Part 11 (1/2)

I let it be, and my mind drifted off to Sarah.

I didn't care for this Mr. Williams. The only thing he'd ever said to me was, ”Remove yourself hastily.” I'd been building a fire in the drawing room so the man could get himself warm, and that's what he had to say, Remove yourself hastily.

I couldn't see Sarah married to him any more than I could see myself married to Goodis. He still trailed after me, wanting you know what. Mauma said, tell him, go jump in the lake.

Yesterday, Sarah had asked, ”When I marry, would you come with me to live?”

”Leave mauma?”

Real quick, she'd said, ”Oh, you don't have to . . . I just thought . . . Well, I'll miss you.”

Even though we didn't have that much to say to each other anymore, I hated to think about us parting. ”I reckon I'll miss you, too,” I told her.

Cross the room, mauma said, ”How old you reckon I is?” She never did know her age for sure, didn't have a record. ”Seems I had you when I'm 'bout the same old as you now, and you nineteen. What that make me?”

I counted it in my head. ”You're thirty-eight.”

”That ain't too old,” she said.

We stayed like that a while, mauma staring at the window, mulling over her age, and me laying in the bed wide awake now, when she cried out, ”Look, Handful! Look a here!” She leapt to her feet, bouncing on her knees. ”There go 'nother one!”

I bolted from the bed.

”The stars,” she said. ”They falling just like they done for your granny-mauma. Come on. Hurry.”

We yanked on our shoes and sack coats, s.n.a.t.c.hed up an old quilt, and were out the door, mauma tearing cross the work yard, me two steps behind.

We spread the quilt on the ground out in the open behind the spirit tree and lay down on top of it. When I looked up, the night opened and the stars poured down.

Each time a star streaked by, mauma laughed low in her throat.

When the stars stopped falling and the sky went still, I saw her hands rub the little mound of her belly.

And I knew then what it was she wasn't too old for.

Sarah.

Sarah, you should sit down. Please.”

That was how Thomas began. He gestured toward the two chairs beside the window that overlooked the piazza, but it was I alone who sat.

It was half past noon, and here was my brother, the au courant of Charleston barristers, interrupting his lawyering to speak with me in the privacy of my room. His face was pale with what I took to be dread.

Naturally, my mind went to Father. One could scarcely look at him these days without worrying about him, this thin, hollowed-out man with the uncertain gait and erratic hand. Despite that, there'd been some improvement lately, enough that he'd returned to his duties on the bench.

Just the week before, I'd come upon Father laboring along the main pa.s.sage with his cane. It had conjured up an old Sunday School image from our catechism of Lazarus hobbling from the tomb with his shroud cleaving to his ankles. Father's left hand was shaking as if waving to a pa.s.serby, and before he saw me, he grabbed it violently, trying to subdue it. Noticing me, he said, ”Oh, Sarah. G.o.d is ruthless to the aged.” I walked with him to the back door, moving with a corresponding slowness that only called attention to his feebleness.

”So tell me, when will you marry?” It was the only question anyone ever asked me now, but coming from Father, it brought me to a standstill. I'd been promised to Burke since last February, and not once had Father even mentioned it. I hadn't blamed him for missing the engagement party, which Thomas and Sally had graciously hosted-he'd been bedridden then-but there'd been so many months of silence since.

”I don't know,” I answered. ”Burke is waiting on his father to a.s.sign the business over to him. He wants to be in the proper position.”

”Does he?” His tone was sardonic, and I made no attempt to answer.

It was difficult now to remember those times when Father had let me plunder his books and basked in my speeches. There'd been a kind of invisible cord running between us then, and I tried to think exactly when it'd been broken. The day he forbade me books? Thomas' farewell party, when he hurled his vicious words? You shame yourself. You shame us all. Where did you get the notion that you could study the law?

”I remind you, Sarah, there is no divorce law in our state,” he was saying. ”Once you are married, the contract is indissoluble. You are aware of this?”

”Yes, Father, I know.”

He nodded with what seemed like bleak acceptance.

That was where my mind alighted in those final moments before Thomas delivered his news, upon Father and my last encounter with him, upon his frailty.

”You've always been my favorite sister,” Thomas said. ”You know that. In truth, you've been the favorite of all my siblings.”

He paused, stalling, gazing through the window across the piazza into the garden. I watched a drop of perspiration slide to his temple and cling in the net of wrinkles that was already forming. A strange resignation settled on me. Whatever it is, it has already happened.

”. . . Please, I'm not as fragile as you might think. Tell me plainly.”

”You're right. I will simply say it. I'm afraid Burke Williams has misrepresented himself to you. It has come to my attention that he has other female acquaintances.”

Without considering the hidden entendre, I said, ”Surely, that's not a crime.”

”Sarah, these acquaintances-they're also his fiancees.”

I knew suddenly what he said was true. So many things made sense now. The delay in naming a marriage date. The incessant trips he made to visit family or conduct business. The curious fact that someone so full of looks and charm had settled on me.

My eyes filled. Thomas dug for his handkerchief and waited while I dabbed them dry.

”How did you learn of this?” I asked, composed, no doubt protected by the recoil of shock.

”Sally's cousin Franny in Beaufort wrote to say she'd attended a soiree there and seen Burke openly courting a young woman. She didn't approach him, of course, but she did discreetly question the young woman, who told her Burke had recently proposed.”

I looked down at my lap, trying to absorb what he'd said. ”But why? Why would he do this? I don't understand.”

Thomas sat and took my hands. ”He's one of those men who prey on young ladies. We hear of this kind of thing now. There's a fast-set of young men acquiring fiancees in order to-” He paused. ”To lure women into s.e.xual liaisons. They a.s.sure the women that given the promise of wedlock, such compromises are acceptable.” He could barely look at me. ”I trust he didn't take advantage-”

”No,” I said. ”He did not.”

Thomas exhaled with relief that embarra.s.sed me in its extravagance.