I waddled down to the shore and held up my hands. “This is it.”
Kitty chased behind me. “Slow down, Dolly. Thomas doesn’t want you to fall.”
“Can’t slow down, sis. I have to show you this.”
“Dirt?”
“No, this. This plot of ground. I own the land. This is where I’ll build a hotel. I might even add a musical church.”
Her face brightened. She clapped. “You bought it? But there’s nothing here. Does Thomas know they cheated you out of a building?”
With a shake of my head, I smoothed my thick middle. Thomas knew what he wanted to know, that I’d birthed one son, Josephy, then a daughter, Ann. In seven months, I’d soon give him another baby. “Kitty, I’m going to bring the elegance from across the sea here to Grenada. My hotel will be a work of art.”
“Why can’t you be happy with the store and the housekeeping services? Why more?” My sister looked down at her sandals that had beach sand. “Why do you have to keep pushing? Josephy was early. And we almost lost you with the last babe.”
“Ann is fine. She breathes. She’s growing.”
My sister clasped my stomach. “Don’t take on anything until this baby is here. You’re not strong, sometimes.”
“The sadness is not as bad.” I lied and lifted her chin. “And Thomas and you make everything good. I recovered much faster.”
Kitty balled her fists and jumped around in the wet sand. “I’m not good. I don’t want to lose you. I’m scared. Can’t you be easy?”
“No. Kitty, I’m going to put a hotel here. I’m going to construct something big and wonderful. And all the coins from the navy men visiting will be ours. Edward will run this for me when he grows up. I have to make sure he and Josephy have businesses. That’s how my princes will survive.”
The local council had made more rules that showed how they hated the colored planters. I needed my sons to have businesses that were not sugarcane estates. That was safe money. “When Frances grows up, she’ll run the store on Blaize. She’s already good with numbers for a six-year-old. Exceptional.”
She grabbed me. “I’m scared, Dolly.”
“Kitty, I learned so much in England. I know what it takes to get the top coins. Why let men get wealthy when that wealth could be ours?”
“Aren’t we doing fine? Do we need more?”
We were, but I wanted more. “Yes. My connections through Coxall and King can supply me the finest goods. Thomas has brought some of the Garraways, the good solvent ones, into my network. I can’t stop now because I’m a woman, a woman with child.”
Kitty tugged at her puffy sleeves made stiff with cording. I had the overdress of red linen designed for her because the silky fabric made her smile. She loved bright colors.
Then I remembered Kitty still danced with the old, the time before everything changed, when it was her and me against all the jumbies, all the evils. To soothe her, I took her palm in mine and hummed the old for her, our old hymn.
Rop tú mo baile.
Rop tú—
“Don’t die, Dolly. Don’t go away.”
“Kitty, I’m going to be fine, but Thomas and Mamaí will care for you if I’m sick. You promise to keep this baby safe.”
“Yes, Dolly. I will.”
I turned my back to my land. My sister needed me more than trying to build. This dirt, this plot of land, was still mine. It would have a hotel, Mrs. Dorothy’s hotel, the finest offerings in the Caribbean, fit for a prince.
Or a wonderful solicitor.
Thomas and Edward, Frances, and Eliza were out on the Mary. The blue pole of the sloop bobbled out in the water. I wanted to wave, but he was too far to see.
His businesses struggled, but the man was the best father to all my children, even going to Belvedere Estates to check on my Charlotte.
Life was cruel. She was barren, and I was a fertile sow.
“After this baby, can you be done, Dolly?”
I loved my children. I loved making children but not the darkness and struggle bringing them into this world.
I offered Kitty another hug. “Let’s go see what Sally has cooked.”
Our mouths watered. My grandma was silent most of the time, but she could cook anything from hens to breadfruit stews. “Maybe she made oattie bread.”
“Mmmm.” Kitty licked her lips. “Oh, that’s good with cream.”
My sister quickened her steps. “Come on, but talk to Thomas. No more babies.”
Her pretty voice was hard and definitive like that was all it took, just saying it out loud.
With a shrug, I patted her arm. Joseph Thomas wouldn’t understand. All he wanted was children. They were his pride.
After this one, I’d resort to Mamaí’s garden again. For I wanted my dreams, my family, and Thomas. Everyone would have to understand.