The Stolen Marriage

by Diane Chamberlain

  “All right,” he said. “Go. I’ll call you tomorrow and give you an update on the train situation. Okay, darling?”

  I nodded as though he could see me, then stood up and set the receiver back in the cradle on the table. I was dazed, unaware of anything around me. Gina’s mother may have offered condolences. Gina herself may have come into the kitchen to ask what was wrong. I didn’t know or care. I stood there numbly, feeling sick, my heart as heavy as an anchor. My mother was gone. And it was my fault.

  15

  Vincent didn’t make it home. I should have been angry that he didn’t try harder to get a seat—or if necessary, standing room—on one of the packed trains out of Chicago, but instead I was relieved. How could I talk to him? What could I say? I was afraid if I saw him face-to-face, I would reveal too much.

  Mimi and Pop and Father Longo helped me make the arrangements for my mother’s funeral, and the church overflowed with her friends. I sat with Mimi and Pop in the front row of St. Leo’s and when I chanced to look behind us, I was overwhelmed by the sea of people. Even our milkman was there, along with the ladies from the Italian bakery on the corner, our butcher, and the nurse from our doctor’s office. All those people who had cared about my mother and who now stood ready to help me, feed me, hold me up. My throat tightened with tears, as much from this outpouring of community love as from the loss of my beautiful, too-young-to-die mother.

  People flooded our little kitchen with food that evening. There was so much ravioli, gnocchi, eggplant parmesan, and lasagna that I didn’t know what to do with it all. I crammed what I could into our small refrigerator and gave away what wouldn’t fit. Mimi stayed by my side nearly every minute, stroking my back and my hair, mothering me now that I had no mother of my own. I was so focused on my grief that I nearly forgot about the baby. About Henry. I nearly forgot about my predicament.

  The day after the funeral, our landlord stopped over to tell me my mother had been behind on our rent.

  “I hate-a to tell you tis at-a tis terrible time,” he said in his thick Italian accent, “but your mama? She owe me for two mont.”

  I was shocked. That was so unlike my responsible mother. I found her checkbook in her night table drawer and saw the reason she was in arrears. My tuition had gone up and she hadn’t told me. We never talked about finances and I felt selfish now for taking any money from her when I was twenty-three years old and should have been making my own. If I’d known the dire straits we were in, I could have dropped out of school and found a job to help out.

  I paid our landlord with eighty-two dollars from my savings account, leaving less than a hundred dollars for me to live on. I didn’t tell him I would be leaving. He owned the Russos’ house as well and I didn’t want him to tell them anything. Besides, I hadn’t heard a word from Henry and it was beginning to look like I was back to being on my own again. I imagined Henry was struggling with second thoughts about his impulsive proposal. Maybe he’d never been serious about it in the first place. I lay awake two nights in a row, trying to figure out what to do. On the third day, though, he called.

  “Sorry it’s taken me a bit to get back to you,” he said, “but I’ve managed to get a train reservation with a roomette for you for this Wednesday and we should be able to meet with the justice of the peace immediately after your arrival on Thursday. I’m not sure of the time yet, but—”

  “Henry,” I interrupted, both relieved and frankly terrified of suddenly stepping into that unfamiliar new life. “I … I can’t do it this quickly. My mother died last week and I have to deal with the house and—”

  “Your mother died?” He sounded stunned. “How terrible for you. I’m so sorry.”

  “Thank you. I know we have to … I know we should get married quickly. But it’s just me here, and I need to clean out my mother’s … things.”

  “How long will that take you?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “Maybe a week?”

  He didn’t respond right away. “Make it sooner,” he said finally. “It’s best if people think you, you know. That you conceived on our wedding night.”

  I was nearly three months along. We weren’t going to fool anyone. “I know,” I said. “I’ll hurry. I’ll do my best.”

  “Do you need money?” he asked.

  I hesitated. Yes, I needed money, but I wasn’t ready to take his. Not yet. “No, thank you,” I said. I was pleased that he offered. He was going to be someone I could count on, and right then, I needed that more than I could say.

  * * *

  Henry’s call energized me but not nearly as much as the call I received from Vincent that evening.

  “I got a ticket, finally,” he said. “I’ll be home Friday night and can stay the weekend.”

  “You don’t need to come home,” I said, panicking. “I’m doing all right and I know it’s difficult for you.”

  “No, I’m coming,” he said. “I keep picturing you going through your mother’s things alone. How hard that’s got to be. I don’t want you to be alone, honey.”

  “Your mother’s helping,” I said, which was a partial truth. Mimi wanted to help, but I was shutting her out. I couldn’t bear to have her close by any longer. I felt as though every word that came out of my mouth was a lie. Plus, I was not only emptying the house of my mother’s personal belongings, carting bags of clothing and books to the donation center at St. Leo’s. I was also emptying it of everything we owned. Everything I could carry.

  “I’m coming and that’s final,” Vincent said.

  Oh, Vincent. To see him one more time. To touch him. Wrap my arms around him. I couldn’t let it happen.

  I would have to be gone by the time he arrived.

  16

  Hickory, North Carolina

  I spotted Henry and his butter-yellow Cadillac the moment I stepped off the train into a biting cold wind. Despite the roomette, I’d slept little and my nerves were on fire as I tried to absorb the fact that, in a few short hours, I would be married.

  I’d left the letter for Vincent on the kitchen table in my nearly barren house, along with my engagement ring. I pictured him standing in the empty kitchen, reading the letter, staring at the ring. I felt his confusion. His hurt. I imagined him walking back to his own house where he would tell Mimi and Pop I was gone and wouldn’t be coming back. He would call Gina, who had promised me she would never tell him—or anyone else—where I was. The whole scenario was unbearable to think about, so I tried to wipe the images from my mind during the trip and focus on the future awaiting me in Hickory. You’re strong, I told myself as the train chugged through the bleak winter countryside. You can do this. It was the truth. I’d been strong all my life, and in spite of everything I’d been up against the past month, I’d still managed to graduate from nursing school. I would be strong now, too, for the sake of my baby. I thought about that little one, the cause of everything. The reason for everything. And for the first time in many days, I smiled to myself. You will have a daddy, I said to him, my hand resting on my belly. You will have a wonderful life. I promise.

  Henry greeted me from where he stood next to his Cadillac. He smiled his handsome smile, held my shoulders lightly, and planted a swift kiss on my cheek. “How was your trip?” he asked, lifting my suitcase from the ground and setting it in the trunk.

  “Good,” I said. “I appreciated the roomette.”

  He shut the trunk and gave me a sympathetic look. “I know it’s been a difficult week for you,” he said. “And I’m terribly sorry about your mother.”

  He was so kind. “Thank you,” I said, watching as he opened the passenger side door for me.

  “Come on.” He guided me into the car, his hand on my elbow. “Let’s go get married.”

  We drove directly from the train station to the justice of the peace’s office in an area called Union Square. For the first time, I got a good look at Hickory’s downtown and found it charming. There were shops of all variety, large and small, and the streets w
ere alive with cars, the sidewalks bustling with people. Henry found a parking place half a block from the office. I felt conspicuous as we walked that half block. We didn’t speak and we might as well have been two strangers for the lack of physical closeness between us.

  The justice of the peace was a dark-haired, dark-eyed man named Franklin Carver and it was clear from the moment we entered the reception area that he knew Henry well. He greeted him with a hearty handshake and me with a curious smile.

  “You’re a lucky girl,” he said as he ushered us into his office. “I’ve known Hank since we were five years old and can tell you for a fact that plenty of girls have wanted to get their hands on him over the years. He’s a pillar of the community.” He clapped Henry on the shoulder as he smiled at me. “There must be something very special about you to finally get this boy to settle down.”

  I squirmed with embarrassment, in way over my head. I didn’t know Hickory or those “plenty of girls,” though I imagined that Violet Dare was one of them. I didn’t know “Hank’s” history. I didn’t even really know “Hank.” But I assumed the man was paying me a compliment, so I smiled at him.

  “Thank you,” I said. I noticed his gaze dropped to my stomach. I was wearing a pale yellow skirt and matching jacket that I was certain masked any telltale bulge.

  “There’s definitely something special about Tess.” Henry rested his hand on my arm. He looked at me admiringly and I wondered for the first time if he actually did see something in me other than just my status as the mother of his child. I wasn’t sure what that could be, since he barely knew me.

  “Y’all have a seat while we wait for our witnesses—my office staff—to join us,” Franklin said as he settled in behind his desk. “You have the documents?” He looked at us as we sat down across from him. “Blood tests and medical examinations?”

  Henry reached into his jacket pocket as I reached into my handbag and we slid the papers across the desk to Franklin, watching as he gave them a cursory once-over. I’d managed to get the blood test and physical exam just in time for this trip. I’d gone to yet another unfamiliar doctor in Baltimore. This one told me I was fit to get married, “and the sooner the better.”

  Franklin leaned back in his chair, his gaze on Henry. “Things aren’t looking too good for Gaston,” he said. “Did you hear?”

  I thought this was idle chitchat between friends as we waited for Franklin’s receptionist, but Henry sat up straighter, as though the news had great meaning to him.

  “What’s happened?” he asked.

  “Byron Dare brought in a doctor who knew Loretta’s daddy. He testified that Loretta’s definitely half colored, as if it weren’t obvious enough.” He pronounced the word colored, “cuh-luhed.” It would take me a while to get used to the accent down here. “So the charge against Gaston is now fornication and adultery.” He glanced at me. “Pardon my French,” he said, and returned his gaze to Henry. “Both he and Loretta are going to land themselves in prison.”

  “They should never have come back,” Henry said.

  I looked questioningly at him.

  “Gaston Joyner’s an old friend of ours from our school days,” he said. “He fell for this colored gal and they went up North—Pennsylvania—so they could get married legally, but then they came back to North Carolina hoping to live here.”

  “Oh,” I said, trying to sound engaged in the conversation. I thought this Gaston Joyner didn’t sound very smart. First, getting mixed up with a colored girl and second, coming back to the South where they would never be welcome. I thought it was crazy that any state in the country allowed colored and white to get married in the first place. It only created problems for everyone.

  Three women, two of them gray-haired and the third about my age, walked into the room.

  “Sorry to hold you up,” the younger woman said. She nodded at Henry. “Hank,” she said in greeting. Then she looked at me. Or rather, she glowered at me. That was the only word I could think of for the expression on her face. The older women barely gave me a glance as they stood next to Mr. Carver’s desk. One of them kept glancing at her watch.

  “This is my fiancée, Tess,” Henry said to them. He rattled off the names of the older women, then turned to the one who was close to my age. “And this is Jeanetta Gill,” he said.

  “How do you do?” I said to the three of them.

  Jeanetta Gill offered a stiff smile. “So you’re marrying our Hank,” she said. Her gaze was now on my left hand where I wore the engagement ring Henry had handed me in the car on the way over.

  “Yes.” I gave her the friendliest smile I could manage. “And moving to Hickory from Baltimore. It’s a big step. I don’t know a soul here other than Henry.”

  “Well, bless your heart,” she said. “I hope you’ll find our sleepy little town to your liking.”

  I tried to hold on to my smile, but it was difficult. Her words were kind but the tone behind them was not. “I’m sure I will,” I said.

  Franklin Carver instructed us to stand in front of him while Jeanetta Gill and the other two women stood to his left, and the ceremony, such as it was, began.

  I choked up when it was time for me to say “I do.” I’d imagined this moment so many times, saying those words, looking into Vincent’s loving eyes as we faced our future together with my mother and Mimi and Pop looking on. This was so very wrong and yet I would need to make the best of it. I was marrying a pillar of the community, wasn’t I? Surely Henry was someone I could come to love.

  Henry gave me a very chaste kiss when we reached the end of the ceremony. I barely felt his dry lips on mine. That was all right. I felt awkward kissing him at all, particularly in front of the four strangers, one of whom already seemed to dislike me, for whatever reason. I wondered if I’d only feel like kissing Henry when I’d had too much to drink. How I was going to make it through our wedding night, I didn’t know.

  17

  After the wedding, Henry drove us to the Hotel Hickory, where he’d reserved the honeymoon suite. We would spend the night in the hotel. Tomorrow, he’d take me to his house, where I would meet his mother and Lucy and figure out how to fit into this family. I should have guessed by the fact that neither his mother nor Lucy came to our wedding ceremony that it wasn’t going to be easy.

  We had dinner in the hotel’s restaurant. The maître d’ led us to a table by the window, and although it was dark outside and our view was only of the streetlights and passing cars, I had the feeling the table was the best in the house. Henry ordered filet mignon and potatoes for both of us. As he had at that restaurant in Washington, Henry had managed to get steak despite the war rationing, and our meal was another reminder that he was no ordinary citizen. But it didn’t matter what was on my plate. Nerves had stolen my appetite. I nibbled small bites of the meat while I studied Henry’s face, trying to get it into my head that he was now my husband. Was this how Mimi felt when she married Pop? Strange and uncertain and scared of the future?

  “How did your mother and sister react when you told them you were getting married?” I asked as I cut another tiny morsel from my steak.

  Henry looked away from me, a small, hard-to-read smile on his face. “I won’t sugarcoat it, Tess,” he said. “They aren’t happy. Mama has always wanted me to marry a particular girl in town and now her plans for my future have taken an unexpected turn.”

  “Violet Dare?” I ventured, and his eyes widened in surprise.

  “How could you possibly…” His voice trailed off.

  “The boy who drove me to the train station in your Cadillac,” I said. “Mickey? He said Violet Dare was engaged to you. Or at least, she expected to be engaged to you.”

  His smile was dismissive. “She’s a dreamer,” he said, cutting a bite of meat.

  “Did you want to marry her? Have I broken something up?”

  He hesitated, then drew in a long breath and let it out as a sigh, setting down his knife and fork, which, I’d noticed, he used easily desp
ite his missing fingers. “No, you haven’t broken anything up,” he said. “But some people may think you have.”

  I thought of the woman who had treated me so coolly in Franklin Carver’s office.

  “Jeanetta Gill,” I said.

  He nodded. “She’s one of Violet’s friends, yes,” he said. “I’m afraid Violet has many friends.” It sounded like a warning. “And Mama … she was understandably shocked when I told her I was marrying you. I told her I met you on a trip to Washington and that we’ve known each other for quite some time and finally decided to make the move, so let’s keep to that story, all right?”

  I nodded.

  “Mama can be a difficult person,” he added, “and I’m sorry we’ll have to live with her until the house is built.”

  Oh no. This was the first time he’d mentioned his mother being difficult. “And your sister?” I asked.

  He picked up his knife and fork again and cut into his steak. “Lucy is a spoiled princess,” he said before slipping a bite of meat into his mouth.

  “Did she want you to marry Violet, too?”

  He looked out the window into the darkness as he chewed and swallowed. “Everyone expected me to marry Violet,” he admitted. “All of Hickory.” He gave me a determined look. “They will all just have to get used to the idea that it’s not going to happen.”

  “Were you officially engaged?” I really needed to know where I stood in this town.

  “No.” He looked at me. “I don’t love her, Tess. I never did love her. I can assure you of that.”

  “Then why would everyone expect you to marry her?”

  He shrugged. “The right age. Right social status. Right family connections. Her father is the district attorney, and—”