March 1882
Over the months, trips to work in the store had grown more and more awkward. Toby insisted on Al and Amelia staying in the apartment while he dragged a mattress for himself into the extra storeroom on the back of the building. Now, they needed to complete an inventory and display the spring and summer merchandise arriving from New Orleans. On the way into town, Al said, “I never thought the day would come when I dreaded seeing my son.”
Amelia’ eyes trailed over the little redbuds lining the road, blushing with tiny shoots–– daring another frost to kill their early welcome to spring. She sucked in a deep breath and decided to risk another fight. “Stop cleaning the apartment.”
“It’s dirty. That’s how we can help.”
“Can’t you understand? When you help, he feels judged.” She heard the sharpness in her voice and tried to soften her approach. “When you clean up his mess, he feels he’s not meeting your standards.”
Al slumped on the seat, kneaded the deepening lines in his forehead. “It’s the truth. He’s been home almost four years. I thought he’d have a huge practice by now.”
“It is huge. Haven’t you noticed he’s making calls at night until well after we go to bed?”
“But they pay in produce and eggs. Makes me sick when he offers the damn eggs for breakfast like he’s a sharecropper.”
“He’s trying to pay his way. Stop treating him like a child who needs to save his limited funds.”
They rode the rest of the way into Brenham in their own private misery––the one person in the world they both loved was driving them apart.
That night, after closing the store, they found a note from Toby saying he would be on call and not to expect him for supper. Near dawn, a loud thump on the wall of Toby’s office roused them from sleep. Al lit the lamp and strapped on his prosthesis as the sound of shuffling feet and mumbling voices grew louder. When he opened the door, the smell of alcohol filled the hall. Two men with bloodied faces stared into the lamplight.
One man nodded. “Doc’s in there with our buddy.”
Toby stuck his head out the door, his face was swollen and smeared with blood. “Sorry to wake you. We had a little trouble.”
“Can I help?” Al squared both feet like a man ready for a fight.
“Yeah. Take those guys in the apartment and let them clean up. I’m setting this one’s broken hand.”
Amelia pumped fresh water into a basin and offered each man a clean cloth. “Would you drink coffee?”
“No, ma’am. We’ll leave soon as the doc gets Banjo fixed up.”
A loud howl caused both men to freeze. “Maybe we better take that coffee.”
The pot was empty by the time Toby stepped into the apartment. His face had continued to swell into a mass of red and purple lumps, and blood caked on his cheek, and stained his collar. “That’s ten dollars.”
The two men looked at each other and then stood to rummage in their pockets. “We got eight between us.”
“Get the other two from your pal.” Toby backed up to let the men pass. Within minutes Toby had his pay, and the three clumped down the stairs to the street.
Al had stared like a man in a dream. Finally, he said, “What was that all about?”
Please don’t make this a confrontation. Amelia squeezed her husband’s arm.
Ella burst in the door at the end of the hall. “I saw those men leaving.” She reached for Toby’s cheek. “Let’s get you cleaned up. A man came to the house and said you’d been in a fight in Hell’s Half-Acre.”
Toby let her lead him to the office and stretched out on the examining table. He appeared to melt into her gentle washing of his face, neck, and raw knuckles.
“How did this happen?”
“I was headed back to the apartment when they called me to a man who’d puked until they thought he’d die. Probably bad whiskey. Those guys waylaid me after I got paid.” Toby peered through eyes swollen almost shut. “I thought it was just a robbery until one of them called me a nigger. That made me so mad that I didn’t care how hard they hit me, I was going to win. Truth is, they were so drunk that I finally beat the shit out of them.”
“Why’d you bring them here?” Al kept shaking his head.
“The guy needed his bones set. He broke his hand––on my face.”
“And you helped him out?” Al kept looking at his son like he could not comprehend what he was hearing.
“I charged him, Pop. And I got some regular paying patients from that crowd.”
“God-almighty, boy. You beat all. Try to kill a bastard and then fix him up.”
“Come on, Pop,” Toby mumbled. “Don’t hound me. There’re people you have to whip to show them you’re capable. I’ve convinced that Half-Acre bunch. Prostitutes come in, pay cash. Makes it possible to get by on chickens and eggs from everybody else.” Toby’s swollen lips formed a lopsided grin at Ella, still gently applying iodine to his wounds.
“I know it burns,” Ella cooed. “You’ll soon be pretty again.”
Amelia saw the brief look between Toby and Ella. She looked away, feeling she had intruded on something intimate.
“I hear people in the hall.” Ella helped Toby stand. “Go rest in the apartment. Your folks can help me with patients. If they’re too sick, we’ll call you.”
Toby nodded and limped––stiff as an old man––onto the porch to avoid the hallway.
That night, before she headed home, Ella came to check on Toby. He reached his swollen hand out to clasp hers. “Don’t you think it’s time we tell them?”
Ella’s face glowed, radiant in the lamplight. “It’s perfect.”
“We want to get married. At the schoolhouse.” Toby winced. “As soon as I’m able to lift my bride up on that mare.”
Al laid his hand––gentle as a blessing––on Toby’s shoulder. Amelia threw her arms around Ella. “Better still,” Al said, “You won’t have to wait so long to lift your bride if you let us give you that buggy for a wedding gift.”
Toby closed his swollen eyes and tears slipped along his purple cheeks. “We’d be grateful.” He reached for Ella’s hand. “We thought about asking Dr. Crane to come down from Independence to marry us. He never minded that we weren’t Baptists.” Toby frowned.
“Absolutely. Crane loves you like one of his own. We’re closing the store sale next week. You want me to ask him while we’re in Independence?” Al stopped, looked sideways at Amelia. “There I go again. Bossing.”
“Ha, Pop. Whatever made you think you’re bossy?” Toby grinned sideways at Al.
That night, Al paced the floor. “I thought things had settled down after Jarrell Packerman went to the pen. Those men beat Toby for no reason except his color. He can’t fight every man who hates Negroes.”
Amelia had been writing to Helga. She laid down her pen. “Much as I wish you didn’t have to take your turn on patrol every two weeks, with Nancy and those babies alone in the teacherage, we dare not stop.”
“You think we should buy Toby a gun?”
Amelia shook her head. “Remember, you’re staying out of his life. If he wants a gun, he’ll buy it. For all we know, he carries one inside his jacket, just like you.”
“You noticed?”
“I feel it when you put your arm around me and when you kiss me good-bye.” Amelia picked up her pen. That was another thing she did not share with her sister––Al’s gun.
Al decided not to tell Amelia that he was worried about Crane’s willingness to marry a colored couple. He knew Crane would not be bothered about the prospect, but he wasn’t so confident about the Baptists. Would Crane fear losing the presidency of Baylor?
The day they arrived in Independence to close the sale, Ruby was jubilant, and her excitement rubbed off on Emmett who smiled like a man who had found a pot of gold.
Al left Amelia and Ruby chattering about the burgeoning sales of spring and summer items and walked to Crane’s office on the Baylor campus. He had practiced how to pose the question and steeled himself for a negative reply.
William Crane uncoiled from behind his massive desk and bound forward to grab Al’s hand. “Seeing you has turned this into a bountiful day. Have a seat, my friend.”
Al breathed a silent prayer and gazed at the walls lined with books that stretched from floor to ceiling. “I need to thank you and Archer for directing me to Emmett and Ruby.”
“Couldn’t be a better little couple to run that place. I feel energized every time I open the door.” Crane leaned back in his chair. “Tell me about Tob. I hear he’s helping a lot of folks.”
“He’s getting married. Actually, that’s why I’m here.” Slow down. Keep your head about you. “I know it’s asking a lot since he and Ella aren’t Baptist, but they’re hoping you’ll marry them.”
Crane’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “I’d be delighted.”
Al felt limp with relief. “You think it’ll hurt you with the Baptists?”
“I won’t ask them. I keep remembering the day Tob wanted to know if he would have been welcome at Baylor if we had known he was a man of color.” Crane slowly shook his head. “That question’s haunted me. I can’t remedy the truth, but I can marry that boy. It’s the only way I know to make it better.”
Both men, unable to speak, rose and clasped hands.
The wedding went off without a hitch at the end of March, and the newlyweds went back to Brenham in their little black doctor’s buggy. In late June, Al and Amelia hauled a load of watermelons and cantaloupes to the store. Amelia always checked the mail slot as soon as she arrived. To her delight, she found a letter from Helga.
“My sister says Hermie and Lilly Pearl are expecting a child early next year.” Amelia pressed the pages to her chest and then burst into laughter as Cora grabbed her in a hug.
“I wish we had such good news around here,” Cora dabbed at her eyes with the hem of her apron.
“What else does she say?” Al set aside the ledgers.
Amelia kept laughing. “She says she had about given up watching for Lilly Pearl’s V-shaped waist to make a change.” Amelia didn’t mention that Al had been betting on getting a grandchild. He often nuzzled her neck and reminded her that Waters men had strong seeds. He meant it to be a tease, but it made her think of his night with the slave girl.
Al went back to work on the ledgers, and Amelia began helping Cora inventory the ladies’ department at the back of the store.
“Have you noticed anything strange about Hébert?” Cora kept her voice low. Her eyes darted about like she feared a spy might be listening.
“It’s been almost two years since Regina passed, and he’s still living in his old shack. We invite him to supper several times a week, and we’re lucky if he accepts even once.”
“Well, I tell you it’s strange. He’s bought two nice white shirts and two pairs of trousers that fit. He’s never had more than one suit. Only gets new work pants when the last two are worn to threads.”
“I’ll ask Al if he’s noticed a change.” Amelia remembered recent times when she’d seen Hébert working around the school. He was far enough away that she hadn’t noticed what he wore. She decided not to add fuel to Cora’s simmering curiosity.
It was dark by the time they closed the store and climbed the stairs. There were no patients waiting in the hall. They could hear Toby and Ella cleaning his office. “Why don’t we tell them about Helga’s grandbaby?” Al didn’t wait for Amelia to agree. He knocked on the office door.
“Amelia got good news from her sister today.” Al proceeded to tell about Hermie and Lilly Pearl expecting a baby.
Both young people burst into laughter. They looked at each other and nodded in unison. “Might as well keep up with our Indianola cousins.” Toby slipped his fingers along Ella’s sweaty cheek. “We’re having our baby in February.”
“Wow,” Al shouted. “I don’t even know those Indianola people, and I was feeling jealous.”
Al took Amelia’s hand as they watched Toby and Ella ride toward home in their little buggy. “Did you notice they’re smiling like they own the world?”
“They do. Don’t you remember how perfect life feels when making love is all you can think of?” Amelia lifted Al’s hand and kissed his fingertips.
“I still do.” He pulled her against him. “May I take you to McIntyre’s for supper and then take you to bed when we get back?”
“It will be my pleasure. Meantime, I’ll tell you Cora’s latest gossip.”
The waiter had barely stepped away from the table when Al leaned in for the news.
“I saw Hébert giving Austin a ride on his mare. His trousers held a crease sharper than a straight-edge razor. I almost asked if he was going to a funeral. Then I thought about being an old maid and kept my mouth shut.”
Amelia laughed. “I’m glad you held your tongue. Sounds like Hébert may be courting Miss Nancy.”
“You think I ought to encourage him?”
“No, Albert Waters, you’re as nosey as Cora. That man can manage without your help.” Amelia grinned. “But keep an eye on him and let me know what you think.”
When they returned to the apartment, Al lit the lamp and held it close to her face as though searching for the truth. “Do you think things are better between Toby and me?”
Amelia reached for her husband, pressed her body against him and tried to shape her words carefully. “I think the healing’s underway. I worry that you’ll tear open the scab.”
“If it’s a boy, and he names him for me, won’t that be a sign that we’re on solid ground?”
She began undressing for bed. “Don’t say a word. Don’t even hint.”