Yellow Crocus: A Novel (5 page)

Mattie pointed. “See that window there? The one on the corner up highest from the ground? I think that Miss Elizabeth’s room. I watch out of it when I get the chance.”

“You see us?” Poppy asked.

“Mm hm. I see you carrying Samuel to Rebecca and coming in from the fields and such.”

Poppy nodded his head. “Good to know where you at. I gonna stop and wave from now on. Just in case you there.”

“I gonna be waving back. Even if you don’ see me. Every mornin’ and every evenin’ I stand there watchin’ you all. Samuel look like he pretty happy,” Mattie ventured.

Rebecca jumped in. “Confused at first. But now he used to it. I sing to him. That helps.”

“He sleeping all right?” Mattie wondered.

“He a real good sleeper,” Poppy said. “Hardly ever get me up.”

“Cook says Mrs. Ann gonna try at havin’ another one. That true?” Rebecca asked.

“That what I hear. They got her eatin’ meat at all her meals. Massa be wantin’ a son, just like most men folk.”

“Guess they gonna be keepin’ you busy for a while.”

Mattie sighed. “I wanna finish up with Miss Elizabeth, be done with the Big House, but I gonna be doin’ whatever Mrs. Gray tells me. I s’pose they gonna have me feed this next one. I hopin’ for a boy too. Maybe they send me back out if they done with the babies.”

“Bet you likin’ all the food and fancy clothes,” someone declared.

That got Mattie angry. With heat in her voice she replied, “The food good, the clothes nice, but I rather be out here with Samuel.”

At the sound of his name Samuel fussed and reached for Rebecca. Mattie’s heart skipped a beat because she suspected he was hungry. She wanted to be the one to feed him while she could, while she was here, but she was afraid he might refuse her. Samuel twisted hard away from her to get to Rebecca. Mattie looked at Rebecca, uncertain what to do, her unspoken question written on her face.

“Go ahead. You offer it to him. That all you can do,” Rebecca said gently. “Take him somewhere private. Where he ain’t gonna see me.”

Mattie carried Samuel inside the cabin. She lowered herself onto a hard pallet and slowly undid the top buttons of her dress and pulled the fabric aside. Then Mattie laid Samuel across her lap, tucked his right arm behind her waist and pulled him toward her left breast. He arched his back, jerked his head away, and scrunched up his face in preparation to let out a wail.

“You okay,” Mattie said gently, “I got the good stuff too. You used to love it right here.”

Samuel stopped protesting when Mattie spoke. She rubbed the back of his head and leaned over to kiss his forehead. “We got time.”

She gazed into his eyes, rocked back and forth, and sang to him:

Go to sleepy little baby
Go to sleepy little baby
Your momma’s gone away and your daddy’s gone to stay
Didn’t leave nobody but the baby

Eventually Samuel relaxed. Mattie cautiously, slowly brought his head toward her breast. He parted his lips a little. She squirted a bit of milk into his mouth. He licked his lips, smiled up at her, and opened his mouth. She gently placed her nipple into his waiting mouth. His body tensed, but he didn’t pull back. She squeezed her breast to bring out more milk. Samuel licked her nipple. She did it again and he licked some more. They sat frozen, her breast against his mouth, with him neither pulling away nor latching on. Mattie held her breath and said a prayer, “Please God, give me this.”

She inhaled slowly and calmly breathed out. Tenderly she rubbed the tight curls on his head. He pulled away, but she kept her hand behind his head. He pushed back against her flesh and bones as he attempted to pull away. She rubbed his hair again. He quickly turned his head slightly from left to right, opened his mouth wide, and then pulled her nipple deep into his mouth. Then he sucked with vigor. Her milk rushed out into him.

“That right, baby boy. That right. You know. You know what to do.”

Mattie breathed a sigh of relief. She still had this. They hadn’t taken her son away from her completely. Sitting on the edge of the pallet, Mattie was determined to enjoy this moment, this precious time with her son.

Chapter 4

M
iss Elizabeth sat comfortably against Mattie’s left hip as they came down the front stairs. When Mattie turned to enter the formal sitting room their bodies tensed in unison. Mattie gently patted Miss Elizabeth’s leg as she privately whispered, “You all right” into the ten-month-old baby’s small pink ear. “I ain’t gonna leave you.”

Mrs. Ann and Grandmother Wainwright sat in waiting for this Saturday afternoon ritual. Mrs. Ann perched uncomfortably at one end of the blue upholstered couch in the center of the large, high-ceilinged room, a brown muslin dress pulled taut across her large, round abdomen. Nodding absently at the words coming out of Grandmother Wainwright’s mouth, Miss Ann gazed away from her mother-in-law.

Grandmother Wainwright, the widowed matriarch of the household, had married into the Wainwright family in 1800. She gave birth to a son, Alistair, in 1803, and then suffered through several pregnancies that ended in miscarriage. A daughter, Rose, arrived in 1808, followed by Jonathan in 1810. When Rose succumbed to scarlet fever in 1812, Grandmother Wainwright locked her husband out of her bedroom, declaring she no longer wished to risk another broken heart. When Alistair broke his neck at the age of thirty-one while attempting a risky jump on horseback, she saw it as further confirmation that it was best not to love too deeply or become too attached. It was a principle that had served her well since then.

Grandmother Wainwright fully occupied one end of the blue couch. Volumes of black fabric from her skirt covered the seat of the couch. Her pale eyes stayed fixed on Mrs. Ann’s face as Mattie and Miss Elizabeth waited in the entryway of the room.

“Of course you shall not suckle this one either,” she said. “I do not care if it is the fashion. It is unseemly for a woman of your stature to feed a child. Elizabeth is to be weaned to goat’s milk. As soon as my grandson is born, she can start with him.”

Mrs. Ann continued to nod.

“Now bring the child over to visit her mother,” Grandmother Wainwright commanded, finally acknowledging Mattie’s presence.

As they crossed the room, Mattie felt Miss Elizabeth slip her hand across the neck of Mattie’s dress. Pudgy pink fingers traveled along Mattie’s collarbone until they grasped the shells of the necklace that nestled there. The toddler rested her head in the crook of Mattie’s neck, hiding her face from the two women on the couch. Rubbing the child’s back with her free arm, Mattie resisted the impulse to kiss the top of Miss Elizabeth’s head or whisper words of comfort into the little girl’s ear. When they reached the couch, the child tightened her grip on the shell necklace as Mattie pulled her away from her body. Tears filled Miss Elizabeth’s bright blue eyes, and her bottom lip quivered as she clung to Mattie.

When Mrs. Ann spoke, resignation tinged her voice. “I am too big to hold her. Keep her on your lap for today.”

Mattie hid her relief.

Grandmother Wainwright snapped, making no attempt to hide the contempt in her voice, “You spoil that child. She needs to know she is not in control.”

“She will learn soon enough. I am too tired for tears today.”

Mattie, careful not to make eye contact with either of the women, sat on the chair next to the divan. Miss Elizabeth kept her face hidden in the crook of Mattie’s neck, though she tentatively peeked out at her mother. When Mrs. Ann tickled her leg Miss Elizabeth smiled at her mother. Slowly Mattie shifted Miss Elizabeth until the baby faced her mother.

“Patty-cake, patty-cake,” Mrs. Ann began. She chanted the familiar rhyme and clapped her daughter’s warm hands together. Moving both of their hands through the gestures, they both smiled when they got to the end. Miss Elizabeth turned around to make sure Mattie approved of the game as well. Mattie nodded and smiled reassuringly at the child.

Grandmother Wainwright interrupted the game. “As soon as my grandson is born, you will suckle him. We have purchased a new girl to be with Elizabeth.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mattie replied.

“It will not be for a few weeks yet,” inserted Mrs. Ann, “…and it may not be a son.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Of course it shall be a son,” Grandmother Wainwright declared without hesitation.

Mattie was composed through the rest of the visit, but she was deeply shaken by this news. She had anticipated suckling the new baby, but she did not think it would force her away from Miss Elizabeth. As much as she had desired to keep her special feeling only for Samuel, she had come to love this child. This caring, little white girl had captured her heart. And she was going to lose her too.

The coming weeks felt like the days leading up to Miss Elizabeth’s birth when she waited to leave Samuel to come in. Each morning Mattie wondered if this would be their last day together. And then each night she thanked God for the gift of that day and asked for one more. It was an anxious, bittersweet time.

Mattie knew it would be an easier transition for Miss Elizabeth, and for herself, if they nursed less in preparation for the change, but she did not deny the child her breast. Whenever they settled in together for a feeding, Mattie had a heavy heart knowing this might be the last time she held Miss Elizabeth so close.

One late Sunday evening, Mattie was staring out the window of the nursery hoping to catch sight of Samuel. She had been standing there since she returned from her visit to the Quarters. For many hours on that lovely May afternoon Samuel had squealed in delight as Mattie ran after him. His tight-fisted hands pumped back and forth as she chased him then he would suddenly freeze, allowing himself to be caught in his mother’s arms and twirled around. After a few spins he used his limited vocabulary to ask for, “Mo, mo,” and she happily began the game all over again.

Miss Elizabeth sat near Mattie’s feet, occasionally pulling herself up on Mattie’s long skirt or crawling off to retrieve a ball Mattie pushed away with her foot. The door to the nursery opened as Mattie’s toe was about to strike the ball again. Quickly Mattie turned from the window, reached down to Miss Elizabeth’s outstretched arms, brought the child into her arms, and said, “Good evening, ma’am.”

“Labor has begun,” declared Mrs. Gray. “No need for you to come to the birthing room. When the child is born Emily will bring him to you and take Miss Elizabeth to her new room.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”

With that, Miss Elizabeth and Mattie were left alone for the last time. Mattie sat on the rocking chair with the one-year-old on her lap. Her voice shook as she explained to the child, “You gotta be with that new Charlotte now. I gonna be with your new brother or sister. Charlotte was brung over to take care a you. She seem fine enough.” Her voice caught. “You gonna be all right.”

Mattie pulled Miss Elizabeth close for a cuddle, but the active girl wanted none of it. She pushed her body away and slid her legs down to the ground. The child quickly crawled to the ball by the window, adeptly transitioned to a sitting position, and threw the ball toward Mattie. It rolled past her. With a sad smile she lowered herself to the ground to retrieve the ball from behind the rocker. She turned around to see Miss Elizabeth gazing at her expectantly, eyebrows arched upward and head cocked sideways in a hopeful question, “Ba?”