Chapter 28 #2
Joseph witnessed the Irishman’s reunion with Hélène, who wept with relief and kissed her intended repeatedly in spite of the soot on his face. “Oh Liam, I was so worried! We can tell Mama and Grandmama about us now, don’t you think? You saved our house!”
Liam smiled. “After last night, I can face anything—even your mother and grandmother.”
While they were not enthusiastic, Joseph detected relief that Hélène finally had a sweetheart.
‘You’ll have grandchildren who aren’t a thousand miles away, Mama!’ his sister pointed out.
The older women were impressed by how many signs Liam had learned, and they were placated by the knowledge that the marriage would be deferred at least until he completed his law apprenticeship.
Most of Charleston had nothing to celebrate.
Throughout those long days following the fire, Joseph offered blessings and prayers for the thousands rendered homeless.
The seminary became a temporary shelter and hospital.
In the room where most of the desks were stacked, he found Tessa scraping lint for wound dressings.
Before she looked up, she asked: “Were you able to see him?”
“Pardon?”
“Oh, good evening, Father,” Tessa smiled. “I thought you were Hannah.” She explained: “Whenever I go out, Edward insists I take Hannah with me, so I let her see her son—if his master allows it.”
Joseph had thought he’d sensed a loyalty in the negress that went beyond mere duty. Though Hannah was a staunch Baptist, she seemed to have no other faults.
“Were you looking for Hélène, Father?”
“I’ve just come from her. She said there was a basket of cloths that could be torn into bandages?”
Tessa nodded and motioned under one of the desks.
Joseph retrieved the basket and sat down across from her, glad to be off his feet. “How is Liam settling in?”
“’Tis good to have him under the same roof again. I have missed his company. But—” Tessa broke off.
“But…?” Joseph prompted.
“I know Edward resents the arrangement. The fact that I didn’t ask his permission first. The time I spend with my brother when both of them are home.
” Her voice was a murmur, a reluctant admission.
“Whenever Liam and I converse, Edward will sit nearby and pretend to read, but I know he’s listening. ”
Joseph frowned. For a minute, he only tore bandages without speaking. Then he rose to turn up the lamp wick. At last, he voiced a suspicion that had haunted him for months: “Tessa, has Edward ever…struck you?”
“Of course not.” But even as Joseph resumed his seat, she kept her gaze averted and added in a whisper: “He has other ways.” Before Joseph could ask for more, she continued: “Have you heard they’re planning a benefit concert for victims of the fire?
They need people for the program, and Liam and Ellie thought I should sing. ”
Joseph smiled. “You will be the favorite of the evening.”
“Edward has forbidden it,” Tessa muttered. “He says only fallen women sing in public or for profit. But I wouldn’t be profiting!” She gestured to the half-open door.
Beyond this little room, family after family huddled with nothing but the clothes on their backs, exhausted by the ordeal that had only just begun.
Tessa bent her head again, pulling away more lint.
Her words came slowly at first, then more forcefully, like a flood finally breaking through a dam.
“He’s never said those words to me before: ‘I forbid it.’ But I always know when he’s displeased; he never conceals it.
Edward will scowl and say things like: ‘I’d rather you didn’t, Tessie.
’ If I do the thing anyway, he’ll sulk for days, until I beg his forgiveness.
I know very well what I’ll face tonight.
When he returns home, he expects me to greet him.
But I cannot sit around painting flowers while my fellow creatures are suffering!
He’d keep me from Mass if he could. He thinks I overtax myself merely by leaving the house, that ’tis my carelessness which…
” Her eyes dropped to her flat bodice, and her hands stilled.
“Tessa, you know what my father said: that there was nothing you could have done to save them.”
“I am so cautious now. I have been since I lost Bridget. I’ve stopped visiting the orphanage and my old neighbors, because I might contract some fever…
If I thought for one moment that being here or reading to old Mrs. Callaghan would harm my babies…
” Tessa looked up at him with such pleading in her eyes, as if he were a judge.
“Edward is the one who insisted I attend Race Week. I told him I was tired!”
There was so much Joseph wanted to say, so many ways he wanted to comfort, encourage, and defend her. But a husband’s authority was absolute; there were times when a doctor or even a Priest could not challenge it.
“Edward’s father is even worse. He thinks I read too much. He says reading is unhealthy for women, that I’m diverting all my blood toward my brain and away from my ‘generative organs’!”
Joseph scowled. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Edward also thinks I should be lacing tighter. But I won’t! I can’t! And not only for the babies’ sakes. What I wore growing up in Ireland was nothing like the corsets that fashionable women are wearing now—I’m simply not shaped correctly!”
She was perfectly shaped. How could anyone think otherwise?
Tessa resumed her work and bent her head even more deeply, as if in shame. “I’m so sorry, Father. I’m doing it again: I’m telling you things I shouldn’t.”
“If you didn’t feel you could confide in me, I would be doing a poor job as a Priest.”
She smiled weakly. “Somehow, I don’t think Father Baker would listen so patiently while I complain about my undergarments.”
“He might be more receptive than you think. I suspect the two of you could commiserate.”
Tessa frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Corsets aren’t only for women, you know.”
Tessa’s mouth fell open. Her eyes darted toward the doorway, as if someone else might be listening to this slander. For a long minute, she considered the possibility. “Father Baker does have remarkable posture… No; it cannot be true! Who would lace it for him?”
“Our housekeeper, Mrs. O’Brien,” Joseph suggested.
“She is sixty years old if she’s a day!”
“But strong as an ox. I’ve seen her forearms. They’re the size of oak trees.”
Pursed lips quivering, Tessa resisted the mental image only a moment longer. At last, she threw back her head and laughed so hard tears sprang from her eyes. Eventually, she recovered enough to say: “Thank you, Father.”
“For what?”
“You made me laugh. No matter how dark the day has been.”