Yellow Wife(64)

“Miss Pheby.” July stood in the doorway with her long hair in a single braid. She had grown so much in the six years that we had been together. With her pouty lips and bright eyes, she was more beautiful than most of the fancy girls I dressed.

“July, you have to tie up your hair.”

“Forgive me, ma’am. It just takes so much time.”

“Better that you are overheated than draw unwanted attention from the men at the tavern.”

She shifted from one foot to the other.

“Beauty is a curse for a slave girl.” I fidgeted with my hair. “It is what my mama always told me.”

“But you are mistress of the jail.”

“Not by choice,” I let slip, then changed the subject. “It is almost time to celebrate your birthday.”

“Oh, Miss Pheby.” She beamed.

When I had first arrived at the jail, July had told me that she did not know her birthday. We decided on the first day of September because it was easy enough to remember. In a little over a month, the girls and I would celebrate her sixteenth year of life with her favorite lemon cake and present her with small tokens of our affection.

“I’s here to remind you the dressmaker comin’ to measure the girls for they fall wardrobe.”

I tapped my forehead. With everything going on with Essex, I had plumb forgotten.

“Have they had their breakfast?”

“Yes, ma’am. They are in the drawing room playin’. She be here directly.”

“Very well, I will be right down.”

When July closed the door, I put my chair in front of it. Then I pulled up the floorboard for my ink bottle and ledger. I removed a page and jotted down all that I could remember that Essex had said, along with a few sentences more. I would have to steal into the Jailer’s library and remove an envelope. I tucked the letter into my secret pocket and covered the floor with the rug.

Hilda, the dressmaker, arrived tugging her wooden trunk on wheels, with all of her supplies.

“Good day.” She removed her gloves and bonnet and handed them to July. Her hair was mostly white, but her cheeks were cheery and she gave us all a big smile.

“Thank you so much for coming. I know this is a busy time for you.”

“It’s always my pleasure to visit with you and the little darlings.” She smiled.

The girls took turns greeting Hilda with how do you dos, and little curtsies. Then they sat at the foot of her trunk waiting for her to open it. Hilda handed them each a book with the latest pictures in girls’ fashion. Their eyes shone as they paged through catalogues. July sat between Hester and Isabel, and her demeanor brightened too. That was when I decided to have Hilda make her a dress as a birthday present. She could wear it to church and when we attended the state fair in October.

Abbie hobbled into the drawing room with tea and biscuits, which she set up on the buffet. Birdie squirmed around in my lap until she was satisfied, then stuck her finger in her mouth.

“I am first,” said Isabel.

“No, me. I want everything in yellow,” piped up Joan.

“Mama,” Hester cried.

“I think we should go in age order, from youngest to oldest.”

“No fair.” Hester balled up her fist.

I took her arm and whispered in her ear, “Always save the most elaborate dress for last.” I winked, and she returned my grin.

“Let’s go, little Miss Joan, hop up on my footstool.” Joan did as she was told, while Isabel watched and Hester opened her book.

With everyone occupied, it was a good opportunity for me to step aside. I beckoned to July, my most trusted confidante. “Hold Birdie. If he comes home, just whistle.”

She nodded. After peeking out the window to make sure no one was approaching the house, I made my way down the hall to his library. I sat down and quickly recopied the letter on a piece of manila stationery. As soon as I felt certain the ink had dried and it would not smudge, I folded it and placed it inside the envelope. When I returned to the drawing room, Joan was holding out a beautiful peach fabric.

“Mother, what do you think?”

I touched her cheek. “It is beautiful, darling.”

Birdie reached her arms out and I picked her up, hoping that she would calm my thundering heart.

Hilda hung her measuring tape around her neck. “All done.”

“Wait, there is one more.” I pointed to July. She looked at me, confused.

“For your sixteenth birthday, dear. Hilda will make you a lovely dress of your own.”

“Really?” Her cheeks blushed with disbelief. “Thank you, Miss Pheby.”

I watched as Hilda measured July. It was not with the same gentle care as she did the girls, but July did not seem to notice.

“Which fabric should I pick?”

“You should select what makes your heart spin in circles.”

She ran her fingers over a mint-green pattern that I could already envision her wearing. When Hilda had finished with July, I sent July and the girls into the dining room to have their supper.

“Your girls were a delight as always.” Hilda talked through the pins that she had in her mouth. “I do not usually have the opportunity to fit such young girls. You give me a wonderful challenge.”

“I am certain the dresses will be gorgeous.”