by Londyn Skye
The day of their seventeenth birthdays, James sat with his head rested against his bedroom window, looking completely dejected. He had Lily’s favorite book in his hand, the one he had given to her after they had spent a long summer apart. Lily loved the story so much, she had requested for James to read it during every future birthday celebration, which was something he should have been doing at that very moment. But there he sat, devoured by sadness, unable to even bring himself to leave his room. Suddenly, though, he jumped to his feet when he saw Lily sneaking from the slave quarters toward their usual birthday meeting place. James was surprised to see her headed there. A few months prior, his father had discovered his friendship with Lily. Since then, James had hardly spoken a word to her. Jesse’s overbearing demands had left James feeling as though he had no choice but to begin treating Lily in the cold ways that his father expected masters to treat their slaves. So, while under the intense scrutiny of his father’s watchful eyes, he was far too terrified to meet Lily at the creek. For months, James had stoically accepted his sentence of life without Lily. But now seeing that she would be at their special tree, celebrating their birthday alone, caused a wave of sorrowful tears to instantly spill from his eyes.
Two hours later, still immobilized by sadness, James glanced out the window again and saw Lily return from their playground paradise with her head down. Her body language confessed to her pain. He figured it was parallel to his own. “Goodbye, Lily,” he whispered, as his tears pelted the leather cover of the book that he desperately wanted to share with her that day. Instead, he placed her book inside his trunk and refused to ever read it again without her.
For months, Lily had terribly missed the intimate companionship of her best friend. The night before turning seventeen, she had gotten down on her knees and begged God to bring her and James together again for just a few hours to celebrate their birthday. So, while James sat sulking by his window, Lily sat anxiously underneath their tree at the creek, hoping to hear her cherished story, being read to her by an even more cherished friend. For two hours, though, chirping birds was all she heard with Wilbur as her only company. When Lily’s prayers went unanswered, she walked back to the slave quarters in tears, and finally accepted that her friendship with James was truly over.
… So, ironically, on a day that signified the official ending of their friendship, James now stood before Lily wanting to officially cement their unique bond all over again. In front of William’s sparkling lake, on a tiny plot of land that he knew she cherished, James was ready to show Lily how truly sorry he was for all his mistakes. He hoped to create a new beginning for them both, one that slowly erased the pain from the past. James was ready to wipe those ugly memories away and stamp each and every day of their future together as happy. He felt there was no better way to begin that mission than by honoring the day that Lily came into the world with a beautiful picnic, underneath a tree where she often daydreamed of a better life for herself, the sort of life that James was giving up his own dreams to help give her.
Filled with hope, James took both of Lily’s hands into his. “Lily, afta’ everything we’ve been through ova’ the last several years, maybe I don’t deserve this, but please say you’ll celebrate with me again, the way we used to.” He squeezed her hands a little tighter. “Please?”
Lily looked down again at the spread that James had gone through the efforts of placing there for her, and she knew she could never reject such a beautiful invitation. “I’d love to,” she smiled.
James smiled in return, helped her to sit down, and poured her a glass of wine. After an eight-year hiatus, they then resumed the celebration of each other’s lives with a toast. James was the first to make his dedication. “To your extraordinary musical accomplishments this year and to the many more that will surely follow.” They touched glasses, and each took a sip of the finely aged red wine.
“And I’d like to dedicate this next toast to my closest, most dearest friend,” Lily began. “He is a friend who has always been there for me through all the ups and downs ‘a my life, a friend that I once used to hold close to me, and who I have missed terribly.” She raised her glass. “And so, to you, Wilbur! I shall collect many flies and crickets in honor of your life this evenin’!” she joked.
“Wilbur?!” was the only word James could get out through his laughter.
“Well, of course. Who else could I possibly be talkin’ about?” Lily asked sarcastically.
James pointed to himself. “I have no idea,” he said just as sarcastically.
“Oh yeah.” Lily waved her hand dismissively at him. “And you too,” she said dryly.
Lily’s sarcasm set the tone for the evening. It was lighthearted and playful, the way it had been between them as teenagers. They began reminiscing with one another about the memories of their previous birthday adventures while they sipped their wine and ate the grapes and strawberries that James had packed. After sharing their thoughts for a while, Lily placed a few candles on the cake and lit them. She closed her eyes to make her silent wish, but James decided to forgo the opportunity. Instead, he chose to admire the soft features of the woman who had been the subject of all his past birthday wishes, one of which was coming true right there before his very eyes. After Lily made her wish and opened her eyes, they blew out their candles together.
Despite James’s attempt to put Lily at ease about the gift she had gotten him, she still began to feel a bit uneasy when he started to unwrap it. However, she refrained from saying anything until after he had retrieved the two pair of pants that the box contained. “I-I mended ’em and cleaned ’em up good for you,” she explained, feeling her nerves striking again. “I seen where you tore both of ’em up at the knees while you’s workin’ on the stage. Figured it’d save you from havin’ to buy new ones.”
James turned the pants over and scrutinized them. “I do believe you’s lyin’ to me, Miss Lily,” he responded, a serious tone in his voice.
Lily furrowed her eyebrows and looked at him confused.
“I saw them sewin’ fairies sprinklin’ that mendin’ dust on these just the otha’ night!”
“Dang it!” Lily snapped her finger. “Ya’ caught me!” she exclaimed through a sudden burst of genuine laughter.
James shook his head. “Shame on you for tryna take all the credit!” he laughed.
“I guess I sho’ deserved that one, didn’t I?” Lily asked, as she wiped her laughter tears away.
“Yeeeah ya’ kinda did.”
“Well, I’ll be sure to thank the fairies the next time I see ’em,” she replied, a brilliant smile on her face.
“You do that,” James playfully demanded.
James continued to stare at Lily, suddenly wanting even more now to make love to her under the shade of her favorite tree, near the tranquility of the waters. Lily returned the gaze and her smile slowly faded away. The sudden sensual expression on her face instantly caused James’s southern region to throb with want. Lily could easily sense his passionate desires, and she found that her desires were mutual. At that very moment, she would have welcomed him inside of her without a second of hesitation.
James swallowed hard and quietly exhaled to alleviate the mounting pressure in his pants. He then cleared his throat. “Thank you, Lily,” he finally said.
“You’re very welcome,” Lily replied, still refusing to take her eyes off him. She rather liked the affect that she had on his body … and that he was suddenly having on hers.
To help return his body back to normal, James forced himself to break eye contact with Lily. He turned toward her gift, grabbed it, and handed it to her. To further cool himself down, he took quiet deep breaths as he watched Lily proceed to unwrap her present like an eager child at Christmas.
After Lily tore the wrapper away, she froze, her eyes fixated on the gift in her hands. “James,” she whispered, too stunned to say anything else. She immediately recognized that she was holding onto the original novel he had given to her many summe
rs ago, one she always found herself craving to hear on every birthday since.
Lily’s cherished book was the very first thing James had packed before their journey, with the specific intention of giving it back to her on this very day. He now watched her closely as she flipped through it, running her fingers down some of its pages. She was remembering the first time she had heard it and the unforgettable emotions she felt as she hung on every word. “I can’t believe you still have this. I didn’t think I’d eva’ hear it again,” she whispered.
“It’s yours. I wouldn’t’ve dreamed of gettin’ rid of it.”
“Thank you for this.”
“You’re welcome.”
Eager to experience the emotional ride again, Lily handed the book to James. “Well … aren’t you gonna read it?”
“No,” James quickly replied.
Lily stared at him, a puzzled look on her face.
“You are,” he explained.
“But, James, I can’t…”
“I’ve lost count ‘a how many times I’ve kicked myself ova’ the fact that I made a promise to you years ago … a promise that I’ve yet to keep,” James confessed. “But one thing I’m proud to say about myself is that I’m a man ‘a my word. So, Miss Lily…” He handed the book back to her. “By our next birthday, I’m gonna see to it that you’re able to read this here story from end to end, without a single word missed in between.” He gently lifted Lily’s face and looked into her eyes. “You have my word.”
Lily wanted to keep her emotions at bay during their birthday to ensure that it was nothing but a joyous celebration, but James’s gesture touched her too deeply to maintain control. Tears suddenly spilled from her eyes and christened the cover of the very first book she would ever be able to read.
James gave in to his natural need to comfort Lily. He felt no words were required this time. He simply slid over and embraced her. His embrace grew stronger the longer he held her, and so too did his desire not to let her go.
“Thank you,” Lily whispered as she laid her head on his shoulder and embraced him in return.
After a few moments, James pulled back to look at her. “You don’t owe me any thanks, Lily. I don’t deserve it anyway. If anything, I should be thankin’ you for your patience. I’m truly sorry this has taken so long. It’s bothered me for years that you can’t read this book, or any otha’ book for that matta’. But I promise ya’, I’m gonna do all I can to make it right.”
“And for that, I’m truly grateful.”
James nodded and silently accepted her kind words. “Now, c’mon ova’ here,” he said with a smile, patting the spot next to him.
Lily huddled close to James underneath her favorite tree on her little piece of heaven on William’s land. Within an instant, her brain had shut off her tears and opened her knowledge-hungry memory vault, eager to absorb every word of her very first reading lesson. Proudly, James then proceeded to give her a gift that would literally last her a lifetime.
Chapter Fifteen
Mary Jo Parker spent a good portion of her Saturday afternoon dolling herself up for yet another business dinner meeting with her father on the Adams plantation. She rode with him in their expensive carriage with her posture perfect, her hair frozen in spiral curls, and make-up meticulously pasted on her face, waving a hand fan that matched her fancy dress. The weather had warmed considerably since the last time she had seen James in town at Albert’s General Store. The swift movement of her hand fan was to ensure that not one drop of summer sweat ruined her hair or make-up before James laid eyes on her. She wanted to present herself to him looking like an irresistible prize that he would be desperate to win.
The spot Mary Jo planned to sit during dinner was just as calculated as her attire. Her chosen seat would be the one that gave James’s nose the easiest access to her perfume and his eyes a constant view of her best side. She had conversation prepared in her mind as well. As she rode along, she went over the topics in her head, smiling to herself as she imagined the way in which James would be as captivated by her intellect as he was by her beauty. Her smile broadened at the thought of his eyes lighting up upon seeing her so perfectly put together. For months, Mary Jo had obsessively fantasized about James, the way she was now. Her fantasies were sometimes unbecoming of a young debutante before being honored with marriage. But Mary Jo Parker did not care. When it came to James Adams, she felt the rules of societal etiquette were worth obliterating.
Being her father’s only child, Joseph Parker viewed Mary Jo as his most prized possession. He never once had the willpower to stop himself from giving his daughter everything she ever wanted throughout her life. Consequently, she grew up expecting everyone else to give in to her accordingly. If not, the tantrums she sometimes threw were dramatic enough to turn the head of a two-year-old in the midst of his own meltdown. She had no shame in screaming, lying, scheming, and stealing to get what she wanted. But, in the case of James Adams, Mary Jo did not just want him; she needed him, and she had no qualms about stooping to childish levels to have him. Before she resorted to such immature antics, though, Mary Jo simply tried turning herself into the most glamorous woman possible whenever she was due to be in James’s presence.
In the years while James was away at school, a string of other men had attempted to court Mary Jo. She found them all boring and visually unappealing in comparison to the man she wanted. Her desires for their company usually ceased immediately after she selfishly took the lavish gifts they bestowed upon her during their quest to win her affections. She happily took their expensive trinkets and then toyed with their emotions, and sometimes even their bodies, knowing they would never be anything more than human playthings to fulfill her boredom while she waited, impatiently, for the one man she truly desired.
In her youth, Mary Jo always had an insatiable thirst for James. But, after seeing the sculpt-worthy man he had grown into, her simple thirst was now an insatiable hunger. With months having passed since their interaction at the store, Mary Jo was now starving to be near him. It was in that state of famine that she arrived at the Adams’ plantation, hoping to finally have her voracious cravings satisfied.
Mary Jo’s carriage stopped just in front of Jesse’s rundown porch. Her father exited first, and then he helped his daughter down. Mary Jo emerged in her baby blue floor-length gown, holding onto her shawl, stepping down like a queen arriving at a ball in her honor. Her father then escorted her carefully up the steps toward Jesse, who waited near the front door.
It had been people like Jesse who had perpetuated Mary Jo’s arrogance over the years. Jesse never failed to give her and her rich father the royal treatment during their visits to his plantation. The business relationship with Joseph Parker was essential to the lining of Jesse’s pockets. Therefore, business dinner meetings with Joseph were as calculated as Mary Jo’s attire. In preparation for their arrival, Jesse always demanded a few of his field slaves to scour themselves thoroughly, dress in fine attire, and work indoors to give the appearance that a crew of cooking and cleaning house slaves was the norm in his home. Even Jesse himself managed to scrub the dirt from beneath his fingernails. He got his hair cut, found his way to a bar of soap, and stuffed himself into a clean suit. All the while his temporary house slaves were setting out his deceased wife’s finest china and preparing a five-course meal fit for a king and his princess at a Thanksgiving feast. Jesse rolled out the royal carpet for the Parker’s to walk on, right along with his dignity.
With the utmost hospitality in mind, Jesse met the Parkers at the door with his two faux butlers standing on either side of him. The two field slaves stood tall with their hands covered in white gloves, clasped in front of them. “Evenin’,” Jesse greeted, shaking Joseph’s hand. “Welcome, welcome.”
“Evenin’, Jesse. Good to see you again, ol’ friend,” Joseph responded.
“Mary Jo, y’ur lookin’ just as darlin’ as eva’,” Jesse complimented. “Hard to believe you done growed up right before my
eyes. It seems like not long ago y’ur daddy was carryin’ ya’ up these porch steps on his hip.”
Mary Jo rolled her eyes and sidestepped past Jesse faster than a pile of manure. No matter how much he scoured himself, she was disgusted by the man. She never could not understand how such a repulsive human could produce one as visually stunning as James. The perplexing thought always made her question James’s paternity. If it was not for the fine specimen of a man that Jesse had allegedly created, Mary Jo would not have even bothered to accompany her father to this meeting. It had been over five months since speaking to James in town; she was certain that he would have returned from his business travels by now. So, despite how repulsed she was by Jesse, she was not willing to pass on the opportunity to finally see James again.
Eager to lay eyes on James, Mary Jo entered the house, halted in the foyer, and casually looked around. Aside from the clinking of plates and pots in the kitchen, the house was fairly silent. She was instantly annoyed when her ears were not met with the sound of a particular voice. However, she perked up when she suddenly heard footsteps upstairs and the sound of a door closing. Deep in conversation, Joseph and Jesse breezed by her toward the dining room. Mary Jo took the moment alone to double check her appearance in the foyer mirror. She quickly smoothed out her dress and laid a few tendrils of hair neatly over her shoulders. Hoping to give James an unobstructed view of her whole body, she lingered there in the foyer, waiting on him to descend the stairs. After a few minutes there alone, though, Joseph called after her to join him in the dining room.
Mary Jo sat poised at the dinner table, trying her best not to seem too eager, but inside she was oozing with desperation. She did not care about the salad that a slave had placed in front of her or the wine that went along with it. Joseph always used such moments to groom his only child to take over the family business. Mary Jo, therefore, knew to be paying keen attention to her father’s conversational business methods. But so long as James’s chair went unoccupied, she lacked the ability to focus on anything her father was saying. She just sat there continuing to stare at the two other place settings across the table and the empty chairs behind them. As she grew more impatient, perspiration began to threaten her make-up. Just before the perspiration turned into beads of rolling sweat, though, Mary Jo finally heard the sound of two deep southern voices and footsteps stomping down the stairs. She instantly sat up taller, patted her hair, and a smile stretched across her face as her anticipation soared.
