Yellow Wife(10)

“More pudding, Missus?” I held out the silver bowl, but she shook her head and stood to retire.

Her ankles had swole so much that it became my nightly job to soak her feet in white willow bark and massage her legs until she seemed satisfied. Once I patted them dry and propped her on the bed with pillows, Lovie entered the room to brush her hair.

I had left the mending in a basket on the porch and grabbed it up on my way to the loom house.

Outside, the evening was damp and moisture hung in the air. I could smell the sweet scent of oncoming rain. A patch of bellflowers grew along the side of the house, and I pinched one off and tucked it behind my ear. I felt both nervous and excited over what I planned to do. Tonight, my yearning for Essex was going to outweigh Mama’s repeated caution. We had fevered for each other long enough, and I had lost the ability to contain my fire for him. No one had cherished me like Essex, and I was ready to give him my all. I climbed the ladder in the loom house, and when I saw Essex sitting in my chair, goose pimples prickled my arms.

“Glad you came.” I tugged on his lip.

My thirst for him burned the back of my throat, and I lifted my skirt and straddled his lap. He seemed startled by my boldness, which fueled me to press my hips into him while undoing the buttons on his shirt. Essex removed his mouth from mine and stopped my hands.

“What is wrong?”

“I’s something to tell you.”

“Can it wait till after?”

My insides were all worked up, but he lifted me off his lap by the waist. The bellflower fell from my ear, the pink petal already wilted. I had come on too strong. Maybe he thought I was unladylike. My nerves were suddenly on edge, so I reached under the seat for Mama’s needlework to focus my hands.

“I thought you wanted me.”

“Oh, beautiful, it ain’t you.”

“Then what?”

He stood, buttoning his shirt. I looked up at him, trying to read his expression, but could not.

“I done something terrible.”

“You are scaring me, Essex.” I inserted the knitting needle under the front loop of yarn, but the movement did not comfort me.

He hesitated then said, “Missus Delphina. She been… forcing herself on me.”

“Forcing? Forcing how?”

“To lay down with her. Like she should wit’ her husband.”

The room started swirling, and my head felt too heavy for my neck. The needlework slid from my lap onto the floor. “What are you saying?”

“I ain’t want to. You gotta believe me.”

“A white woman? Master’s wife?”

“She made me, Pheby. Said Massa spent so much time with his nigger woman, she needed a nigger too.”

I grabbed his arm and dug my nails into his skin. “All this time I have been saving myself for you and you laying with the missus?” I slapped him across the face so hard my palm stung.

“You know I ain’t have no choice.”

“Ain’t you a man?”

Essex glared at me. “In this place, I’s a slave first.”

I stood with my fist balled, ready to hit him again, but he pinned my arms down by my sides.

“Calm down.”

“How! When you stomping all over my heart!”

“I’s so sorry. She said if I ain’t do what she said, she would tell Massa I forced her with a knife. Said he have me strung up.”

I wriggled but he held me tighter.

“Baby, you know I don’t want that woman. All I wants is you.”

The betrayal made me choke on my own saliva. I broke into a fit of coughs until my lungs finally made way for air to flow. Not wanting to stand so close to Essex, I tried to push past him, but he held me in his arms. Over and over again, I banged my fist into his chest. All my life, Miss Sally had me thinking things would always go my way. Mama had me thinking I was more than a slave. But nothing was working in my favor. Not even my man was mine. Essex stood tall, taking every punch until I crumpled in my chair from exhaustion. When I settled down, he passed me his canteen of water. I drank and then held the cold metal to my forehead, trying to get my thoughts right.

“When did this happen?”

He sat across from me. “During her morning walks she come get me from the stables.”

“Why are you telling me now?”

“I cain’t be wit’ you like man and woman with that secret wearing a hole in my heart. I hated keeping it from you but I ain’t want to hurt you either.”

The silence between us grew like a presence in the room. Then a bigger worry weighed down on me. “When did this thing between you start?”

Essex’s face flashed pain. “?’Fore the winter festival.”

I counted the months by my fingers, then counted again to be sure.

“What you doin’?”

“Missus could be carrying your baby.”

He winced. “What you mean?”

“Enough moons have passed to line up with how long you been… together.”

Essex grabbed his ears and started pacing the floor. “I don’t want this trouble on my head.”

“If Missus have a dark baby, she still gon’ accuse you of rape. Be her word against yours. You be hanging from the tree fast as Snitch could get to you.”