All the Days Past, All the Days to Come

by Mildred D. Taylor

“Most of it. I’ll arrive a day or two after they come. That’s my plan.”

  Stacey nodded his approval. At least I had that much from him. “We got sleeper berths for them on the train. Cost more, but Christopher-John, Man, and I figured them to be comfortable.”

  “That’s good,” I said. I was looking forward to the trip to Toledo. It was the first time Mama and Papa would be in Toledo together. They had always said one of them had to stay at home with Big Ma to take care of the animals and the land. As for Big Ma, this was her first time traveling north. The train would be segregated as far as Chicago, where they would change trains for Toledo. At least with the sleeper berths, they would get a good night’s sleep. Maynard and Levis had said they would take care of the house and the animals while they were away. “I want to pay my share for the tickets and the berths. For Maynard and Levis taking care of the place too.”

  Stacey shrugged. “Up to you.”

  I didn’t like his tone. “You left me out of it?”

  “Didn’t think you wanted to be in it.”

  “Well, last time I looked I am still part of this family.”

  “Well, you could’ve fooled me.”

  I gave him a look. “Now what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Sometimes, Cassie, you don’t act like it.”

  Stacey set his empty cup on the table and leaned forward in his chair, an elbow on each knee. “You know how long it’s been since you’ve been home, Cassie? Not just Toledo, but really down home?”

  “Oh, please, don’t get into that again.”

  “Can’t help but get into it.”

  “You know my work—”

  “Two years.”

  “I’ve been busy,” I said. I knew it was a weak defense.

  “Yeah, I know,” Stacey said. “Busy living a life that has nothing to do with where you’re from.”

  “Now, wait just a minute—”

  “Think about it. Think about just how long it’s been since you’ve seen Mama and Papa and Big Ma. I think one of the main reasons they are coming is so they can see all of us gathered in one place. They’re not getting any younger, you know—”

  “None of us are,” I retorted.

  Stacey ignored my comment. “Rest of us go down couple times a year. You haven’t shown your face down there for two years.”

  “Don’t get on me about that. They understand about this law business and what it takes for me to deal with it. I write them every month and send them something too.”

  “Well, I’m sure they appreciate all that, but you haven’t been home. Why is that, Cassie?”

  “Go ahead and tell me, you seem to think you know so much.”

  “Because I figure you’re doing something you don’t want them to know about.”

  I raised my hands in exasperation. “All I’ve been trying to do is make a living and do what I’m supposed to do as a lawyer. You know it’s not easy.”

  “Never was supposed to be. You knew that going in.”

  “Yeah, I knew, all right. But I did it, didn’t I? I got my degree. I passed the bar. Now I’m just trying to live my life.”

  “Without us?”

  I sighed, shook my head, got up, and went over to the window. I pushed back the curtain and stared at the snow-covered street below. Boston was not yet awake. No one was on the street.

  “You need to come home,” Stacey said again.

  I rubbed my forehead and tried to calm myself. The lawyer in me did not want to say the wrong words, even to my brother. I turned back to him. “I’ll need to think on it, call Lawyer Tate, see what he thinks about the situation Moe’s in.”

  Stacey didn’t say anything.

  I decided not to discuss it any further right now. “You must be tired, what with that long drive. I can make up the sofa.”

  Stacey nodded wearily. “All right.”

  “You want something to eat first? I can fix something.”

  “No. Just sleep. Come Sunday morning early, I need to head back to Toledo.”

  “You’ve got to leave that soon?”

  “You know how it is, Cassie. Got to be at work come Monday morning. You’ll have all day Saturday to make up your mind about whether you’re going back with me or not. Just remember, Moe’s life is on the line.”

  I stared at Stacey and he stared back. I looked away first and headed for the closet. “I’ll get your bedding,” I said. “Bathroom’s down the hall.”

  * * *

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  Stacey slept until midmorning. When he woke I cooked breakfast and we sat down to eat together. As we ate, Stacey looked around the room. “I like your place, Cassie,” he said. I smiled, pleased to have his approval. I loved this room. It was large and open with the kitchen at one end and the living area at the other. There was no fireplace, but that didn’t matter. It was an older building with thick walls and high-quality wood, and the living room/kitchen had ceiling-to-floor windows that lined most of its eastern wall. The bedroom, down a short hallway off the living area, was small and so was the bathroom, but it was the expansive space of the great room that had immediately attracted me to the apartment. A sofa, draped with one of Big Ma’s handmade quilts, a comfortable chair, a coffee table, and a desk, all bought secondhand, were in the living area. A round dining table made of pine with four matching chairs, and a smaller oblong kitchen table without chairs, which sat directly in front of the kitchen counter, were at the other end of the room.

  I had painted the far end of the living area wall a brilliant orange and hung drums and spears and African paintings. The other walls I had left the original Navajo white, but above the kitchen cabinets I had hung an assortment of brightly colored African baskets. The wall opposite the windows was divided by the entry door to the apartment. On the living room side of the door hung Native American rugs, which I had bought with Flynn, as well as other items I had collected while in the West. On the kitchen side of the wall were family photographs. At the center was an enlarged photograph of Grandpa Paul-Edward and Big Ma standing with all their sons in front of our house in 1901, shortly after it was built. Surrounding it were photographs of Mama and Papa, of Dee and the girls, of the family on Dorr Street, and of the boys and me taken before Clayton Chester and Christopher-John went overseas. The only photograph that wasn’t there was one of Flynn. I kept his image forever engraved in my mind and my heart. Each morning as I sat at the table drinking my coffee with sunlight flooding the wall or when a winter’s day darkened the room, I always felt warmth from that wall of family photographs. It kept the family with me, and I was glad I could share it with Stacey.

  We stayed at the table talking for more than two hours. We had much catching up to do. Stacey did not press me on going back with him. Both of us had decided to give that decision a rest until later. Earlier I had called Lawyer Tate but was unable to reach him. After breakfast, Stacey said he was going to gas up the car and also have a mechanic look under the hood. He had heard a pinging noise on his way here. He also said he wanted to walk around a bit before dark and get a better look at Boston. He had been here only once before and that was for my graduation. He asked me to come along, but I declined. I had legal papers to study and I wanted to call Lawyer Tate again. When Stacey was gone I sat at my desk to study cases, though I could hardly keep my mind on them. Shortly after Stacey left, there was a knock on the apartment door and I figured it was Stacey coming back for something.

  But it wasn’t Stacey. It was Guy.

  “Hey, beautiful,” Guy said, and handed me a bouquet of mixed flowers accented with baby’s breath. He bent his head toward mine and kissed me lightly on the lips and pushed past me into the room. He was carrying a large bag of groceries with a couple of French baguettes poking out the top.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, closing the door. “I thought you’d be in Brewster throu
gh tomorrow.”

  Guy went straight to the kitchen table and set the bag on it. “Client changed his mind. Got him to settle this morning. I couldn’t do without you and came back soon as I could.” He came over to me. “Miss me?” he asked. He slipped his arms around my waist, pulled me to him, and kissed me again, this time without hurry. I allowed the kiss, then pulled away. Guy took off his coat and tossed it on the sofa. “Thought we could have the rest of the weekend together.”

  I gave him a placid smile as I went to the table and checked the bag of groceries. “Seems like you’ve got quite a weekend planned.”

  “Look further,” said Guy.

  I did. There were paper-wrapped packages of steak and frozen lobsters. There were potatoes and asparagus and fruit, lemons, strawberries and blueberries, and a pineapple. Two bottles of wine were also in the bag.

  “And guess what?” Guy went on. “I’m going to do all the cooking. You don’t have to lift a finger.” He came to the table and again slipped his arms around me.

  I allowed him to hold me, but after a moment I said, “It’s not going to happen.”

  Guy nuzzled his face close to my ear. “What? What’s not going to happen? This dinner? Oh, I think it is.”

  “No . . . it’s not. . . . My brother’s here.”

  Guy immediately released me. “What?”

  “You heard me. Stacey came last night. Actually early this morning, like about three o’clock.”

  Guy took a step backward. “Were you expecting him?”

  “Don’t you think I would have told you if I were?”

  “He came without letting you know? Why is he here?”

  “A friend of ours is in trouble and Stacey wants me to go back with him on Sunday to help him.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  I hesitated, reluctant to go into it. As much as I trusted Guy, I had never told him about Moe or his flight from Mississippi and why he had to run. “Look, I don’t have time to talk about it now. You have to go.”

  Guy was silent, then shook his head. “I want to meet your brother, Cassie. He’s got to know sometime. They all do.”

  I stared at him. “But not today.”

  “Today is as good a day as any.”

  “I don’t think so. I wasn’t planning on any of this, and I’m not ready for you to meet my brother—”

  “Would you ever be ready?”

  “Look, Guy—”

  “Would you ever be ready for me to meet any of them?”

  I put my hands up. “I told you I don’t want to talk about this right now, and I do not want a fight about it. You need to understand, I can’t deal with your being here and Stacey too. You need to go.”

  “No, I think I’ll stay,” Guy said quietly, then went to a cabinet and pulled out a large pot.

  I was angry, but I didn’t want to fight with him. I just wanted him out of here. He couldn’t meet Stacey, but when Guy got stubborn like this, it was hard to dissuade him. I left Guy in the kitchen and went to the bedroom. I sat on the bed, pulled my legs up against my chest, and slumped my head against them. I was shaking. I was not ready for this.

  * * *

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  I stayed in the room for more than an hour, expecting Guy to come in to say he was leaving; he didn’t. I smelled cooking. I glanced outside. The winter sky was almost dark. I got up and went into the living room. Guy was at the kitchen stove, stirring something in the skillet. The lobster pot was on the stove and steaming. A smaller pot was opposite it. Guy glanced over at me and smiled. “Still here, I see,” I said.

  He nodded in affirmation. “Still here.”

  I went to the stove and stood beside him. He had minced the garlic and onions and was stirring them in butter along with oregano. “Smells good,” I admitted.

  “Already got the potatoes ready to go into the oven. The steak is seasoned, ready to broil. Pot here has all the spices and some butter ready for the lobster, and the asparagus is ready for a quick dip. Hollandaise sauce is waiting on the asparagus.”

  “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble.”

  “Why not? Special dinner for a special lady.”

  I walked away. “It won’t be special, not with my brother here. It’ll be a disaster.”

  “No need for it to be,” Guy said, turning off the fire and removing the skillet and setting it on the counter. “I’m sure he’s a reasonable man.”

  “You don’t know my brother, not when it comes to matters like this. You have no idea.”

  Guy looked at me, then covered the skillet. He wiped his hands on a towel and came over to me. He put his hands on my shoulders. “Then you tell me,” he said.

  “There’s not time. Stacey will be back soon.”

  Guy took my hand. “Cassie, talk to me.”

  “I told you before, Guy, I really want you to go. Please do that for me. I really want you out of here before Stacey gets back.”

  “You feel that strongly about it?”

  “Thought I made that clear.”

  Guy looked away, then back again. “Cassie, what do you want for us?”

  “Right now, Guy, there is no us.”

  “I suppose not. Not until you face up to your family and your feelings.”

  “Will you please go? Do this one thing for me.”

  “This one thing.” Guy looked at me long, sighed, then went to the sofa and got his coat.

  “And you might as well take some of this food with you.”

  Guy glanced at the food-laden table. “No, Cassie. I brought it for you. It stays. Maybe your brother will enjoy it. Hope you will too.” He headed for the door, but before his hand was on the knob, there was a knock.

  “Oh, Lord,” I moaned. I knew it was Stacey.

  Guy opened the door.

  Stacey stood in the hallway. He looked from Guy to me in silence. Guy extended his hand. “You must be Stacey, Cassie’s brother. I’m Guy Hallis. I work with your sister at the law office.”

  Stacey looked again at Guy, then hesitantly shook his hand.

  “I was just leaving,” said Guy. “Brought by some paperwork for Cassie from the office. Also brought in a little food for you and Cassie from the corner store after I heard you were here. I knew Cassie would probably be too busy to go grocery shopping, what with all the casework she has this weekend. Well, I’ve got to run.” Guy glanced back at me. “See you at the office Monday, Cassie.” Turning back to Stacey, he said, “Nice to meet you, Stacey. Hope we get a chance to talk next time you’re here.” Stacey did not respond as Guy slipped out the doorway and past him. Stacey remained in the hallway, staring after him.

  “Well, are you coming in?” I asked, and returned to the kitchen table.

  Stacey came into the room and closed the door behind him. I glanced at him as he stood silent by the door, then occupied myself with the food still to be cooked. “You get everything done you wanted?”

  Stacey came over to the table. “Gassed up. Got the car checked. Did a little shopping for Dee. I’m set to go.”

  “Good,” I said, keeping myself busy and my look directed at the table.

  Stacey watched me. “Looks like quite a feast here.”

  I nodded. “Lobster. Steak. Potatoes.”

  Stacey picked up one of the wine bottles, looked it over, and set it down. “Uh-huh, quite a feast.”

  His mood was darkening. I tried to dispel it. “Remember when we went to see Uncle Hammer and that was the first time we had lobster? And Uncle Hammer and Aunt Loretta said we needed to have some prime rib with it too. One of the best meals I can remember.”

  “This white man know about all that?”

  I stopped my busywork. “Look, Stacey, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but—”

  “Cassie, you know perfectly well what I’m thinking. No man bri
ngs over this kind of food to a woman unless something’s going on.”

  “Maybe what’s going on is a friend caring enough to provide some food for another friend and her brother.”

  “And this is what he chose to bring? Did you ask him to bring it? Did you pay him for it?”

  “No, it’s just what he brought. Stacey, I’ve known Guy since law school. He was in my group that went overseas. We work in the same law firm. He’s a good and considerate person. He wanted us to have this dinner.”

  Stacey stared at me, then said, “Are you going to Toledo with me?”

  “I thought I had until tomorrow to decide.”

  “Did you reach Lawyer Tate?”

  “No, not yet—”

  “Are you going back or not? Give me your answer.”

  I placed my hands flat on the table and took a moment before replying. “I can’t give you an answer right now, Stacey, and I won’t let you pressure me into giving you one. I still want to talk to Lawyer Tate first. I’ve got a lot going on here—”

  “Yes, I can see.”

  “And just what do you mean by that?” I was no longer sounding apologetic.

  “Cassie, you know exactly what I mean.”

  I rounded the table to face Stacey close up. “Look, Stacey, this is my life here. I have friends, and not every one of them is colored. A lot of people in Boston have been good to me, and not every one of them is colored either. I haven’t done anything wrong, so don’t come judging me on anything.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Which one you want me to answer? Your first question or all your insinuations?”

  “Are you going back with me?”

  I took a deep breath. I didn’t like Stacey putting me in this position. I put my hands on my hips and, defiantly, I issued an adamant “No.” Without another word Stacey turned, walked over, and picked up his suitcase from behind the sofa. My arms slipped to my sides. “What are you doing?”

  “Going back to Toledo.”

  “But . . . you said you were going to stay until Sunday!”

  “What’s the point? I came to get you. You said you’re not going with me. I leave now I can be back with Dee and the girls before morning.”