabeth closed her eyes and took a deep calming breath.
"All right.
If this is how you want to play it, how much do you want?"

"Excuse me?"

"Money.
That's obviously why you're here. How much money do you want to make all of this go away and never speak of it again?"

"I ... I don't understand."

"One hundred dollars," Mrs. Goodwin said, folding her arms. Elizabeth paced the sitting room. Already she was deep in thought about how she would be able to pay this woman off without telling George. He would never agree to blackmail. He would rather reveal the secret than lower himself to such a standard.

"A hundred dollars?"

Would this woman stop at nothing? One hundred dollars wasn't enough for her?
"Fine, three hundred."

"Mrs. Goodwin, I'm not quite sure —"

"Four hundred dollars and not a penny more."
Elizabeth had to give this woman credit. She was most likely trying to take care of her future half Negro grandchild. Elizabeth just hoped Mrs. Miller didn't get too smart and ask for some sort of monthly payment.
That was exactly what Elizabeth would have done if put in the same situation.

"Four hundred dollars is more money than my husband made last year," Mrs. Miller said with a wild and surprised expression.

Had she gone too high with four hundred? Maybe she should have said three hundred and fifty instead.

"Then I trust it will be enough for your silence." Elizabeth motioned for the door. "I will send payment forthwith."

"Oh, Mrs. Goodwin, I wasn't going to tell anyone about the baby. I understand how these things happen. My first child was born six months after I was married, if you understand what I am saying."

"Mrs. Miller, this conversation is over. I trust you can show yourself out." Elizabeth had no intention of making polite conversation with an extortionist. Instead, she needed to deal with Emma Lynn.

Another Argument

Henry borrowed the
Wideman’s
milk truck, volunteering to make service calls on all the customers on his route. In reality, he just needed a reason to see Emma Lynn during the day. No one would question a milkman talking to a maid too much. He often talked to maids during the day when adjustments needed to be made to orders.

“I told my family,” Henry said to Emma Lynn as they stood in the alley behind the Goodwin home a safe distance apart from each other.           Emma Lynn’s eyes expanded. “You told them about me?”

“Well, not exactly. I told them I was marrying Rebecca Jane. But I did say that you would be our maid.”

“Oh,” she said simply. Henry could tell she was upset.

 "Are you all right?" Henry asked.

She nodded yes, but he knew it wasn’t true. Every inch of his body yearned to take her in his arms and kiss her but because it was daylight, they couldn't touch. They were taking a risk even just talking to each other. He decided right then and there he was going to tell his family the truth. He hoped it would go better than how it did with John, but he was quietly resigned to the fact that it probably wouldn’t.

***

Emma Lynn wanted to invite Henry down to the cellar, but she couldn't take a chance of getting caught by Mrs. Goodwin. She had already asked Emma Lynn to move out. She needed a few more hours before she could permanently move with her new family, Henry, Rebecca Jane, and Clarence. If Mrs. Goodwin caught her with Henry in her room, she would certainly throw her out immediately and Emma Lynn would have nowhere to go for an entire night.

"I'm fine. Really I am," Emma Lynn said looking at the ground.

"No, no you're not," Henry replied. He sighed deeply. "We shouldn't do this. It isn't fair to you or to Clarence for that matter."

"There's no other way."

"Yes there is. We can get married and live together without Rebecca Jane and Clarence. We can move far away. I hear Canada looks more kindly on Negros."

Emma Lynn shook her head. "No, this is best for you. This way, you can have a partially normal life."

"And what about you, Emma?
When are you going to start thinking about what's best for your life?"

Looking into his eyes she said, "You are my life."

Henry closed the distance between them in a single step and swept her up into a kiss.

"Henry, no.
Someone might see," she said, pushing him away.

Henry squeezed her tighter and said, "I don't care." He kissed her again.

She would never tire of kissing Henry. Each time their lips touched she was sure her passion for him grew. Her feelings for him amazed and frightened her. How could one person be so important to her?

Though she wanted to lose herself in his embrace, she couldn't relinquish the tingle of doubt and fear that loomed in her consciousness. This life they were about to begin together was about to be fueled with terrible challenges. But she had to try it. Henry was right. A life without him scared her so much more than the challenges of a life with him.

"Will you come back tonight?" she asked as they stared into each other's eyes. They were still so close that she could feel his breath on her lips.

"If you want me to," he answered.

She nodded. "I do. Come back after dark when it's safer."

"All right.
I’ll return the truck and I’ll be right back." He kissed her forehead, and then slowly backed away. When he was only a few steps away, he hurried back to her and kissed her again. "I'll see you tonight." He put his hat on his head then hopped into his truck.

Emma Lynn watched until he disappeared around the corner. Then she turned and walked toward the broken window that led to her cellar.

To her surprise, the window was fixed and wouldn't open. She'd have to go in through the kitchen.

When she finally made it to her room, Mrs. Goodwin was there waiting for her. Without saying a word, Mrs. Goodwin walked straight up to Emma Lynn and slapped her across the face.

Emma Lynn clutched her face and stumbled backwards, stunned. She had no idea what this new wave of anger was for.

"You just couldn't leave well enough alone. After all we've done for
you,
this is how you repay us."

"What are you talking about?" Emma Lynn said, regaining her footing. She wanted to slap Mrs. Goodwin back even harder. She wanted to tackle her to the floor and beat some sense into that stubborn prideful woman, but something stopped her. A lifetime of learned submissiveness prevented Emma Lynn from acting on her true feelings, no matter how badly she wanted to.

"I'm talking about your little milk man. You told him everything and now his mother is blackmailing us. I knew this would happen. That's why I never wanted to tell you the truth. I knew you would want your revenge on us somehow."

"You are correct, I have dreamed of revenge against you," Emma Lynn said approaching Mrs. Goodwin. Years of repressed anger bubbled inside her threatening to spring forth.  She was sick of being the victim and being blamed for anything and everything that went wrong in the Goodwin home as if she was some sort of walking curse. She was tired of being the outcast. She didn't even care that she was being falsely accused at this point. She just finally wanted to stand up for herself. If that meant taking credit for a blackmailing scheme she had nothing to do with, so be it. Emma Lynn just really felt like seeing Mrs. Goodwin squirm.  "But trust me when I say my revenge will not be limited to money," she said walking closer to her. It was Mrs. Goodwin's turn to stumble backwards. Emma Lynn could see the fear in her eyes though she would never betray her true emotions with words. Emma Lynn knew she was having an effect on Mrs. Goodwin. "I don't want your money. When I take my revenge you'll definitely know it's from me and you'll feel it more than in your wallet. You'll feel it in every fiber of your being."

"Your bags have been packed, Emma Lynn. You leave tonight."

Emma Lynn surveyed her cellar bedroom quickly. Several emotions went through her mind and body. She felt a tinge of pain knowing that she was going to have to leave the only home she had ever known, but mostly she was confused. Confused at what belongings Mrs. Goodwin could have possibly packed for her. She didn't really own anything.
Nothing of value anyway.
Maybe a few dresses that Rebecca Jane had passed down to her over the years. A few trinkets from Charles, but that was it.
Certainly not enough to fill a suitcase.

"And where exactly am I supposed to go?" Emma Lynn asked.

"That is not my concern. You should have thought of that before you and your little boyfriend tried to blackmail us."

"I didn't — oh forget it." Grabbing the bag, Emma Lynn stormed up the stairs with Mrs. Goodwin a step behind.

"I can't believe how ungrateful you are, Emma Lynn."

"I'm so sorry, Mother. The next time my parents treat me like a slave in my own home, I'll learn to say thank you." Emma Lynn smiled inside a little. She guessed some of Rebecca Jane had really rubbed off on her. She didn't even know she was capable of such stinging remarks.

"What's going on here?" Charles asked as he and Rebecca Jane entered the sitting room.

"Emma Lynn, where are you going with that bag?" Rebecca Jane asked.

"Why don't you ask our dear mother?"

Charles and Rebecca Jane stared at their mother expectantly.

"Well don't look at me. She brought this upon herself," Mrs. Goodwin said.

"What? She brought what upon herself?" Rebecca Jane asked crossing her arms.

"She is no longer welcome here in this house."

"You're kicking her out?" Charles asked.

"Yes, she's kicking me out," Emma Lynn said bustling past both Charles and Rebecca Jane on her way out of the sitting room.

"Emma Lynn, wait. We're going to figure this out," he said, grabbing her arm.

"There's nothing to figure out. This is not my home. You are not my family. I just work here and now I no longer work here."

"Emma Lynn, you know that's not true," Rebecca Jane said.

"Mother, where is she supposed to go?" Charles asked.

"That is not my concern. Maybe she can go live with her milkman and his family. They've just come in to some money."

"Mother, if she goes, I go." Rebecca Jane crossed her arms and stared at her mother. It was another Goodwin woman show down.

Emma Lynn had seen plenty of these over the years. She honestly couldn't think of two people who were more stubborn. She had no idea how this would turn out. How could Rebecca Jane even suggest such a thing?

"I can't believe you're even considering this," Rebecca Jane said. "Well, let me make it easy for you, mother. We are leaving." Rebecca Jane grabbed Emma Lynn's arm and headed for the door.

"Becky, don't," Charles said. "Mother, stop them."

"I will do no such thing. If they want to be stubborn asses, then so be it. I want nothing to do with either of them."