Chapter 35
35
K athy Sweets, Harlem 1949
“Can we talk?” Ely asked quietly.
Kathy ignored him. Instead, she gave Mrs. Crane a cheerful smile, carefully handing over the order of fresh-baked bread. Ely sighed, clearly frustrated, but waited. As soon as Kathy turned to join Debbie and her mother at the counter, Ely swiftly took her by the hand. Before she could protest, he guided her firmly toward the one place he knew she couldn't easily escape—the storage room.
“Ely, stop! Let me go! I said I don’t wanna—” Kathy’s protest was cut short when he gently but firmly nudged her inside and shut the door behind them. Her gaze darted upward toward the attic entrance before settling back on Ely, eyes blazing with fury. Surely, he had to know how much she dreaded coming back here—how raw the memories were.
Ely sighed, pacing restlessly in the cramped room before turning to face her. “Listen, I spoke with Debbie. I’ll do it.”
Kathy blinked, confused. “Do what?”
“You heard me,” Ely said firmly. “Debbie and José took your Pa and her father to Brooklyn—to the new house Matteo got for them. Did the whole tour. Her Pa was real proud of José, said Debbie. Put money in his hand for the renovations. Real proud.”
“Debbie didn’t mention?—”
“Well, she came straight to me with the whole plan,” Ely cut in gently. “She and José want us to stay with them at the Brooklyn place after the wedding. Especially since we’re due to leave the next day, she said your daddy agreed on the condition that his men are stationed discreetly in cars along the street—just in case word gets to Queens that you’re in Brooklyn.”
“It’s all arranged. José will handle it. I’ll slip out the back to Mama Stewart’s place and stay there quietly, so you and Carmelo can have your time. José and his boyfriend will stay there as well. Apparently, the three of them will hide when your dad does the walk-through. Debbie said they’ve got something special planned for you, and she needs me to help make things look legitimate for your folks.”
Kathy stared at him in disbelief. “Why would you ever agree to that?”
“Because I’ve got my own plan, Kathy—a plan to earn your friendship again,” Ely said, his voice earnest but firm. “You’ll return home with me. Back to Mississippi to take care of Big Mama. You’ll convince your parents it’s what you want, so your mom doesn’t blame your dad, and your family won’t fall apart. We start over, as friends. But you leave Harlem behind. That’s the deal.”
“I will never be yours, Ely,” Kathy said quietly, her voice tinged with sorrow.
He flinched visibly; hurt flashed briefly across his face. “Never say never, Kathy. I’m not forcing you into anything. This decision is yours alone. But ask yourself honestly—am I really the villain here, trying to keep you and your family from being gunned down by Italians? Or is Carmelo, knowing full well he’s making you risk something foolish, something dangerous, knowing he can’t protect you if things fall apart? Knowing he could get you killed.”
Kathy said nothing, eyes downcast.
Ely continued softly, stepping closer. “I love you, Kathy. I’m not gonna pretend otherwise. If friendship is all you can offer, fine. But I won’t risk my life, or risk war coming to Harlem, or endanger people I deeply respect here, just to keep you happy in this moment. I’ll do what you won’t. I’ll find a way for us to survive this mess.”
Without another word, Ely turned and left, the storage room door swinging closed behind him.
Kathy stood still for a long moment, trying to steady her breath. Slowly, she turned around, taking in the small, dim storage room. Without thinking, she moved crates under the attic’s ceiling door. Carmelo had taught her how to climb up independently, and she pulled down the old ladder.
She climbed carefully, heart heavy, expecting emptiness above. To her astonishment, everything she and Carmelo had left behind still remained—the blankets, books, even empty food cans. Kathy walked slowly through the attic, emotion swelling painfully in her chest. The window she and Carmelo had climbed through had been repaired, but her father hadn’t touched any of their belongings. Why? Hadn’t he hated their love? Why hadn’t he destroyed all evidence of it?
“Kathy?”
She turned sharply at her mother’s soft voice. Brenda’s head peeked cautiously through the open attic hatch. Kathy hurried to help as Brenda carefully stepped and climbed up to the attic floor, standing upright and brushing her skirt straight.
“Ma, what you doing up here?”
Brenda eyed her daughter closely, concerned but gentle. “I could ask you the same thing. I saw Ely pull you into that room and then storm out like he was on fire. Talk to me, baby. Henry’s been whispering all sorts of foolishness in my ear—that you and Ely are in love. Tell me the truth, Kathy. What’s going on?”
Kathy’s throat tightened painfully. She longed desperately for honesty, but had spun so many lies that the truth felt foreign. Taking a shaky breath, she stepped forward and hugged her mother close. “Ma, Ely wants me to go back to Mississippi with him.”
“What?” Brenda snapped immediately, eyes wide. “Absolutely not! You’re never going back there!”
“Ma, please?—”
“No! You think I want my daughter sharecropping, washing clothes for white folks? Throw away your future? All your education?” Brenda’s voice trembled, harsh and fierce with protective love.
Tears blurred Kathy’s vision. “One year, Ma. Just one more year. Then I come back home. Do you even talk to Daddy? Do you understand why he made me leave? Do you even try?”
Brenda’s brow furrowed deeply. “What you mean, Kathy?”
“Daddy’s in trouble, Ma. Real trouble—not like before with King Redmond, trouble that you and me handled. This is different. If I stay here, it breaks a truce between Bumpy and Luciano. That truce is all that’s keeping Carmelo’s father from killing Daddy and starting riots in Harlem. Daddy didn’t want me to leave. He had no choice.”
Brenda stared, stunned. “Who told you this?”
“Am I wrong, Ma?” Kathy challenged gently.
Brenda hesitated, shaken. “Henry never said…”
“Daddy doesn’t want to seem weak to you. He wants to be the man—bigger than Bumpy, bigger than Redmond, stronger than the Sicilians and Don Ricci. But he’ll get himself killed if we push him too hard,” Kathy’s voice cracked. “I gotta go back, Ma. I don’t have a choice.”
Brenda pulled Kathy tightly into her arms, fiercely protective. “I’d bake a thousand cakes, send them to those damn Sicilians, and kill every last one of them before I let them take you again.”
Kathy was shocked. She’d never heard her mother curse before. She lifted her head, seeing clearly the pain and anguish etched into Brenda’s face. “Please, Ma. That’s not who we are. We don’t kill people. We protected Daddy once, yes—but this fight is different. Daddy needs you to love him now. Love. He needs your love, not your anger. I’ll return soon, forever. Give him this chance, okay?”
Brenda wept softly, holding Kathy so tightly it hurt. “No,” she whispered, broken.
Kathy cried into her mother’s embrace, releasing all her grief until she was spent. Finally, Brenda spoke, her voice trembling. “You strong enough to go back with Big Mama until I find a way to fix this? Until I can help your father?”
“Yes, Ma,” Kathy said, wiping her eyes. “I’m strong enough. Big Mama’s health isn’t good. She can’t handle those Jensens’ expectations alone much longer. She needs me, too. I’ll start that school; I’ll have a salary, and a phone line put in at Big Mama’s house. We’ll talk every single day. And when you say it’s safe—that Daddy is safe—then I’ll come home. Because it’s always about protecting Daddy, the same way he always protects us, right?”
Brenda drew a shaky breath, nodding through tears. “Alright, Kathy. For now. I’ll help your daddy. I’ll come down at Christmas, spend every holiday with you. And when Harlem is ready for you, when it’s safe, you’ll come home to stay. Promise?”
“Promise,” Kathy smiled softly, wiping her mother’s tears.
Brenda cupped Kathy’s face tenderly. “My baby. You’re a grown woman now. I should’ve never taught you about the Poison Cherry. I never should’ve taken your innocence. I’m sorry you’re paying for my sins.”
Kathy gently clasped her mother’s hands, shaking her head. “Stop, Ma. I’m an Elliot woman, just like you. Janey taught me Grandma wasn’t evil or sinful. She was strong—a fighter. She protected you, you protected Daddy. The Lord works in mysterious ways. Sometimes He uses us to fulfill His plans. Sometimes…”
Brenda hugged her again fiercely. “Lord knows I love you, child.”
“I love you too, Ma,” Kathy whispered warmly. She looked around the attic thoughtfully. “Why’s everything still here? I thought Daddy would’ve burned it all.”
Brenda followed her gaze, frowning slightly. “Strange. Your daddy said he sold or trashed everything up here.” She smiled softly, understanding. “He repaired that window himself. Sat up here alone for hours, quiet. He missed you, baby. And I was too stubborn to see he was hurting. He needed me, and I punished him.”
Kathy smiled tenderly, peace flooding her heart. “I missed him, too. And seeing you two happy again—it means everything. Me being in Mississippi won’t change that.”
Brenda squeezed her hand gently. “I know, baby. I know.”
Kathy led her mother toward the attic ladder. “Come on. Let’s go. We got a wedding to plan.”
* * *
“Ely?”
He turned quickly, looking startled—eyes wide, mouth slightly open like he’d been caught doing something mischievous. Quick, he dropped his cigarette and ground it out beneath his shoe. A few of his friends from the block still lingered around the bakery, drawn there by his presence. Chester, though, had begun to distance himself now that Harlem knew José really was going to marry Debbie for sure.
“Oh, hey,” Ely replied, voice uncertain.
“Can we talk?” Kathy asked softly.
He nodded, glancing toward his friends. “Catch up with y’all later,” he said, and his boys sauntered away, leaving the two of them alone.
Kathy hugged herself against the chill. It was November, and Harlem’s cold had started to bite a little deeper. Seeing her discomfort, Ely quietly removed his jacket and placed it gently around her shoulders.
“Thank you,” she said, grateful for his kindness.
“No problem.”
For a moment, they stood in awkward silence, both facing out toward the street, the bakery a quiet presence behind them. Cars passed slowly, their headlights cutting through the twilight, highlighting their thoughtful faces.
Finally, Kathy broke the silence. “I want to apologize—for lying to you. I knew Carmelo would be there. You were right. I went even though I knew it would put Daddy in danger.” Her voice trembled slightly. “There was a time I wasn’t that kind of girl, Ely. I would never have gone against my father’s wishes or told a lie. Never.”
Ely looked at her gently. “You’re still that girl, Kathy.”
She turned to him and offered a faint, sad smile. “You sound just like Melo, you know? Both of you only see what you want to see in me. But I’ve changed, Ely. I’ve changed, just like Aunt Janey did in that house when she saw her mother’s belongings. Sometimes the pain and the loss is so much it makes you different. I’m different now. And so is he. The magic between us is different now. Not like it was in that attic. It’s not gone. It’s not here. I don’t know where it is.”
“Okay,” Ely murmured, uncertain how else to respond.
Kathy drew a deep breath, gathering courage. “I need to say goodbye to Melo. I need that, even if he doesn’t know it’s goodbye. But afterward, we’ll go to Daddy together, and I’ll tell him I want to go back with you.”
Ely’s eyes widened in shock.
Kathy met his gaze steadily. “But I won’t marry you, Ely. I won’t have your baby, or pretend that what you want from me is possible. I love Carmelo as much as you say you love me. That’s the truth. But I love my family more—and I need to protect them from my own heart.”
“I’m sorry, Kathy,” Ely said quietly, genuine sorrow reflected in his eyes.
“Don’t be,” she replied softly, shaking her head. “Maybe this is what it means to grow up. To let go of dreams about safaris in Africa and little cottages by the sea in Sicily. This is Harlem. This is reality.”
She slipped Ely’s jacket from her shoulders and handed it back to him gently. Offering one final, quiet smile, she turned and went back inside the bakery.
Ely stood watching her leave, his heart heavy with words left unspoken. He wanted to follow her, to somehow convince her that she could still find joy, happiness, and love—even here, even now. But he didn’t move. Standing there in the crisp November chill, he finally understood why Kathy was so special, why she had always meant so much to him. It was because Kathy was pure—pure in her feelings, pure in her passions, pure in the way she protected those she loved. Who wouldn’t want someone like that in their life?
She was worth the sacrifice, even if that sacrifice meant helping her be with another man.