Chapter 24 Tabitha
Charleston, South Carolina
July 1920
A smile set in her heart and on her lips as Tabitha entered Hank’s to begin the day. She noted as she passed the pantry that the supply shipment they should have received had not been delivered. It would cost more if she had to go to the market to stock up. She put her things away, washed her hands, and donned her apron. She found Hank sitting outside in the back, drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette. Hazy smoke and the harsh smell of tobacco lingered in the air.
Tabitha coughed and fanned the cloud away before coming to the reason she was invading Hank’s private time. “What happened to the supply order? I need flour, and our rice barrel is getting low.”
After a reflective minute, Hank took another sip from his coffee. “I didn’t order.”
Not needing to ask because he would tell her, she waited for his explanation.
“I’m closing this place.”
Hank had mentioned this before several times, but this was the first time he delayed the supply order.
“Ruby’s going to die if we stay in this wet city. Her lungs are too weak. The doctor says she needs a dry place.”
This news was not surprising, just unexpected... today. “Where will you go?”
“Tennessee. I have family there.”
Seeing he had given this decision thought enough to fire off replies, Tabitha straightened her back. This was not just talk; it was real. “When will you go?”
“Soon.”
Panic filled her chest, but she kept her emotions out of her voice. “When did you decide this?”
“I’ve been deciding it for years.”
“Years of maybe.” She sighed. “You could have given me some notice on the supplies.”
“You’ve got a good name now. One of the restaurants will hire you.”
“I don’t want to work for one of them.” She’d thought about it many times because Hank was always mumbling about leaving. Hank was known to make decisions impulsively, like not ordering supplies without telling her, so it was time to speak her mind. She didn’t want him to make plans before she had her say. “I can take over this place.”
“By yourself?”
“Of course by myself. You know I have the gumption, the ideas, and the back for the work.”
“This isn’t a place for a woman to be alone. Some of the new ones working the docks... We don’t know them.”
“I keep my pistol in my skirt, and Sam is in and out.” Though Tabitha did not know how much weight to give Sam. He was Hank’s wife’s cousin from Tennessee, so he always behaved himself, but still they did not get on well. On Tabitha’s suggestion, Hank hired Sam to wheel a food wagon down the dock. There were Negro men there who couldn’t walk this far on their short lunch break.
Hank shook his head. “Gal, I’d fear God if something happened to you.”
She stepped closer to him, cocked her head, and forced him to look her in the eyes. “God is my keeper. I’ve learned that the hard way, and I don’t want to work for anyone... other than you.”
Hank laughed, the smoker’s crackle making it sound less jovial. “You don’t work for me.” He finished his coffee and handed her the empty tin mug. “I can’t guarantee the landlord won’t want more rent. He’s been trying to raise it.”
“Maybe we can keep the arrangement you have with him for a while,” Tabitha said. “This is your place. I can still pay it in your name.”
“My name.”
“It’s Hank’s Place. That don’t have to change. Not right away.”
“You know business, Tabitha. Long as you can keep these men off ya, you gonna do all right.”
“All I need is a chance.” Tabitha smiled. “And flour and rice.”
He nodded. “What you makin’ today?”
She relaxed some. Hank was in agreement, and it hadn’t been hard to convince him. “I’m going to use that pork meat. I figure hash, rice, and corn bread.”
Hank dropped his cigarette, stood, and stepped on it. “I’ll go to the supply store while you cook.”
Tabitha raised a hand to his shoulder, squeezed, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Hank.”
He grumbled and went on this way to the store. Tabitha sailed back inside, put his mug in the sink, and gathered the things she needed. She walked out of the kitchen and looked at the dining room, inspecting every foot of it. This was going to be hers. Now she understood why she was in Charleston. It was so she could have her own little corner of the world.
Two weeks later, Hank was gone. His exit brought a change in her relationship with Sam. He didn’t try to hide his disappointment that Hank hadn’t left the place to him. Tabitha didn’t know why he thought Hank would. He couldn’t cook, not well. Selling off the wagon was all he knew.
One of the first small changes Tabitha made was to put a bell over the door to alert her when someone entered.
Brady Moore, her neighbor on the left side of her building, entered carrying the day’s newspaper and a small sack. Tabitha knew without opening it that it contained candies for her children. Brady operated a store that sold newspapers, leather goods, men’s twill clothing, and shoes appropriate for the work they did on the docks. He also sold penny candy and soda water. He’d been open for a few months, bringing the business with him from Savannah. But he’d been gone for a few weeks, visiting his sick father in Columbia.
“You will ruin the teeth of my children.”
“Aw, a little candy never hurt teeth. It’s not brushing that ruins them.” He placed the sack and paper on the counter.
“You’ve missed a great deal since you were gone.”
Brady’s brows rose with interest. “Have I?”
“Yes, but first, how is your father?”
Brady slipped onto a stool. “Healing well, thank you.”
“And your mother?”
“Tired of my father but well also. Now please, you know I sell the paper. I want the news.”
With his easy wit, Brady pressed a smile out of Tabitha every day. She went into the kitchen to fix his plate. She’d made his favorite dish, stewed chicken and Hoppin’ John rice. Once she returned with his bowl, she told him of Hank’s departure as he ate.
“So you own the place now? That’s impressive. You’ll do a fine job.” Brady’s smile was a welcome light in the early part of the day. Everything about him was welcoming, and she had to keep her fondness for his looks a secret so as not to make a fool of herself with someone she had to see so often.
Brady was tall and broad shouldered, his skin as deep as hers after the sun toasted him for the season. His eyes... intense and thoughtful. His voice... deep but soothing at the same time. He was often slow to speak, deliberate instead of ready with a word for everything. Being intentional made him more trustworthy. She had no use for men who spoke fast on all subjects. That was how Joseph had been. That kind of way about a man was like a bitter root in her mouth.
“I would not be a good neighbor if I didn’t tell you to keep your eyes open. With Hank gone, some of the men might try you.” He frowned through those words. “I’m next door and available to help with anything you need, Tabitha.”
“I appreciate your offer,” she said.
His easy smile teased her again. “Keep a broom handle or something handy behind the counter, so you can bang on the wall.”
“I will.” And with the suggestion, she really considered him to be her protector.
Brady put money down and left with his bowl. He always returned it at the end of the day. She hadn’t noticed he’d put down twice as much. She rushed out the door after him. Just as he reached his store, she called to him. “You put down too much money.”
A slow smile spread across Brady’s face. “I believe they call that a tip. You should put a jar on the counter. Let the men give you a little extra. Pennies add up to dollars.” He stuck his key in the door and disappeared behind it.
Tabitha was frozen in place for a few seconds. She was one heartbeat short of a swoon. At first the little tug in her belly felt good. By the time she reached her kitchen, her stomach turned over and fear crept into her chest. She did not know what to do with a man other than make babies, and she didn’t need any more of those until she had a husband, if that was ever to be.
It wasn’t long before Sam entered with the bell ringing over his head.
“That sound is gonna make you a looney one,” he said, twirling his finger around by his ear.
“Good morning to you too,” Tabitha said. She’d already loaded his food on the wagon.
“You got it ready?” Sam asked.
“Of course.” Tabitha noticed he was avoiding her eyes. “Are you settling the account?”
“I’ll take care of it when I come back,” he said. “I’m running late. I best be going, or I’ll have wasted food.”
Wasted free food, Tabitha thought, but didn’t say. She didn’t want to delay him. If he was going to go without paying her, she’d prefer he make the going quick.
Sam walked out the back door, and seconds later Tabitha heard the squeak of the wagon wheel as he dragged it away. She pulled the back door closed and locked it. He had not paid her. The arrangement he had with Hank was to transfer to her. Sam was supposed to pay for his meals on Friday for the following week. But last week he paid on Wednesday, which put Tabitha in the position of giving him food with no payment. Now she had to see what he would do this week as it was already Wednesday and he’d given her nothing. Hank was concerned about the men taking advantage. The only one doing that was the troublesome cousin he’d left behind.
She didn’t like this. She didn’t like him. Never had, but now that Hank was gone, he was doing things he hadn’t done before, like not even washing the rags they wrapped the food in. The rags had to be washed daily or at least every few days. Sam had always done some of that wash. Now, he didn’t even bother to put the rags in the wash pail. He left them in the wagon or brought them inside and dropped them on the floor near the pail. Sam was treating her like she worked for him, and he was a bad boss. Tabitha didn’t know how things would end with Sam, but for sure they would. She just hoped no one got hurt in the ending.
***
Tabitha and Brady stood outside her place and looked over her door.
“Tabby’s Place,” Brady said. “That has a nice sound to it.”
“You don’t think I was too ambitious to get it done? Hank’s only been gone two months.”
Brady shook his head. “He’s gone, and he’s not coming back. Everyone knows this is your place, Tabitha. Your name should be where it is.” He gave her a pat on the shoulder and walked into his store.
Tabitha went inside Tabby’s. She pulled biscuits from the oven and rolled butter over them before slicing them in half and stuffing each with pork meat.
The bell rang over the door, and she looked out.
Sam.
He was early enough to argue his situation for longer than normal. She readied herself for the conversation and said a prayer in her head for strength.
“Morning, Sam,” Tabitha said, wiping her hands down her apron.
He hung his jacket and went to the wash sink to clean his hands. “Those biscuits smell good. Meat too.”
“Thank you. How was your Sunday?”
“Quiet,” he said, inspecting her as he wiped his hands on a towel. “I went to Toby Dillard’s place down at the end of the pier.”
She pitched an eyebrow. “Did you? That’s far.”
“The ports are going to be taken over by the city.”
She’d been hearing that and wasn’t sure if it was good or bad news. She wasn’t as political as she should be. Charleston had a lot to be political about. She found it confusing sometimes.
“Things should improve. The business going to Savannah will come back through here. There will be more dock workers. I was thinking I should wagon further down.”
Tabitha continued to work without replying to him.
“Whatcha think?”
She raised her eyes. “I don’t know. That’s more cooking for me.”
“Well, the business grows.”
Tabitha kept her tongue, focusing on slicing the meat for the biscuits he would be carrying out.
“You ain’t gonna tell me what you think? I’m asking you.”
“That’s more cooking.”
“Well you is a cook, ain’t cha, gal?”
Tabitha’s anger flared. Being called gal by him warmed her up good. “I cook when it makes sense. This don’t make sense for me.”
“Why not?”
She placed a hand on her hip. “Because I’d be cooking more for no money.”
Sam frowned. It was that same frown he gave her every Monday when she didn’t say what he wanted to hear. “What you mean no money? I pays you.”
“What you pay me just covers the cost of the food. I don’t make anything from your wagon.”
“Now whatcha mean by that?”
“I mean what you give me doesn’t add money to my business. All it does is make me have to cook more. I can’t cook any more than I’m already doing without coming earlier and leaving later. I won’t do either.”
“This is the least you could do. You won’t make me a partner.”
Tabitha walked to the counter and put the containers of jam and butter on it. “Sam, we have gone ’round about this partnership thing. I don’t want a partner. I don’t need one. Now I lets you have the wagon—”
“Lets me. Woman, is you out of your head? I walk and sell this food—”
“For yourself! Not for me. Why can’t you see that I have nothing to gain with the wagon? You were more fair with Hank. You are taking advantage of me, and I’m not dumb. I know it.”
Tabitha walked back into the kitchen. Before she reached her pot, she felt a hand on her. “You flappin’ mouth, woman.” He pulled her by the neck of her dress and then shoved her against the icebox. “This why you ain’t got no man. Besides being too black, you think you know everything.”
He turned her loose, and she pulled the neck of her dress to fix the collar. “You should go.”
“Go?” Darkness filled his rough features. “I ain’t going nowhere. This is my family’s place.”
“Hank and I made a deal. It’s no longer in your family. If you have a problem with that, talk to Hank.”
“I don’t have to talk to Hank.”
“Well, you done talking to me. I want you gone.” She pointed toward the door. “You paid through last week, so I don’t owe you nothing.”
He stepped toward her saying, “You raggedy—”
Tabitha reached in her pocket and pulled her revolver out. “Don’t you move.” She raised her other hand to support it. “I’ve been shooting birds since I was seven. You’ll be a lot easier to hit from five feet away.”
Sam froze. The corner of his mouth tipped up. It was a smile but not friendly. “So, you gonna shoot me?”
Tabitha fought to keep her voice sure and firm. “You handled me first.”
The door opened with a jangle that was most welcome.
Sam and her eyes locked. She whispered, “No more wagon. This business is done between us.”
“Tabitha...” Brady’s voice carried into the kitchen.
Tabitha put the revolver in her pocket. Sam turned and walked out of the kitchen. She followed him, watching him walk past Brady without a word until he reached the door. Once it was open, he yelled. “You ole sow. You gonna be sorry you crossed me.” And then he left.
“I been sorry,” she said to his back. Once he was gone, she nearly collapsed on the counter. Brady came around and pulled her into his arms. He held her for a minute, rubbing her back in circles as she counted in her head to ten twice, trying to calm down.
The temptation to stay under Brady’s comfort was strong, so she slipped out of his arms.
“You’re trembling. What happened?”
“We are done with our business together.”
Brady nodded. “That’s probably for the best, but now you need to be more careful.”
“I know.”
“I mean careful, Tabitha.” Brady locked eyes with her. “Coming in and leaving. He’s not a good man.”
She nodded, her heart rate returning to normal. “I know. All this has been building since Hank left.”
“It was probably building before that.”
The bell rang, and the first of her customers entered. She grabbed Brady’s hand and squeezed it. “Thank you.”
Tabitha was thanking him for so many things—caring to help when she needed him, the comfort of his arms, and the reminder to watch out for Sam. She could not put his kindness out of her mind. Still, she worked the entire day with a knot in her stomach and throat. Once she was done serving the last of the supper run, she locked the door and cleaned up faster than she ever had.
She picked up the bag with her children’s meals and pulled the back door, locking it. The red wagon leaned against the wall, reminding her more than she needed to be reminded that she had an enemy.
The alley behind the store was narrow but short, and Tabitha chastised herself for never putting a different door on the front of the restaurant, one that she could lock from the outside to enter and leave from. She would take care of that as soon as she could.
Tabitha stepped around the corner and was startled when she saw a figure standing there. Her heart caught, froze, and then relaxed.
“Brady, you almost gave me my death.”
“I didn’t mean to. I was waiting for you.”
“You’ve been closed.”
“A little while.” They both knew that wasn’t true. His workdays ended at four o’ clock. “I’m going to walk you to the rail.”
“That’s not necessary. It’s right up the road two blocks.”
“That’ll be two blocks we’ll share.” He took the bag of food from her hands, and she fell into step with him as they walked to the trolley car.
The trolley rambled toward them. “I can ride home with you.”
“No, I–I’m going to have to get used to watching out for myself.”
His kind eyes filled with sincerity and warmth. “Maybe just for the week.”
Tabitha felt her insides melt. This familiar feeling unnerved her. It reminded her of Joseph and what she felt when he came around. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself, but I thank you.” She reached for her bag, touching his hand and squeezing it just below the wrist before removing the bag. Again, there was that tug she’d felt before. Blood rushed to places all over, and she gathered herself before stepping onto the trolley car.
As it pulled back into the street, she caught a glimpse of Brady standing there, still, watching her car move away from him.
Tabitha’s heart swelled with a feeling that was deeper than gratitude. Deeper than friendship. She felt protected, and that was something she had not felt since her brother died. A tear streamed down her face, and she reached into her bag for a handkerchief. She missed him, and she missed Mama.