Part 14 (1/2)
Saundra was an elegant African American, tall, slim, and stylish. She wore her gray hair cropped close to her head and today was dressed in white pants and a burgundy blouse. Neither had a designer label. Saundra was far from wealthy, but she did have cla.s.s.
A retired nurse, she had only been frequenting the shop for the last few years, but she was a lifelong knitter. That made her the first to tackle complex patterns, which she was happy to teach to others.
Dana caught Saundra's eye and gestured her over. Taking the baby from her breast, she put her to her shoulder and patted her back. But when she glanced at the door again, Saundra hadn't moved. Her large dark eyes were on the baby. She seemed unsure.
”I'll send her over,” Gillian said as she rose. ”I have to leave anyway.” She kissed Dana, then the baby. ”I'll have the pictures printed. Lotsa copies. Keep an eye on Ellie Jo, okay?”
”I will,” Dana said, ”and thank you for the quilt. You know what it means to me.”
Gillian smiled and went to Saundra, who approached with her eyes on the baby. She went behind Dana's chair and bent down to better see Lizzie's face. She touched the child's head with a trembling hand.
”I heard about this little one,” she said ever so softly. ”h.e.l.lo, Elizabeth.” She stroked Lizzie's head, then, still softly, asked Dana, ”May I hold her?”
Dana transferred Lizzie to unquestionably able arms.
”Oh my,” Saundra cooed. She had one hand under the baby's head, one under her bottom. ”Look at this. Look at this.”
”Didn't expect it, did ya?” Dana quipped.
”No, ma'am, I surely did not,” Saundra said with a drawl not usually heard in her voice. ”She is clearly a face from the past. This is quite stunning.”
Dana liked that word. ”It's also mystifying. We had no idea I had a relative who was African American.”
”It isn't something that people of color who have lost that color often discuss.”
”But you saw it right away.”
”Oh yes,” Saundra said with the arch of a brow. ”She is not Hispanic. My, my, my,” she sang to the baby.
Dana studied Saundra's features. Her lips were full, but her nose didn't have the breadth it would have had if she'd been of pure African descent.
”You're part white, aren't you?”
”I am,” Saundra said, still singing to the baby. ”My mama was black and my daddy white.” With the utmost care, she put the baby to her shoulder. Holding her there as though she were delicate crystal, she drew slow circles on Lizzie's back with the flat of long, red-tipped fingers.
”Did you worry about having children yourself?” Dana asked. They had never before discussed race; as with David, it had always been irrelevant.
”I never had children,” Saundra reminded her.
”Because of this?”
”Because there were too many others to care for. But if it's color you're asking about, no, I wouldn't have worried. I'm comfortable in my skin. I'd have been comfortable with theirs.”
Tara joined the conversation. ”Do you have siblings?”
”Not now. I did, though. A brother. He died several years back. He was much older.”
”What did he look like?” Dana asked.
Saundra smiled crookedly. ”Even more gray and wrinkled than me.”
”You are not wrinkled,” Dana said, because other than a few crow's feet, Saundra's skin was remarkably tight. ”And, besides, that's not what I mean.”
”I know,” she said, relenting. ”In his youth, my brother was a handsome devil. He was tall, lean, and lighter than me.”
”Did he ever have children?”
”Oh yes,” she enunciated clearly, ”quite a few.”
”Huh,” Tara mused. ”He spread it around.”
”I would have put it more delicately,” Saundra said. ”But yes.”
”What did the children look like?” Dana asked.
”He preferred white women, so the children were white.”
”Very white?” Dana wanted to know how many generations it took for color to vanish. It might give her a hint as to how far back to look.
”Some were very white. Others looked like this sweet one here.”
”Why did he prefer white women?” Tara asked.
Putting her cheek to the baby's head, swaying now from side to side, Saundra said softly, ”I guess he thought white had more status than black.”
”Do you?” Dana asked.
Saundra shrugged. ”I think higher percentages of poor people are uneducated and criminally disposed, and more poor people are black than white. I don't necessarily buy into the stereotype, but I understand its source.”
Dana was unsettled. ”Do you see me as superior to you because my skin is white? I must have some mixed blood.”
Saundra snorted. ”You're not black.”
”I am,” Dana insisted. ”The one-drop rule says I'm black.” But she felt like an impostor.
Saundra rolled her eyes as if to say, Spare me. ”I don't see you as superior to me, because you've never acted that way. You relate to me as you relate to your own grandmother, and Ellie Jo and I are alike. We both came from upwardly mobile families and have solid enough nest eggs to live comfortably.” She frowned. ”Is Ellie Jo all right, by the way? She seemed disturbed when I pa.s.sed her.”
”She was,” Dana said with another look at the door. ”I don't know what's the matter. She hasn't come back yet.”
”Should I go over and check on her?” Tara asked.
”No. If she's not back in a few more minutes, I'll go. That nest egg, Saundra-were you just prudent all those years?”
”Some. I also inherited a bit.” She smiled. ”I don't feel inferior now. It was different when I was young. I used to dwell on it then. For years, I was a maid.”
”I thought you were a nurse,” Tara said with a frown.