The House of Eve (95)

Green eyes come from my side of the family.



William had been unfaithful to her, and Wilhelmina was the product of this affair. Rose, the mother who had her hands in everything, fixed William’s trouble with the adoption. She was a magician who could wave her wand and make everyone’s problems go away. Wilhelmina was William’s baby, not Eleanor’s.

“How could you?” Eleanor’s voice was a slow growl. Everyone turned to look at her.

“Honey, you okay?” William reached for her arm and she recoiled like he was on fire.

“You lied to me, William.”

Eleanor couldn’t believe that he had the audacity to look startled. How long did he think he could keep up this farce? She might not be a doctor, but she wasn’t stupid.

“You and your mother.”

Rose narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about now, child?”

“Mother Margaret. She told me that you met with her. That you sent her to the hospital to plant the seed of adoption in my head. It wasn’t a coincidence. You tricked me.”

A look of panic crossed William’s face as he and his mother exchanged glances.

Rose spoke in her placating voice. The one Eleanor had heard many times when she was forcing her way. “Because we knew you couldn’t carry, sweetie. We were just trying to make it easier on you.”

“So why not just tell me that’s what you wanted me to do?”

“Because we didn’t think you could handle it.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“Elly,” William said, but Eleanor cut him off.

“We. Everything is we. You against me.”

“It’s not like that, baby. I was just…”

“Doing what your mother told you to do. What are you hiding?”

He looked stunned. “Nothing.”

“Then how could the eyes come from your side of the family, Rose? William, is this your baby with someone else?” She gave voice to her deepest fear.

“What? No. How could you say such a thing, honey?”

“Don’t you ‘honey’ me.” Eleanor stood trembling with rage. “They call first and say it’s a boy, then we’re told that there was some type of mix-up and then we were given a girl. A girl with green eyes, just like your mother’s relatives. Do you know the odds of green eyes in a Negro child? Even if she is mixed-race.”

Rose huffed. “You are officially delusional.”

“And you are overbearing,” Eleanor spat at Rose. It was the first time she had ever been disrespectful to her, but she did not take it back. She turned to William. “How can I trust anything you say?”

“Elly.”

“Just stop it. This family is far too concerned with keeping up appearances. I can’t take it anymore.” She glanced down at the baby in Rose’s arms and couldn’t help seeing a resemblance. Eleanor stormed from the table. In the kitchen, she yanked the car keys off the hook. William appeared behind her.

“Eleanor.”

“Please, just leave me alone.” She pushed through the door. Just as she was about to slam it closed, she heard Rose calling out.

“The neighbors, dear.” And then she added, in a lower voice, “You see, this is what happens when you marry a girl from the wrong side of the tracks.”

Eleanor got behind the wheel of their car for the first time in months just as she saw William run through the back door.

“Baby, please wait,” he called out.

Once the engine roared to life, Eleanor swerved into traffic without looking back.





CHAPTER FORTY-THREE THE AFTERMATH



Ruby




By the time my one-week debt in the laundry had been paid, my hands were stiff, the skin flaky from the constant contact with hot water and bleach. I couldn’t wait to see Aunt Marie. On the day of my release, Mrs. Shapiro did not drive to Washington, D.C., to pick me up. She had gotten what she wanted, and now that the papers were signed, I had been left to fend for myself. Thank God Aunt Marie wired me bus fare. One of the lifers hadn’t heard from her family in months, and although her sentence was over, she stayed on and worked because she had no place else to go.

An hour before my bus was due to depart, Kitchen Sister Kathleen thrust a packed lunch into my arms for my travels, and I thanked her before walking out the side door for the last time. Little Sister Bethany had told me the day before that she would drive me to the bus depot, but when I reached the back door, it was Mother Margaret who held the keys to the van.

We drove in silence. When we arrived at the Greyhound Line bus station on New York Avenue, I thanked her for the ride and then stepped down, clutching the same two muslin bags that I had arrived with in August. The contents of the bags were exactly the same. I was the one who had changed.

I could hear the window of the van being let down, and then Mother Margaret called out. “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord. Safe travels, Ruby.”

My head didn’t even turn back to acknowledge her, but my lips mouthed, “Fuck off, Your Excellency.”

The tires screeched as she pulled away from the curb. I had been set free, but freedom didn’t feel like I’d hoped it would.



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