Vivid (29 page)

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Authors: Beverly Jenkins

Tags: #Historical Fiction, #African American history, #Michigan, #Fiction, #Romance, #Women Physicians, #Historical, #African American Romance, #African Americans, #American History

BOOK: Vivid
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Nate came over and peered at the name.
"Commerce."

As he explained to Majestic what commerce
was, Vivid watched them. He reminded her so much of her own father. Nate cared
about the things Majestic cared about, took the time to answer the ten thousand
questions she seemed to wake up with every morning, and loved her without
restraint. A daughter couldn't ask for a better father.

After leaving city hall they hailed a hack
and took in the waterfront where the biggest attraction, as far as Magic was
concerned, turned out to be the huge sign advertising Queen Anne Soap. Abigail
said the Queen Anne Soap Company had a store downtown where you could redeem
their wrappers for merchandise.

They had lunch at a dining room near Mrs.
Fisher's place, and Vivid had her first taste of Mr. Vernor's ginger ale. She
found the sweet but peppery beverage quite different. Nate, who'd had the drink
before and loved its flavor, ordered a large chilled pitcher for himself and
Abigail. Magic coughed and set her cup aside. She didn't like it at all.

"Mr. Vernor is a pharmacist,
Viveca." Abigail pointed out. "And Detroiters use his ginger ale for
everything. They float ice cream in it, use it to baste hams, take it for an
upset stomach, and drink it piping hot when the winter sniffles come
around."

Vivid stared at the golden-colored liquid
in her glass, impressed. "Really?"

"Wait until you taste ice cream
floating in it, Lancaster," Nate exclaimed. "There's nothing to
compare, especially on a hot day."

"I think it tastes like medicine,
Pa."

Nate ordered Magic a glass of the more
conventional lemonade and Magic smiled happily.

They spent the rest of the day taking in
more sights and shopping. Abigail steered them into a shop to pick up some teas
for Miss Edna. While the man behind the counter prepared Abigail's order, Nate,
Vivid, and Magic marveled at the bins containing teas from all over the world.

When they returned to the boardinghouse
late that evening they were laden down with enough packages and purchases to
found their own dry goods store.

The next day was spent at a much slower
pace. Nate went to get a haircut and Abigail spent the day visiting with Hester
Vachon, which left Vivid and Magic on their own. Abigail had purchased tickets
for that evening's speech by Mary Jane Garrett. A reception was to follow and
neither Vivid nor Magic wanted to be too tired, so they spent the day relaxing,
eating Mrs. Fisher's pound cake, and playing marbles in the dirt behind the
house.

When Nate came upon his daughter and
Lancaster on their knees, he paused a moment to discreetly feast his eyes on
the doctor's upraised hips as she sighted her shot. The flowing black skirt
only hinted at the beauty it concealed and Nate swore at himself for letting
his imagination linger. He had not come out here to become aroused, though he
found it to be a state easily attained when he was around the good doctor. He'd
spent most of yesterday trying to find a way to be alone with her. He'd had to
settle for a caress with his eyes, a polite hand on the arm as he helped her in
and out of the buggy, and the faint trail of her perfume as she passed him by.
They'd spent no time alone since the night on the swing and his hands itched to
hold her once again.

That evening, Vivid dressed in a
beautiful, full-skirted green gown. She placed her grandmother's emeralds in
her ears, patted her hair one more time, then went to help Magic with the
buttons and sash on her own fancy dress. When all three women were ready they
met Nate in Mrs. Fisher's parlor. Vivid had never seen Nate in anything other
than the clothes he wore every day back home in the Grove, and she had to admit
that formal evening dress made him even more handsome.

On the carriage ride to the Detroit Opera
House where Miss Garrett would be speaking, they listened to Abigail reminisce
on another Detroit Opera House event that figured very prominently in the
city's postwar history.

On April 7, 1870, Blacks and Whites had
come to the Detroit Opera House to celebrate the ratification of the Fifteenth
Amendment to the Constitution. The day had been declared a civic holiday by the
mayor and the state governor, and all the buildings downtown were draped with
patriotic flags and bunting. The day began with a cannon salute from the
artillerymen of Fort Wayne, one of the oldest forts in the United States. At
the sound of the cannon, the troopers from the First Michigan Cavalry,
resplendent in Union blue, began the parade up Woodward Avenue, the city's main
downtown thoroughfare. Behind them marched the Black Civil War veterans of the
Loyal League, followed by more than a thousand Black citizens of Detroit. All
along the parade route were banners hailing U.S. Grant, a war hero, then in his
first term as president, and banners hailing the Great Emancipator, killed in
1865. Other banners praised Frederick Douglass, William Lloyd Garrison, and
John Brown.

The marchers, still heading up Woodward,
circled Grand Circus Park, then on to Campus Martius, the spot from which the
Phalanx, Detroit's own Black regiment, had marched off to war. The marchers
broke ranks to enter the flag-draped opera house. On stage were thirty-two
young women dressed in white. From the African Baptist and Methodist churches
in the area, they symbolically represented the thirty-two states that had
ratified the Fifteenth Amendment, thereby making it the law of the land. In the
center of the thirty-two stood two tall young women also clad in white. They
represented the goddesses of Truth and Liberty.

After the audience stood at attention to
hear the "Star-Spangled Banner," the Reverend W. R. G. Mellen led the
opening prayer. He was followed by five hours of speeches given by such
dignitaries as Michigan Governor Henry P. Baldwin, who declared that the day of
"jubilee" rightfully belonged to Detroit's Black citizens, and by
local tailor and Underground Railroad agent William Lambert. Lambert, the
chairman of the day's events, introduced some formerly escaped slaves who never
would have witnessed jubilee had it not been for the "Road" and its
agents. He went on to speak of John Brown and his journey to Detroit before his
illfated raid at Harper's Ferry, then began praising such men as Detroit
hotelier Seymour Finney, whose secret barn loft sheltered hundreds of fugitives
as they passed through the city on their way to freedom in Canada and
elsewhere. Then as the celebration ended, he introduced well-known caterer John
DeBaptiste, who came on stage and promptly resigned as the superintendent and
main engineer of the Underground Railroad. "We don't need it
anymore," he laughingly told the throng.

The resignation was accepted with ovations
and cheers.

In the silence that followed DeBaptiste's
resignation, the familiar opening strains of the “Battle Hymn of the
Republic" came out of the stillness. The crowd sang quietly at first, but
as the chorus swelled and the blended voices gained strength, many sang the
final line with tears in their eyes.

Abigail finished the story just as they
arrived at the opera house. Vivid and the Graysons joined the hundreds of
others who'd come to listen to Mary Jane Garrett speak.

And speak she did. She began by recounting
the madness taking place in her home state of Louisiana. Vivid, like everyone
else in the country, knew of the horrors being heaped upon the South's duly
elected Black Republicans by men proclaiming themselves Redemption Democrats.
The nation's Black press had been loudly voicing their anger for years about
the country sitting back and doing nothing to protect Black men from being
systematically murdered for exercising their dearly won right to vote. Yet
hearing Miss Garrett talk about the terrifying massacres occurring in parishes
such as Caddo, Catahoula, and Orleans was even more chilling.

To combat this rampage of evil, Garrett
and the women of Louisiana were calling for emigration. She eloquently but
steadfastly demanded that the husbands and brothers of the race take their
women to places out of the South where they could live in security and peace
and get homes for themselves and education for their children.

She called upon all those living in the
North to lend their support by informing their Southern relatives about the
call and by signing the petitions she planned to send to the Congress with the
demand that members of the race be given the rights and privileges that the
Constitution guarantees.

Her hour-long talk was met by thunderous
applause. During the reception held in the lobby, Abigail, Nate, and Vivid
penned their signatures to the petitions, and Abigail and Vivid also added
their names to the list of women who wished to form a local chapter of
Garrett's fledgling organization called the Committee of Five Hundred Women.

They left the opera house and returned to
Mrs. Fisher's boardinghouse. During the ride, Magic vowed to stay awake all
night to ensure the wonderful day would never end, but she was soon fast asleep
in her father's arms.

Nate, cradling his softly snoring
daughter, climbed die stairs to the women's rented room. He coaxed her out of
her dress and shoes, then covered her with a thin blanket. With a smile, he
bent to press a paternal kiss upon her brow. "I'd like to take the early
train back in the morning," he said to Vivid and Abigail.

Both women nodded in understanding;
tonight would be their last one here. His eyes touched Vivid's, then he exited,
closing the door softly.

Abigail prepared for bed but Vivid, still
feeling the excitement of the evening, did not want to turn in yet. "Gail,
I think I'm going to go out and get some air. Will you and Magic be all
right?"

"We'll be fine, but you shouldn't
stray far."

"I won't," Vivid promised, then
picked up her emerald cape and stole out quietly.

The hallway was empty as Vivid made her
way to the stairs. When she passed Nate's door it suddenly opened. He seemed as
surprised as she at the abrupt appearance.

"I was going out for some air,"
she felt compelled to explain. She wondered if she would ever become accustomed
to his powerful bearing. His shoulders rivaled the width of the door frame.

"I was on my way down to settle our
bill," he replied.

It was his eyes, she decided; they were
mesmerizing and Vivid had to shake herself free from their spell. "Please
ask Mrs. Fisher to separate my portion. I will pay her before we leave in the
morning."

"That isn't necessary. I planned on
paying her the full amount."

Vivid shook her head. "That's very
nice of you, but I'd prefer not to be indebted."

For a moment he said nothing. The two of
them simply stood there staring at each other; he fighting the urge to run his
finger over the lush set of her lips and she fighting to breathe.

"Come," he said. "I'll walk
with you outside. We can discuss it there." He closed his door and
escorted her down the hall to the stairs.

It was a beautiful windy night. The full
breeze blew across Vivid's face and caught the edges of her cape and dress,
whipping the emerald silk softly and rippling the loose tendrils of her hair.
She brushed them back, loving the rush of air against her skin.

She and Nate were standing inside a small
gazebo centered far out in the field behind the boardinghouse. On the walk down
the cleared narrow path, neither spoke a word; she felt awkward and
tongue-tied, like a young girl out with a new beau.

His low-toned voice interrupted her
thoughts. "You really should let me pay your portion, Lancaster. Look at
it as my way of saying thanks for inviting Majestic along."

"I've enjoyed her company
immensely."

"Then thank me for having such an
adorable daughter by letting me pay your bill. Besides, after all the money you
spent yesterday, you could probably use a helping hand."

"I made reasonable purchases,"
Vivid countered in mock offense.

"Cuban cigars?"

"Who knew I could find hand-rolled
Cuban cigars here? I'll ship them to my father for Christmas."

"The silver baby rattle?"

"My sister in Boston is expecting
early next year. It'll be a christening gift. See, all reasonable
purchases."

Nate shook his head. "Is your daddy
going to eventually pay for all the things you purchased?"

"Heavens no." Vivid laughed.
"I have enough money of my own that I can afford to splurge now and
again."

"So you're telling me you can afford
to pay your portion."

“With the money I have in my accounts, I
can probably pay the bills of everyone in the place."

Nate cocked his head sideways and peered
at her. "We've never talked about this before, have we?"

"No, we haven't." Vivid wondered
if this was going to be another problem between them. Her father had become a
wealthy man. Her mother, Francesca, had amassed a sizable portfolio of
California land and property over the years, thanks to her shrewd business
sense and her friendship with the even shrewder Black businesswoman Biddie
Mason. Vivid knew men sometimes resented a woman who didn't need to look to
them for financial support.

"Does it bother you that I have a bit
of money?"

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