Waiting For Lily Bloom

by Jericha Kingston

  “When I do, I’ll send money back to provide for them. When I make enough to rebuild, I’ll come back for my children. You can be sure of that.” He glanced at the pew where his tearful children sat. “I’m leaving out after the funeral tomorrow, so the children will need to go to their new homes tonight. You’ll understand if I don’t stay for this.” Henry’s chin wavered. “Thank you.” He nodded at Reverend Cox and walked down the aisle and out the door.

  How tragic. Lily folded her hands in her lap and refused to cry.

  Aunt Charity wiped her eyes and bowed her head.

  Reverend Cox stood. “Let’s ask God to comfort this family, and to grant safety to Henry in his travels.”

  Uncle Ned blew his nose.

  She would not cry.

  James reached over and took her hand in his.

  The minister finished his prayer and addressed the congregation.

  “Friends, these children are hurting. I know it’s asking a lot, but if there is any way to keep at least two siblings together, that would make their transition a little easier.”

  A man across the aisle stood and grimaced. “Reverend, I can only take one. It’s hard enough feeding mine. I’d like the oldest boy, please.”

  James’s grip on her hand tightened.

  “And I’d like the next-oldest son.” A lanky farmer nodded, humming to himself.

  “We’ll take the last one.” The store owner stood, motioning toward the youngest boy with his hat.

  “The missus and I…” a man spoke from behind her, “We…we’ve asked the Lord for children. I know their Pa is comin’ back for ‘em, but…we’ll take the youngest two girls.”

  The minister’s chest rose and fell. “Thank you, Bert. God bless you.”

  Silence filled the church. The minister looked left and right.

  “We’ve still two girls left.”

  Pews squeaked as people shifted.

  The minister looked down and pursed his lips. After a time, he raised his head. He looked at the oldest girl. “How old are you, Ava?”

  A soft voice responded. “Tw-twelve.”

  “And your sister?”

  “T-ten.”

  “Thank you, Ava.”

  Lily sat up straighter. She cocked her head to the right, hoping to see around Aunt Charity’s bun to the girl. Was the child nervous, or did she stutter?

  “Reverend, if you don’t mind…” A woman’s voice sounded behind her. “Well, excuse me for asking, but…what do the girls’ chores entail?”

  The minister’s neck reddened up to his ears.

  Lily resisted the urge to turn around. Who would ask such a question? Those girls weren’t servants. They were children grieving the loss of their mother.

  “These children are just like yours, Mrs. Slade, only older.”

  “Yes, sir.” The woman’s voice trembled. “I meant no harm. It’s just that I’d like to know if they’re able to keep Ma company when I help Jarvis with the cleanin’ up. You know how Ma is ailing in her mind. Maybe if the oldest could sit with her, read the Scriptures to her? It seems to calm her.”

  The minister looked to the girl.

  “Ava, is that something you’d like to do?”

  “Y-y-yes, S-sir.”

  Reverend Cox’s eyes softened. “That’s so kind of you, Ava.”

  “Th-that’s s-something I w-would like to d-do, b-b-but,” the child stopped for breath, “I c-can’t r-r-read.”

  The church fell silent.

  Lily’s heart tripped. Couldn’t read? The child was twelve!

  “Oh. Well.” Mrs. Slade stammered. “I’m sorry. I’d hoped….” She trailed off, murmuring about her weak mother.

  “Mrs. Slade, these are well-mannered children. If you’d reconsider—”

  “I’m sorry, Reverend. I truly am.”

  Aunt Charity shifted, her pew creaking.

  Lily leaned around her to see the frail girl, who sank a little lower in the pew and looked down.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Crandall?” The minister questioned. The couple shook their heads.

  “Julia? Do you need some help on the farm?”

  “What I need done requires a man’s back,” the woman answered.

  Would no one help those girls? Lily squeezed James’s hand.

  He looked at her.

  She squeezed his hand again and nodded toward Ava.

  His eyes widened. “Truly?” Surprise and pride intermingled in his gaze.

  He wanted to help those girls! Why didn’t he say something? She elbowed him.

  “You really want them?” James’s eyes crinkled at the corners.

  Lily jumped from her seat and gripped the pew in front of her.

  James looked up, his mouth open.

  “Miss Driggers?” The reverend’s eyebrows rose.

  “Mrs. Bloom.” James corrected, standing beside her. “And I believe my wife and I will take the remaining sisters.”

  The minister closed his eyes and exhaled, the corners of his mouth lifting. “God bless you both.”

  Lily swallowed. Was she mad? She’d become a wife and mother on the same day.

  5

  James lit the bedside lamp. Warm, muted light bathed the tiny space, illuminating the room he avoided. Yesterday, the room was empty, a memorial dedicated to his beloved parents. Eight hours ago, it would’ve been Lily’s. After the evening prayer service, it became Ava’s and Elsa’s.

  A layer of dust covered the chenille bedspread. He took it outside, shook it, and returned it to the bed. The dresser needed wiping, but so did everything else.

  He went to the kitchen and worked the pump. Rust-colored water spat out, but cleared. Lily stood beside the table, looking every bit as uncomfortable as their new charges.

  He’d talked to the girls on the walk home, but they were silent, more interested in the red powder that buried their town than in conversation.

  How could it be? Three females in his care, and not a peep out of one.

  “Is there anything I can get you girls before bed? A cup of milk?”

  “Yes, s-sir.” Ava looked at her sister, who nodded. “Elsa would like some, t-too. She’s just shy.”

  “Is she now?” James ladled three cups of milk. “That’s OK. So’s my wife.”

  Lily’s mouth flew open like a trout out of water.

  “She is?” Ava turned to Lily. “Y-you are?”

  Lily closed her mouth, placed her hands on her hips, and glared at him.

  “I’m teasin’.” He winked at Lily, and then turned to the girls. “Lily is far from shy. The reason she hasn’t welcomed you to our family is because she can’t speak.”

  “R-really?” Ava’s eyebrows disappeared into her bangs.

  Lily’s cheeks pinkened. She pursed her lips and nodded.

  Elsa left her sister’s side, grabbed Lily’s hand, and smiled.

  Lily blinked. She placed her free hand on Elsa’s head and smiled back at her.

  Well, I’ll be. Little Elsa had a tender heart. She’d accomplished in ten seconds what he’d tried to do all day.

  Ava giggled. “Y-you’ve done it now. Elsa d-doesn’t usually take to a person so fast, but when she d-does, y-you’ve got a friend for life. Ma says…” She froze.

  Elsa’s smile disappeared. Her lower lip trembled just before her chin fell to her chest.

  “I’m s-sorry, Els.” Ava walked to her sister and hugged her.

  Lily knelt down and wrapped her arms around both of them.

  James went to the trio and placed his hand on Lily’s shoulder. “We’re sorry about your mother, girls. She was a wonderful person.”

  Lily raised her eyes to his, their golden depths shimmering with unshed tears.

  A sniffle rang out from the huddle.

  His chest tightened, and he squeezed Lily’s hand. Tomorrow would be difficult. “Let’s show the girls to their room.”

  ****

  Lily rose, ignoring the milk that curdled in her stomach. Whatever the night h
eld, she’d endure it. The girls had a home now. That’s all that mattered.

  Ava and Elsa went to the outhouse, then readied for bed. James led them to their room and lit the lamp while Lily pulled down the top cover. The sisters took off their shoes and climbed into bed. Lily leaned down and kissed them both on their heads. When she stepped back, James placed his arm around her shoulder. The warmth and weight of his arm settled on her upper back. Her heart galloped.

  “We’re glad you’re here, girls. Let me pray for us.”

  Two heads bobbed.

  Lily closed her eyes.

  “Father, thank You for Your love and protection. Watch over us as we rest. Give us courage and strength. We need You, Lord. We don’t know what to do, but our eyes are on You.”

  His voice thickened. “Be with Ava, Elsa, and the other children tonight. Comfort Henry, and provide work for him. Thank You for protecting us in the storm. Should You grant another day, cause us to rise with thankful hearts. We especially thank You for Jesus. In Him we pray, Amen.”

  Lily opened her eyes.

  Ava breathed deeply, her chest rising and falling.

  Elsa’s lips turned up a bit at the corners.

  How sweet that he should soothe the girls with his words. The rich timbre of his voice gave her goose bumps. “Do you need anything else?” James questioned.

  “N-no, sir. We’ll be fine.”

  “All right. You know where the outhouse is.” He reached for the lamp as the sisters nodded. A click plunged the room into darkness. James interlaced Lily’s fingers with his. “Sleep well.”

  “Th-thank you.”

  James guided her steps into the hallway. Her leaden feet dragged. Sweat gathered between her shoulder blades.

  “Would you like to get ready for bed?”

  She tripped over her feet.

  His grip tightened on her damp hand. “Whoa there. Careful.”

  She looked up at him. A hint of a beard trailed his jaw. His dark eyes, though tired, twinkled. Heaven help her. She swallowed and pulled her hand from his. Turning away, she wrung her hands. What could she do?

  “Lily.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, and she jumped. He gently turned her to face him, shook his head, and kissed her forehead, the same as she’d kissed the girls. He took her hand once more and led her down the hall.

  She pictured Abe Lincoln seated in Ford’s Theatre. Marie Antoinette facing the guillotine.

  James came to a room and released her hand. He walked inside and lit a lamp.

  Dim light illumined the space. Sweet Heavenly days. The bed appeared to glow.

  He leaned over and pulled the covers down.

  She placed her hand on her throat.

  He grabbed a pillow, tucked it under his arm, and walked back to her, sporting a grin that caused her heart to hammer. The light softened his outline, casting a lustrous sheen on his copper hair. He stopped in front of her at the doorpost, tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and then raised her chin to meet his gaze.

  What did he see as he studied her? He stood so near that his breath tickled her cheek. His eyes were the darkest silk, framed by enviable lashes. His grin faded to a half-hearted smile, and then disappeared altogether when he gazed at her lips. “I should’ve known it was you,” he whispered, lifting her hand to his chest. “Thief.”

  Heat radiated against her palm. His spicy, male scent pervaded her lungs. Not unpleasant. Not dangerous, but not safe. She shivered. If she were a bird, she’d fly away.

  He traced her jaw with his thumb. His palm lay against the pulse in her neck. He leaned forward and touched his lips to hers. “Rest easy, wife.” With a final caress of her cheek, he dropped his hand and walked away. Moments later, the front door opened and closed.

  ****

  “Mama! Mama!”

  Lily gasped and catapulted from the bed. She blinked. Where on earth—?

  “Els, it’s OK. Shhh.”

  Lily stumbled into the hallway.

  The wailing increased. “Maaa-maaa.” Elsa’s tortured cries pierced Lily’s heart.

  She rushed into the girls’ room and lit the lamp.

  The darlings cradled each other as they wept.

  She pressed a hand to her lips as their outlines blurred. She crawled into the bed, gathering them. They wrapped thin arms around her as she held them close.

  “I-I’m s-sorry we woke you, Miss Lily.”

  She placed her hand on Ava’s cheek and shook her head. Poor things. She rubbed Elsa’s back until her cries quieted. Little hiccoughs replaced tears. What these dear-hearts had endured….she rocked the girls in her arms until they released her and lay down again.

  Bright blue eyes stared up at her, but soon weighted and closed. Elsa turned to her side.

  Their breathing steadied and lengthened.

  “You’re good with them.” James whispered, leaning against the doorpost.

  She rose gingerly and walked into the hallway. Heavens, she must look a fright.

  He was clean-shaven. What time was it?

  “It’s almost six.”

  How did he always know her thoughts?

  “It’s the first thing I wonder when I wake up.” He winked and turned for the kitchen. “Let the girls sleep a while longer. It’ll be a long day.”

  ****

  James dug as Lily swept. Her nose and mouth were covered with a kerchief. Damp hair clung to her forehead. She followed him, sweeping the porch and steps that he’d shoveled clear. At this rate, they’d get his front porch cleared by sunset. As he shoveled the dirt east, the western wind deposited more. He ran his forearm across his brow.

  Ava and Elsa rested inside. The funeral had tired them out.

  Was it just yesterday that Henry and his children had sat on the front pew as Reverend Cox delivered the eulogy? When Miss Anya was laid to rest, Henry wept and hugged his children. Shortly thereafter, he left for California.

  Parishioners had gone home, changed clothes, and returned to dig the church out of the dirt. It was a blessing, laboring with neighbors. Took folks’ minds from hunger. Dust pneumonia. Government slaughter of cattle.

  The men had moved hills of dirt, clearing a pathway to the church. The women brought cloth, oil soap, and newspaper, scrubbing pews and washing windows.

  Children stayed indoors, the older ones making sure toddlers didn’t get under the women’s feet.

  The swish of Lily’s broom swept him into the present. The woman worked. She hadn’t complained. And she had every right to.

  He dug another shovelful and tossed it in the direction of Lily’s hometown. Savannah. What was her life like back east? Not like this.

  She whimpered.

  His head snapped up. “Lily?”

  She pressed her lips together and shook her head.

  He dropped his shovel. “What’s wrong?”

  She ran her palm along her sweaty brow, and then gritted her teeth as air whistled past her lips. She blew on her hand.

  James grabbed her wrists and turned them palm up. Blistered raw. “Of all the…” Was he stupid? He should’ve known better. “Idiot!” And he had a pair of gloves inside. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  Her mouth fell open, eyes shimmering.

  “No, I mean—”

  Her face contorted. She threw down the broom, went in the house, and slammed the door.

  6

  Lily dashed for her bedroom. Her bedroom. Ha! It was his.

  “M-Miss Lily?” Ava squeaked, standing as Lily shot past.

  Elsa gripped the arms of her chair.

  Lily went to the bedroom, closed the door, and threw herself onto the bed. Of course, his scent would surround her, rising up from the mattress and impeding the very air she breathed. Tears stung her eyes.

  How could he? He was cruel. Heartless.

  She’d done her best. How could she know her hands would blister? She’d never even held a broom before she came to Oklahoma. Papa’s maid kept his home clean. God bless you, Mi
ss Washington.

  She’d tried to help him, tried to be a good wife. She looked down at her red, swollen hands. She wasn’t cut out to be a farmer’s wife. And she wasn’t an idiot!

  Selfish, uncaring oaf. He’d called her the cruelest of names. Mocked her.

  Why didn’t you say something?

  As if she could! She’d never forgive him for such a hurtful remark.

  ****

  James went inside and walked to the medicine cabinet.

  “M-Mr. Bloom, M-Miss Lily—”

  “I know, honey.”

  “She l-looked upset.”

  “She was.”

  “She w-was cryin’.”

  He winced. “I wasn’t thinkin’. I said somethin’ wrong.”

  Ava sat back in her rocker and shared a look with her sister. “Oh.”

  Oh indeed. He grabbed the alcohol and a clean cloth and walked to the bedroom. He would’ve knocked on the door, but soft, guttural cries clawed at his chest. Glory be. Anything but tears. He swallowed and turned the doorknob.

  Lily leapt from the bed and crossed her arms. Her eyes flashed fire.

  Lord, help me. “First, it wasn’t what you think.”

  She lifted her chin.

  “Hear me out. I was callin’ myself an idiot. I have a pair of gloves right in the kitchen, but I was so preoccupied, I forgot that you might not be used to work.”

  She placed her hands on her hips.

  “Not work.” He rubbed his forehead. “Farm work.” Her eye twitched, but he still had her attention, so he kept going. “The point is, I should’ve been more attentive.”

  She scowled.

  “I apologize. Will you forgive me?”

  With a huff, she unfolded her arms and walked to the window. That was one riled woman.

  He didn’t want to bring up his other idiotic remark, but it looked like he’d have to. “Just so you know, the last thing I said—”

  She spun around, static sizzling in the air.

  “It came out wrong. I was upset that you were hurtin’, and that was the first thing that came out of my mouth.” He stepped forward, and she faced the window again. He placed the alcohol and cloth on the dresser and walked to her. “I’d never say anything to hurt your feelings on purpose. I hope you believe me.”