The Coach House (44 page)
“What all did Beatrix say to you?” Karen asked.
“She told me how sorry they were to see me leave him; that they thought I was good for him. I asked her if she knew the types of people he associated with, and she said she did. She told me he comes into the restaurant looking like a lost soul. She asked me if I would ever come back to him.”
“What did you say?”
“I told her I fell in love with one man, and he turned out to be someone much different, someone I couldn’t live with.”
Karen studied her face. “Marie…do you miss him?”
Marie didn’t answer.
* * *
The following week Marie took a day off from work to see
Pinky.
Pinky
was a movie about a light-skinned colored woman who returns to her grandmother’s house in the South after graduating from a Northern nursing school. She tells her grandmother that she has been “passing” for white while at school and has fallen in love with a young white doctor who knows nothing about her Negro heritage. She tells her grandmother that she plans to return to the North to continue her relationship with the doctor, but Granny shames the confused Pinky into staying in order to treat an ailing white woman, Miss Em.
Pinky nurses Miss Em who helps Pinky learn not to deny her true self. She also leaves Pinky her property when she dies. Pinky’s doctor boyfriend wants her to resume her former life and marry him, but in the end, she refuses and decides to use the house and land she inherited to develop a clinic and nursery school in Miss Em’s name.
Don’t deny your true self.
The words echoed in Marie’s head.
She stopped by Karen’s on her way home to discuss the movie.
“So what did you get from it?” Karen asked.
“The moral of the story was you shouldn’t try to be something you’re not, but what bothers me is that Pinky lost out on love that she wouldn’t likely ever have being true to herself. Is that selfish of me to think that way?”
“No, I don’t think so. Everyone wants to have love in their life.” Karen paused. “At least once.”
“You know what else I couldn’t help notice? Pinky was really a Negro but still portrayed as an intelligent woman. I’ve never seen that before in film.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think about the movies you’ve seen with colored people in them. Look at
Gone With The Wind.
All the colored people are portrayed as hapless servants who mispronounce words, making them appear stupid. Or the Shirley Temple movies, like the one with the tap dancing house servant. But Pinky wasn’t portrayed that way, and I think the only reason was because she looked white.”
“I’m not sure I know what you’re getting at.”
“Maybe I don’t either, but you can bet the filmmakers are white. We’re the ones responsible for making Negroes look bad in some respects.”
“Or maybe they’re just mimicking what goes on in real life.”
Marie didn’t know how she felt about Karen’s last statement. Did she think Negroes were stupid, too?
She thought more about the movie on her way home, in particular Pinky’s incredible journey through racial identity. While her situation was somewhat different from Pinky’s, Marie could envision a similar quest in search of her own identity. She cringed at the way the movie stereotyped Negroes as lazy, uneducated people who accepted the condescending way they were treated by whites—all the civil humiliations, abuse, and double standards.
Is it really that bad?
At one point in her life, Pinky was ashamed of her heritage and vowed never to go back home. But the longer she held that frame of mind, the more she didn’t understand herself. Marie could relate to that. It was when Pinky finally reached the point where she accepted who she was and no longer denied her true identity that Marie wished for more of a connection.
When she got home, Julia called her to tell her she had accepted a delivery for her earlier in the day. Her jaw dropped when she saw what it was. There, in Julia’s kitchen, was Flora’s treadle sewing machine and the two suitcases she had packed when she had decided to leave Richard.
“Who delivered these, Julia?”
“He didn’t give me his name. Drove up in a plain white van. You weren’t expecting them?”
“Well, yes and no. The sewing machine and the suitcases
are
mine, but…what did the driver look like?”
“Short, round, and not very well groomed, shall we say? Came to the door with a gawd awful cigar dangling out of his mouth.”
The next day, Marie went to Lulu’s for breakfast. She sat in the back, hoping she didn’t run into anyone she knew. She needed to be out, but she also needed to be alone. Actually, she didn’t know what she wanted. When she was home, thoughts of Jonathan Brooks, her mother, and Richard were more than she could handle at one time. Being out was a welcome distraction.
Jonathan Brooks was her father. The picture in her mother’s box full of memories proved it.
My father is a Negro. I am part Negro.
She still didn’t know what that meant. She desperately wanted to talk to her mother about it. She couldn’t stop wondering why she never told her. She looked at the other patrons.
Here I am sitting here like nothing is wrong, and I have this huge secret hanging over my head.
And now she knew for sure Richard knew where she lived. She wondered if she could ever get far enough away from him. But running was out of the question.
A strong person wouldn’t keep running. A strong person would confront their fears.
The sound of someone clearing his throat caught her attention. She looked up to see Richard standing just a few feet from her table. She hadn’t seen him since he showed up at the airport at the end of her and Karen’s San Francisco trip, five months earlier. She closed her eyes and sighed. There was no way of avoiding him without causing a scene.
“May I join you?”
She held her breath.
He sat down. “You look beautiful as usual.”
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Lulu came over and asked Richard if she could get him anything.
“Just coffee.”
She looked at Marie and mouthed, “Everything okay?”
Marie nodded.
She felt confident. “What is it, Richard? Let’s get this over with.”
“We need to talk. Can we go somewhere where it’s more private?”
Marie looked around the dining room. No one was so close they could overhear what they were saying. “We can talk here.”
She hadn’t seen him up close since the encounter at the Atchison police station a little over a year earlier. He hadn’t changed—still disturbingly handsome with eyes that could penetrate the impenetrable.
She leaned in toward him, her forearms resting on the table. “Go ahead.”
Richard sat back in his chair and stared at her several seconds before speaking. “You’re still beautiful, you know that?”
“You already said that.”
“I never meant to hurt you, Marie.” His voice was low, calm, and confident. “I hope above all else, you realize that.”
She barely breathed while he spoke.
“Say something.”
“This is your meeting. I have nothing to say to you.”
He glanced at her tapping finger. “You’re uptight. What happened to that easy-going carefree girl I married?” He flashed a smile. She couldn’t help but notice he was still wearing his wedding band.
She sat up a little straighter. “Can you just get on with it?”
He looked deep into her eyes in a way she hadn’t forgotten. “I still love you,” he whispered. He didn’t take his eyes off of her. When she didn’t respond, he sighed and looked past her for a few seconds. Then he leveled his gaze back on her face. “You’re making this hard on both of us, sweetheart.”
She lowered her arms to beneath the tabletop and wrung her hands in her lap. “Please don’t call me that. I’m not your sweetheart anymore.”
“But I want you to be, and if you’d just be honest with yourself, you’d admit that you want that, too.”
Marie shook her head slightly, not sure where he was going with this.
“Let’s face it, Marie. You can’t make it with anyone else. And, well, for different reasons, neither can I.”
She held her head high and waited for him to continue.
“You know I’m right.”
“I know nothing of the kind.”
He leaned forward. “It’s been a year and a half. Come back home.”
She felt herself caving but refused to give in to it.
How can someone be so cunning and charming at the same time?
“It’s not safe there.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your so-called business associates. They’re nothing but a bunch of gangsters.”
Richard laughed. “No they’re not.” He paused. “At least not serious ones.”
“Richard, I heard what they said after you pushed me down the stairs.”
Richard’s eyes lit up. “What are you talking about? I never pushed you down the stairs.”
“You sure did!” It was hard to keep her voice low and yell at the same time. “You should have seen the cuts and bruises I received from that fall!”
“Marie, I swear to God I didn’t know you fell down the stairs. I figured when I closed the basement door you just ran down the stairs and climbed out the window.”
“I didn’t
just fall,
Richard. You pushed me!”
“I didn’t push you,” he said, shaking his head. “I would never have intentionally hurt you.”
“Either way, I heard what they said.”
“Marie, they were nothing but a bunch of two-bit wannabes acting like big shots. Do you think for one minute someone really important from the Outfit or any other gang would meet at my house?”
“Our house.” She tried not to allow what he was saying to obfuscate her fear of how deeply he was really involved.
Richard shook his head. “Well, whatever happened to you, it was my fault. I’ll admit that.” He paused. “Look, things have changed, Marie. I haven’t been involved in that kind of activity for a long time.” He reached out for her hands. She pulled them back and put them back in her lap. “Everything’s different now. Come back to Chicago, to
our
home, and let’s start over. Everything will be like it was when we first got married. I promise.” He paused. “And if the problem is that you’re scared, I’ll be there to protect you. I’ll always be there to protect you.”
“What was in the boxes that day?”
“What boxes?”
“The big brown boxes in our living room. The day you pushed me down the stairs.”
Richard pursed his lips and stared past Marie for several seconds. “I don’t remember. Just business I guess.”
“If it’s just business, why can’t you tell me?”
“Because I don’t remember.”
“Mm-hm.”
“Look, it probably wasn’t on the up and up. And anyway, it’s better you don’t know.”
“One of your so-called friends thinks I
do
know.”
“I straightened that all out. They just got excited when you walked in. They have wives, too, you know. They know you don’t know anything.”
“Well, I can’t be sure of that.”
“Look, I may have made some bad choices when we were together, but I did it for you, for us. I wanted you to have everything.” He paused. “And you did have everything. But you never got that, did you?”
She didn’t appreciate the touch of sarcasm in his voice and rose up from her chair. “I’ve heard enough.” She scooted her chair back getting ready to leave.
Richard placed his hand on her arm. “I’m not done.”
Marie looked around the room to see if anyone was watching and then withdrew her arm. She sat back down so as not to draw attention.
“Here’s the deal. You come back home to me, and Jonathan can live happily ever after with that nice little family of his…with his little horse business all intact and…”
He knew about Jonathan.
“And what?” Her heart pounded high up in her chest.