Mrs. Lee and Mrs. Gray

by Dorothy Love

  “Well, we had better not count on it until we hear from the minister, but I will do all I can to convince him to perform the ceremony.”

  Selina scooped up the dirty linens. “I got to go.”

  I dressed and went down to the dining room, where my breakfast had been kept warm on a tray. I had just taken a bite of my biscuit when I heard Robert’s footfalls in the entry hall. I got up and went through the parlor to the front door. “Back from the city already?”

  He leaned down, smelling of soap and the garden, and pressed a rosebud into my hands. “Good morning, Mary. Mother just told me the doctor has been here. And that you are to rest. What are you doing out of bed?”

  “I can’t stay in bed all the time. And Papa went to some trouble to set up a desk for me. I intend to make use of it while the children are at their lessons.”

  He brushed at the corner of my mouth. “You’ve a bit of biscuit there. Go ahead and finish your breakfast before it gets cold.”

  “Will you sit with me and keep me company?”

  We returned to the dining room to find Papa happily munching from my plate. He looked up and stopped chewing. “Mary Anna, was this yours?”

  “It was, Papa. I was late to breakfast owing to a visit from the doctor.”

  My father blushed, even to his bald pate. “I do apologize, my dear. I shall send for another plate right away.”

  “No need. I’m not very hungry, and it won’t be long until dinner anyway.”

  He eyed the last bit of ham on the plate. “Well, if you are quite sure.”

  “Mary,” Robert said, “do you feel up to a short turn in the garden?”

  Leaving my rosebud on the table, I retrieved my straw hat and we went out into the peerless beauty of the late-summer day. Robert held tightly to my arm as we strolled across the gently rolling hills, listening to the noisy gossip of jays in the trees.

  “I didn’t expect you home from Washington so soon,” I said. “Mother said you were to be tied up with meetings all day.”

  “Well, one meeting, anyway. With General Totten.”

  I pressed a hand to my midsection. A meeting with his commanding officer could mean only one thing.

  “I received my orders this morning,” he said. “I’m to report to General Wool at San Antonio de Bexar. In case I am needed in the field in Mexico.”

  “I see. Though just why a married man with seven children would seek to put his life in peril is utterly beyond my powers of reasoning. Especially when you said yourself you are not even certain Congress ought to have declared war on Mexico.”

  He sighed. “I wish I felt more justified in our cause, but it is not my place to make such judgments. General Totten feels that I can be of use to General Wool, and I am prepared to render whatever services might be required to bring this matter to a swift end.”

  My chest was already aching, filling up with drops of loneliness that would become a torrent in the bleak months that lay ahead. “When do you leave?”

  “In a week or so. I have been assigned an orderly, an Irish fellow by the name of Connally. He is in charge of procuring mules for the garrison. As soon as he’s ready, we’ll be on the way.”

  The day had grown hot. The slant of sunlight flooding through the trees burned my eyes. We took a brief turn in the gardens and started back to the house.

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “Hard to say. But I hope that I—”

  “Papa!” Our three sons raced to greet us. Rob launched himself into Robert’s arms. Rooney wrapped his arms around Robert’s legs. Custis, nearly fourteen, stood apart, his eyes searching mine.

  “Papa, guess what?” Rob said. “Me and Rooney helped Ephraim in the garden.”

  “Did you?” Robert kissed our smallest son. “I am pleased that you find ways to be useful. And how about you, Rooney?”

  “Worked like a Trojan until it got too hot.” Rooney squinted up at me. “Mama, may we ask George to make us some lemonade?”

  Robert set Rob on his feet. “Ask him to make enough for everybody. I could use something cool to drink myself.”

  Rooney and Rob headed for the kitchen.

  Custis fell into step with his father and me. “The papers say the army is preparing for an assault on Mexico,” he said. “Papa, do you think there will be a war?”

  “That depends upon whether the Mexicans will stand down from their border dispute.”

  “But we can’t let the killing of our soldiers last spring go unanswered, can we, even if they were fighting in disputed territory? Wouldn’t that make us look weak? What is President Polk going to do about it?”

  We reached the house. Robert stopped on the wooden steps and placed a hand on our son’s shoulder. “For one thing, he is amassing more troops on the Texas-Mexico border. Perhaps a show of strength will be all that is needed. I hope so, since I have just this morning been ordered to proceed there.”

  “You’re going to fight?”

  “If it comes to that.”

  Ten days later, out on the porch, Robert kissed each of our children good-bye. Custis struggled to appear manly, but his eyes were wet.

  Rooney stood bravely between Agnes and Annie. “Don’t worry, Papa. When Custis goes back to school, me and Rob will take care of Mama.”

  “Thank you, son. I know you all will do your best while I am away.” Robert bent to Daughter. “Be kind to your mother, Mary Custis. And write to your poor old lonesome papa.”

  Mary, stoic as ever, merely nodded. Rob wept as if his little heart had shattered, and his tears nearly made me lose my composure too. Precious Life slept peacefully in my arms, too young to know her papa was leaving her. I couldn’t help wondering how old she would be when he came back to us.

  Daniel brought the carriage around and loaded Robert’s trunks. Mother and Papa came out. Papa shook Robert’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder and said gruffly, “Good luck, son.”

  “Thank you, Father.” Robert turned to my mother, who was having a hard time holding back her own tears. “Look after my Mary for me,” he said. “She takes on too much.”

  As if I had any choice, with seven noisy, needy children under my care.

  “You must make her get enough rest,” Robert said.

  “Try not to worry about us, Robert,” Mother said. “Only come home safely.”

  He bent to kiss our sleeping daughter. “We must pray for a swift conclusion to this Mexico business, Mary, for I am terribly homesick for you already.” His lips, soft and warm, brushed mine. “Take care of yourself, my dearest wife.”

  My throat ached with unshed tears. “And you do the same, my love.”

  “Mr. Robert?” Daniel stood beside the open carriage door. “We ought to get going if you plan on catching that train to Wheeling.”

  “All right.” Robert climbed inside and closed the door.

  Daniel clicked his tongue to the horses, and the carriage rolled down the drive. Rooney wrenched himself free from my father’s grasp and chased after it.

  I turned and carried Precious Life inside, my emotions a raw tangle of resentment at Robert’s going, pride in his bravery, and fear for his safety. The baby stirred and began to fuss. I kissed the top of her head, the weight of my impending vigil already pressing hard against my heart.

  22 | SELINA

  Rose wasn’t fibbing after all. Miss Mary and Missus gave her a wedding bigger than any we had ever seen down in the quarters. The new pink dress they bought her was trimmed with satin bows on the sleeves and a ruffle on the skirt. Her bonnet was of the same color and tied with wide ribbons.

  Missus and Miss Mary and her girls dressed up for the occasion in silk dresses and fancy hats. Mister Custis wore his old straw hat, a pair of threadbare fawn-colored breeches I had folded up a thousand times, and a sour expression that said he thought the whole thing was nothing but foolishness. He marched down to the quarters with his Bible and read some verses, and there under the big trees, Rose and Randall promised to stay tog
ether for the rest of their days, and that was that.

  George fixed us a ham with biscuits and the strawberry jam we had put up back in the spring, and a cake with boiled icing. Nathaniel and Wesley set up tables to hold everything. Randall and Rose sat side by side in Mauma’s best chairs, stiff and straight as Chinese royalty. Presents piled up at their feet like it was Christmas—new quilt tops, a candlestick, oilcloths for the table, jars of preserves. Judah gave them red flannel sacks filled with a special wedding potion to wear around their necks. Charles—who ran the dining room for Missus and who had showed me how to set a table and what a gravy boat was for—gave them a baby cradle, which set off a lot of laughing and teasing. But Rose and her new husband would never have a need for it. Rose had already told Mauma she wasn’t about to bring more babies into slavery. Mauma told Rose: easy to say, hard to do.

  My cousin George brought out the harmonica he had got from a store in Washington during a trip to market and played while we danced. After a while Miss Mary’s children got restless, and she let them go back up to the house with their grandparents. Pretty soon Daddy and Mister Bingham and some other of the menfolks drifted into the woods.

  I looked around for Wesley. I hadn’t seen him since he and Nathaniel finished setting up the wedding tables. Lately it seemed like my brother was always mad about something. Once or twice I asked him what was the matter, but he wouldn’t say anything. Mauma said it was because he was turning from a boy into a man. Maybe that was true, but I couldn’t stop worrying about him and his wild notions.

  “Selina.” Thornton appeared from out of the crowd and tried to kiss my cheek, but I slapped at his hand. He drew back. “Looks like somebody swallowed a hive of bees this morning.”

  “I don’t think we ought to kiss in front of everybody. That’s all.”

  “Why not? We gone to be married soon.”

  Just then, one of the Bingham children turned over a table. Plates and forks clattered to the ground. People scrambled to pick them up, and that seemed to be the end of the wedding celebration. Folks started back to their own cabins or scattered to the chores that never did take a holiday, no matter what.

  “I got to help Mauma carry her chairs home.”

  “I’ll do that. You a lady. And ladies don’t go around toting furniture.” Thornton crossed the yard, and I heard him telling Mauma he was there to help. He had dressed up in his best gray pants and blue shirt, and his hair was shiny as a raven’s wing. Mauma said he was too skinny and his cheekbones too sharp to be handsome, but Thornton Gray suited me just fine.

  Miss Mary crossed the yard, holding her skirts up from the dust. “Selina. You mustn’t feel envious of the wedding we gave Rose. I have written to the Reverend Keith about performing your ceremony.”

  “What did he say?”

  “I haven’t had a reply yet.” She placed a hand on my arm. “I saw the way you were watching Rose today. Sometimes it’s very difficult to stand by and witness the happiness of others. I wanted to remind you that your day is coming.”

  There are times when feelings go deeper than words, and the things that are most important fall between the cracks and stay there. The wedding was over and done. There wasn’t any use in letting Miss Mary know what I thought about it.

  “Reckon when the reverend will write you back?”

  “I have no idea. But I shall speak to him myself the next time I see him.”

  Rose and Randall came over. He was holding on to her tight, like he thought the wind might blow her away.

  “Miss Mary, we can’t thank you enough,” Rose said. “We sure had us a fine wedding.”

  “I’m very glad, Rose. This will be something to tell your children and grandchildren about one day.”

  Rose didn’t bat an eyelash. She looked up at Randall and then at Miss Mary and said, “Yessum, we surely will. Me and Randall, we want lots of children.”

  And I thought, Rose, when did you learn to lie like that?

  23 | MARY

  Dear Mrs. Lee,

  I regret that my extended travels and a subsequent illness have prevented my replying to your letter of last September. I beg your forgiveness for my tardiness. While I can appreciate your wanting a marriage service for so valuable a companion as Selina Norris, I am afraid I must refuse. The church—

  Miss Mary?” Daniel came into the room where Papa had set up a work desk for me and set down the bulging mail pouch. “Looks to me like you got some mail from Mr. Robert.”

  Setting aside the disappointing note from the minister, I opened the pouch to find letters from Robert for me and the children. “Yes. At last. Thank you, Daniel.”

  He went back into the hallway and I heard him greeting Old Peter, who still manned the door for Papa every day. I sorted the letters for Rob and Rooney and the girls. Desperate for the scent of my husband, I lifted his letter to my nose. But there was only the faintly musty smell of paper and sealing wax. I ran my fingers over his neat handwriting, every letter perfectly formed, and imagined his hands—strong and browned from months in the hot Mexican sun—gripping his pen. I pictured him hunched over his small camp table, tired and dusty after a day in the saddle, penning his letters by lantern light, pouring out his homesickness and his most ardent wishes onto the page.

  Now he wrote from Cerro Gordo describing the valley town and its inhabitants—dark-haired women selling fruits from carts in the street, old priests smelling of incense and wine, olive-skinned children who peered at him shyly from the windows of brown adobe huts as he rode past on his new mount.

  I have named her Grace Darling and you will see why when you meet her, for she is exceedingly well formed, of calm and sweet temperament, and fleet of foot.

  He mentioned little of the dangers he faced, knowing that such news would only make our separation harder to bear. Instead, he wrote of our children.

  I have written to Custis at school where I trust he is diligently applying himself. I hope the girls are well. How I wish I had them with me here, for they would be such a comfort to me. Tell Rooney and Rob to stay out of trouble.

  Kiss them all for me, dearest Mary, and believe me always your affectionate husband, RE Lee

  “Mama?” Rooney stood in the doorway in muddy boots, his shirt and trousers sopping wet. “Rob and I were playing pirates and, well, I sort of fell in the river.”

  I got to my feet, sucking in a sharp breath as a pain traveled along my leg. “Where is your brother?”

  “Oh, he’s all right. Jim and Kitty were with us, and Grandpapa too. Jim fished Rob out. They’re coming now, but I got here first.” He crossed the room to my desk, trailing water onto the wooden floor. “What’s the matter? Why are you crying?”

  I tucked away Robert’s letter to read again later. Letters took more than a month to reach me. This one would have to assuage my loneliness for many weeks to come.

  “I’m fine, child. But look at you. Go find Selina and ask her to fetch you some clean clothes.”

  Just then Kitty and Jim arrived with Papa and Rob. A sorrier lot I had never seen, but my father was having a fine time.

  “Now, do not be cross with us, Mary Anna. Boys need to be boys. And there was no harm done.” He grinned sheepishly and wrung water from his shirt.

  “You are the worst boy of all, Papa.”

  But it was impossible to be angry with a portly, balding, disheveled old man in a battered hat and tattered breeches so clearly besotted with his grandsons. They needed a man other than the servants to emulate, and Papa was happy to oblige.

  An hour later the boys were bathed and changed, the girls had finished their lessons, and we gathered in the parlor, where I handed out Robert’s letters. The children took turns reading aloud his charming descriptions of the birds and turtles and snakes of Mexico. He had included little hand-drawn sketches for each of his children, along with reminders to study hard and to write to him.

  Rooney’s lip trembled. He folded his letter and set it aside. “I miss Papa. I don’t know why
he had to go so far away.”

  I wanted to scoop him into my arms, but he thought himself too old now for such comforts. He slid off the chair and went in search of my father.

  “Mama, may we make a picture to send to Papa?” Annie perched on the arm of my chair and turned her good eye in my direction. “This morning I saw some bluebells blooming. If I make a picture, maybe he won’t be so homesick.”

  “That’s a lovely idea. He can pin it to his tent and think of you every time he sees it.” I drew her onto my lap and kissed her.

  “I want to send him a picture of my cat,” Agnes said.

  “He will like that, I’m sure. And we must remember to—”

  “Mary Anna?” Mother appeared in the doorway, a letter in her hands.

  “What is it, Mother?” I kissed my children and sent them off to their various pursuits.

  She crossed the room and took the chair closest to the window. “Your aunt Eleanor writes that your cousin Lorenzo is ill. She needs help in caring for him. I would go to Audley myself, but I am simply not strong enough these days to make the trip.”

  “Of course you must stay here. I’ll go. I’ll take Rooney and the girls with me. Kitty and Eliza can help you with Rob.”

  “What about Daughter?”

  “She will escape Arlington as soon as she can wangle an invitation. Mary seems to prefer almost any place to being at home with us.”

  Rooney had left his papa’s letter behind. I slipped it into my pocket.

  “Thank you for taking this on,” Mother said. “It won’t be easy looking after Lorenzo and keeping up with the children too.”

  “Annie and Agnes can help me with the baby. And I’d like to take Selina with me, if you can spare her.”

  “Surely your aunt Eleanor has a housekeeper of her own.”

  “Yes, but I will need someone to help me keep myself and the children organized. Selina was a great help the summer we spent at Kinloch. Besides, I feel I owe her a trip to distract her from disappointing news.”