The Wilful Daughter (15 page)

But not tonight. He was still cold from that hand that reached out of nowhere. He covered himself and quickly fell asleep. He dreamed he was courting Lanney. He dreamed he was dancing at June’s wedding though he did not see the groom.

CHAPTER SEVEN

She was not sleepy in the least, but dreaming awake. The sky was filled with stars and she wondered if it was really true that if you wished upon one your wish might come true.

Minnelsa had placed many wishes on the stars in her youth, but her youth was gone. John Wood had given her youth reason. She had wished for him to want to marry her and he had said he wanted to, but could not on his professor’s salary. She had wished her father had not gone to the trouble of keeping John’s death from her but he claimed he wanted to save her the grief. “Besides,” he had told her, “That boy had no right to look at any man’s daughter if he has sired a son by someone else.”

Most of all she wished she had been strong enough, independent enough to defy her father when it came to John Wood, but she hadn’t. One wish on a star had come true.

Now there was Peter.

She climbed out of the bed and opened the window to look into the night. She turned to make sure she had not disturbed Fawn who was probably dreaming of her insurance salesman. Each day Fawn, Jewel and Rosa wanted to know if the Piano Man was any closer to proposing.

She would tell them: “This isn’t the time yet. We’ve only known each other for four weeks.”

But each moment of those four weeks he had spent being devoted to her. The man brought her flowers, played her music and spent time with her father. All of this he told her was to please her.

Some evenings, when the sisters were in the sewing room, and June was studying in her room-she had taken to her books with such fervor lately-and papa was in the study reading with Willie, the Piano Man would ask her to sit next to him on the stool as he played. Or he’d take her outside and they’d stand beneath one of the peach trees and he’d tell her about the stars.

At first she hadn’t let on that everything he knew about the constellations she had known for years. The stars had been her only friends on the lonely nights when she was parted from John Woods. She knew about the constellations for she had gone to books to learn about her nocturnal companions. That’s what her loneliness had done for her: sent her to the science teacher at the college to ask him about the stars.

Like any man he assumed that she was trying to get him interested in her. The gangly professor had leaned over her. “Perhaps we could look tomorrow night and I could show you the Taurus Constellation.” He pointed to a group of bright stars. “I could call on you. Or, if you’d like,” he moved closer to her, “we could meet at. . . ”

“
I believe you are wrong, Professor.” She moved away from him. “This is Orion’s Belt. Not Taurus and I don’t think you are likely to see that constellation anytime soon according to this book.” He watched as she pointed out how wrong he was. Finally he loaned her books to read and gave up his feeble pursuit.

The previous week she let it slip that she knew more about the stars than Peter could imagine. Now she spent nights showing him warriors battling in the sky, dragons breathing fire, chariots rushing across the heavens. She knew each group, each legend and myth. Bathed in moonlight she told him tales that old people told her about the Drinking Gourd, what the slaves called the Big Dipper, and how the masters didn’t understand it. She even sung the song she learned for him after much teasing and pleading. While the Piano Man held her shaking hand she looked up at the sky singing very close to his ear:

“
Follow the drinking gourd

Follow the drinking gourd

For the old man is awaiting

For to carry you to Freedom

Follow the drinking gourd.”

When she had finished he told her: “You have such a sweet voice. Soft and loving. A voice that’s soft enough to make the meanest man sleep.” Then he kissed her. Not just on the cheek, but full on the lips for the very first time.

She wanted to break away, to look around to see if more than the stars were watching but she felt relaxed is his arms. The kiss made her think of music, his music. And for days after she hummed the tune around the house until June, sick of hearing it, said: “If you gonna hum something, hum something happy. Not that old slave tune. Sweet Jesus, Minnelsa, it’s so depressing.”

She had stopped humming it but not thinking about it. If she had wished for a better suitor, she would not have gotten one. In fact she hadn’t had a real one since John.

He found a reason to kiss her each night after that. Each kiss was different, not like the first. After each one she found an excuse not to dwell in the moment.

“
How are you getting along with the church members?” she asked as she pulled away from him.

Peter smiled. “Wonderfully. People here are so nice to me. Unfortunately I have been invited to many of their homes for supper. Many of the women, as you probably know, are not married.”

“
You turned them down?” she asked as she gazed at the stars, pretending that even though he was the handsomest man she had ever seen it wouldn’t bother her if he ate with other women.

“
Of course.” He would slip his hand onto her shoulder. “I tell them I am spoken for.”

She turned to him and allowed him to kiss her again.

“
And the students at the college? I understand they love your way of teaching.” She had pulled away again.

“
Well, I’ve already got the choir in shape. I try to use a gentle hand.” He slipped his into hers, not kissing her again but holding it there in a gentle way.

Now she looked up in the sky at a hazy cluster of stars. One star shone brighter than others. She had not noticed this star before so she decided to wish on it.

“
Star bright, star light, first star I see tonight. I need Peter.” Then she whispered: “I am not sure if that is why I love him or if the need has turned into love. I am old and in need of someone to touch me again in body and soul. John, you would like Peter. He’s brilliant and he treats me well. John, please forgive me. I thought I would never love another. Please let him love me.”

All she had to do now was wait for him to ask her to marry him.

Waiting was hard, but she knew it would happen. It was now early October and if he asked her soon perhaps they could wed before Christmas.

“
Perhaps Papa and Mama won’t approve of such a short courtship,” Rosa told her one night.

“
She could tell them she doesn’t have much time,” Fawn said as she brushed her oldest sister’s hair. June sat on the side of the bed brushing Jewel’s.

“
She can say she’s an old maid.”

“
June, whatever made you say that.” Jewel almost got hit in the head with the brush as she turned.

“
You can be so mean sometimes,” Fawn growled.

“
If she’s trying to get papa to do something she wants she’s got to convince him why he should do it.”

The others were about to jump on their youngest sister when Minnelsa said: “June has a point. I want to marry and have babies of my own. Every day I wait is too long. I’m not a child like June. Long courtships are for woman who are young. . .”

“
So, you only want the Piano Man.” Rosa smiled at her sister.

Minnelsa nodded and Fawn, Jewel and Rosa giggled.

“
Now all you have to do is get him to ask you.” It was the only thing June said they could all agree with.

Minnelsa wished on the star that sparkled the brightest. A new star that appeared in her sky. She wished aloud so it might come true.

“
Make him ask me. Make him marry me soon.” As she turned to go to bed something caught her eye. Out in the dark running barefoot across the yard was a woman in red. Long black hair flowing as she ran. Minnelsa watched as she ran down the street quickly like a fiery fairy. She closed her eyes hoping this was her imagination. When she opened them the woman was gone.

Mama would say it was a sign. Women in red dresses were always trouble.

It’s nothing more than a dream. No woman, no red dress. Just a dream.

She covered herself and went to sleep humming: “For the old man is awaiting for to carry you to freedom . . .”

* * *

While her sister wished upon stars on one side of the house, June tossed and turned on the other.

“
He belongs to me. I saw him first. He saw me and wanted me.” The song Minnelsa had been humming for days flowed through her head. “I hate that song.”

June could no longer pretend to sleep. She got up, went to the box beneath her bed and pulled out her red dress.

She gave herself a long look in the dresser mirror with the dress before her. She was young and beautiful. She had more to offer than some spinster who had spent her whole life bowing to her father. She ran her hands over the beads of the dress and the curves of her body. The feeling excited her. June knew what she had to do.

She brushed her hair and touched her lips with a dab of the dark red color she hid in the box beneath her bed. She had sat with the spinsters and brushed their hair. She had been one of the sisters tonight and all had been fine until Minnelsa revealed she only wanted the Piano Man.

“
Tonight I will not stay here any longer. Tonight I will not be one of you.” Then she remembered: “Mama said I could have any man.”

June only wanted one man. She had to have him.

And for him she ran into the night.

“
I let her think she had a suitor, Willie. It was the least I could do.” She sat on Willie’s bed after the sisters had brushed their hair and said goodnight. “One of my professors said the trouble with youth is we think we have all the time in the world.”

“
What does that mean?” a tired Willie had asked.

“
Time is up. It’s time for him to stop courting Minnelsa and start courting me.”

“
Oh God.” Willie turned away from her. “Are you starting that again?”

“
I don’t need to be courted by him. I need to be with him.”

“
He’s with Minnelsa. He wants to be with Minnelsa.”

“
That’s what everybody thinks, but Willie they are wrong.”

He turned back to her and grabbed her with a large strong hand. “Think June. You have never kissed him. He’s kissing. . .”

“
I know what it is like,” June said and her brother sighed. “And Willie, you’re wrong. Peter did look at me when he came to call.”

“
I give up. Drive yourself crazy. He looks at everybody. He looks at me.” He slid down in his bed and under the covers.

Once when she had been serving dinner and no one was looking at her, thinking only of Minnelsa and Minnelsa’s suitor, she had served him some corn and had almost dropped the cob to the floor. His smooth long fingers had grabbed her wrist and one finger gently stroked her palm as he assisted her.

She had looked at him with vague curiosity and he had smiled back. A friendly smile. Not unlike the ones he gave her as she danced and shimmied in front of him, to his music and for him, at Emma’s. At the dinner table that night he did not let her hand go immediately.

Tonight as he had played a piano composition he had written himself, June had taken her studies in her room, separating herself from the family who knew he was going to marry her oldest sister. They thought the youngest of the Blacksmith’s daughters had become a good student at last, immersed in her studies.

They talked about the Piano Man at school a great deal, the girls who wished they were going to Morris Brown so they could see the new music instructor. The boys from Morehouse said that he was courting more than her old maid sister. They said there were younger girls flocking to his classes and almost throwing themselves at him. They are jealous, she thought. He is the most handsome man. He has what they lack: class, position, fame.

“
He belonged to me the first night I saw him, Willie. I know that. But how do I get him back?”

Brother laughed sleepily. “Just walk into the parlor and say: ‘Papa this man loves me. Since I first met him at Emma’s Juke joint he has loved me. He’s just stringing Minnelsa along.’”

June frowned. “Willie, I didn’t know you could be so mean. That wouldn’t be right. Minnelsa didn’t hurt anybody. If papa had let her marry the Wood’s boy years ago. . . Besides, if papa knew his son-in-law to be was playing at Emma’s, he wouldn’t even let me marry him.”

“
I was just kidding, June. Kidding because,” he yawned, “there is nothing you can do.” Then he had gone to sleep.

Maybe she should go to Emma’s to get him. She wanted him back. She had become an ideal daughter: affectionate to her older sisters, helping around the house, and going to class and paying close attention to her studies.

It was driving her insane.

She was going to be an ideal woman now. She knew of such things. Things that her older sister would never know of. She had listened to the bad talk. She had seen women rub themselves against the men at Emma’s. She had seen the men slip their hands into the blouse or run a hand up a skirt and once, once when she was sitting in the car waiting for Ross, she had seen a couple fornicating against a tree.