Chapter 48 #2
But Miss Mary just stared at hers. “I thank you, kindly, Josephine. But I’ll save mine for later. I’m a bit full right now.”
“Full?” Calla frowned. “I seen your supper plate. You hardly ate a thing.” Her eyes narrowed. “You still having that sour stomach?”
Miss Mary waved off the concern as she slipped the candy back into the bag. “Don’t waste your worry on me, I’m fine.”
“I ain’t wasting my worry. I just think you oughta take yourself to Doc Wyatt, is all.”
“I don’t need to see Doc Wyatt.”
“And I think you do! You been having them pains for a while now.”
“I’m not having pains, Calla.”
“Well, whatever it is you got ailing you, it’s been going on too long, and—”
“I’m not ailing.”
“Well something ain’t right, and a doctor sure enough could—”
“I don’t need a doctor to tell me I’m with child!”
Calla stopped cold, her mouth slipping open before a smile that seemed lit from within slowly spread across her face. Josephine shared it.
“You with child, ma’am? Oh . . .” Calla gently touched Miss Mary’s midsection, emotion tightening her voice. “Why didn’t you say something ’fore now?”
Miss Mary shook her head, surprising tears coming to her eyes.
“Because I don’t want to add to your pain, Calla,” she whispered, her voice absent its usual command.
“This time of year is always so hard for you. I remember your dear husband and precious son so well. You’ve been through so much, and I would never do anything to—”
Calla drew Miss Mary to her and Miss Mary’s arms came around her. As the two women hugged, Josephine could feel the love between them, the sense of belonging they shared. And as happy as she was for them, emotion of an entirely different kind burned her eyes.
Calla drew back. “You being with child, ma’am . . . And having a precious little one running around here? Well, that just makes my heart sing! What did Mr. Bobo say when you told him? I’m betting he’s so proud.”
Miss Mary hesitated. “Well, that’s just it.
I haven’t told him yet. Oh I reckon he’ll be right happy at the news.
We’ve been trying for a family for a while now.
But . . .” She briefly looked at Josephine, then away.
“You both know he’s been in and out of town so much lately, traveling like he is.
Still, his recent jobs haven’t been as fruitful as he’d hoped.
Meanwhile, here I am, proprietress of this boarding house that’s doing so well.
Not usually something a female manages these days, especially a woman with a child.
Or children, if God sees fit. And I just don’t know how Mr. Bobo will feel about all that, taken as a whole.
But God has blessed us, to be sure. This place is what I’ve always dreamed of having.
And Calla, your cooking is a big part of the reason why tenants stay like they do, and why guests keep coming back. Your fried chicken and that fudge pie.”
Calla’s smile softened. “You’re as much the reason as my food is, ma’am. You got a way of making everybody feel at home here, and so welcome.”
Miss Mary laughed. “Well, not everybody. I doubt our Mr. Morgan whose belongings I just tossed into the street would agree.”
Calla’s smile faltered. Guilt crept in behind her eyes, and Josephine rushed to fill the silence.
“May I offer my own congratulations, Miss Mary. I’m so happy for you, ma’am. And for your husband, who I’m sure will be thrilled.”
Miss Mary pursed her lips. “I have a feeling this news doesn’t hold the same surprise for you, Josephine. I think you might’ve heard me in the field one morning before church.” Miss Mary glanced at Calla. “Something I’d been craving didn’t set too well that particular day.”
Understanding gradually dawned in Calla’s expression. “It was you who ate that last jar of pickled beets!”
Miss Mary smiled. “Guilty, I’m afraid. And while they tasted good going down, I paid for it later.”
They all laughed.
“Mr. Bobo’s due home in the next couple of days,” Miss Mary continued. “I’ll tell him the news, and would appreciate your confidence until then.”
Josephine nodded, and Calla followed suit.
“Who knows . . .” Miss Mary’s smile held doubt. “Maybe my husband will be all right with being married to a woman running a successful boarding house while also raising a family.”
Josephine didn’t know Mr. Bobo well, by any means, but she knew men in general. In her experience, husbands wanted their wives at home, doting on them, not other people. And most wouldn’t want their wives doing better in business than they did.
“Why sure he’ll be all right with it,” Calla gently offered. “And don’t you worry none about raising a child in this boarding house. That little boy or girl will be loved and cared for, and’ll have so many doters they won’t know what to do with all the kindness.”
“I hope so,” Miss Mary said softly. “Because I love what I’m doing and think I could stay right here for the rest of my days and live a long and happy life.” She grasped Calla’s hand. “Providing you stay here with me.”
Josephine didn’t miss the flicker of uncertainty in Calla’s gaze.
“’Course, I will,” Calla finally managed. “Where else would I go?”
But Josephine knew what she was thinking, and she hated the painful lie Calla was living, almost as much as the one she was.