Hello everyone. Here's another update. Hopefully it's good. I hope to update the other stories within about a week of this one. Thanks for the feedback!
*****
I sat at the table in a daze of confusion as my mother and new fiancé chatted happily like old friends. The new Phillip was right next to me but he could have been miles away. He was so completely changed.
Mad George ate contently in the corner and I looked down at my own plate. I hadn't eaten much; everything was confusing to the point that even the food tasted different. I felt a gentle nudge to my shoulder.
"Everything alright, Sweetheart?" Phillip raised an eyebrow at me.
"I think I'm just tired from the road." I smiled soothingly.
"Want more wine?" He started pouring my glass before I answered.
"Sure..." I stared at the glass and nodded before picking it up and sipping.
My mother grinned at me. "Isn't he thoughtful?"
"Absolutely..." I put my head on his shoulder to play along and she cooed.
"That's just precious." Her eyes glittered with excitement before she took a breath. "Nisha... I'm just so happy you decided to do it here. You don't know how happy it makes me."
I must have looked like a deer in the headlights because Phillip immediately spoke up. "She wouldn't have it anywhere else. Twisted my arm, didn't you Sweetheart?"
"Y-yeah, practically twisted it right off..." I was still lost but his hand on my thigh was enough of a warning not to make a scene about it.
"But... don't you both think it's a little soon? I mean is there something you need to tell me first? Maybe a little one on the way? I'm not trying to pass judgment or anything. I just want to know what's behind the rush..." My mother pried in her polite southern way.
I blinked. Fucking Phillip, we were getting married here on my family's land and I just found out. His hand slid up and stretched across my stomach possessively, the fingers spreading. I felt the urge to stab that hand. "I assure you Mama, love is our only driver. But don't worry, Vinisha and I plan on giving you a lot of grandchildren in wedlock."
My mother grinned happily. "Good. Good for both things. I'm just so happy that you two are here with me. I can't wait to show you all the things that Nisha got to see growing up. Ooo! Once we've finished dinner, I'll show you the album!"
"The album?" Phillip raised his eyebrow, sounding genuinely intrigued.
"It's the family history album." I whispered into my glass of wine before taking another long sip. His hand was still on my stomach, draining my freedom and filling me with a fearful anticipation of all the things I still didn't know about my life at this moment and in the future.
My mother wrapped up my plate and ushered us into the parlor before rushing to the library. I brought my wine with me and sat on the edge of the loveseat. Inoue sat comfortably in the middle, stretching his limbs before wrapping an arm around me.
"Come here Vinnie. Be good." His voice coaxed at me.
I didn't move immediately, instead side-eyeing him as I finished my glass with a gulp. With exaggerated distrust and hesitation, I turned into him. He grinned and kissed my temple and I rolled my eyes.
"Point taken now straighten up, or else..."
I sat up and plastered on a smile just in time as my mother rushed back in with a big book the size of most family bibles. She grinned and sat on the other side of Phillip. Nestling the book in his lap, she cracked open the first page to a handsome but modest black couple in a picture. It was their wedding picture. The woman wore a plain white dress and held onto the man's arm. He was in a simple shirt and pants. Both of them had solemn faces but the picture still had an air of love and fun.
"Now see these are my great-grandparents, Bethulah and Joel Cochrane. They were sharecroppers who saved up and came west. They had to leave everything behind." She turned the page to show a far off picture of a small farm. "This is their land. We still own it but we rent it to other people."
She turned to the page to a family portrait of the Cochranes with 4 girls. Their ages ranged from late teens to about 6. "These beautiful ladies are their daughters. Joyce, Liza, Neesia, and the youngest is Odette. Odette is my grandmother. Now let's see. Joyce moved to St. Louis and married a jazz musician. Liza became a school teacher and they say she died a spinster but she was a lesbian. Neesia married another farmer and moved down South until she left her first husband for a Mexican. And at last we have Odette."
As she spoke she turned the pages showing pictures of the women as they grew up and went off into the world. There were even pictures of Liza's lovers in there. I could retell the stories from heart now but Phillip sat in childlike wonder as he poured over my family history. I cuddled into his shoulder as my mother turned the page to a blown up picture of my grandmother. Dark and grinning at the camera with big eyes like black diamonds. Her hair was tucked behind one ear and every inch of her face screamed mischief afoot.
"She married a soldier and had my mother, Gloria. Then he died in WWII, leaving her a single mother. By that time, my grandparents were doing well enough to support the two but she caught the eye of this man," She turned the page to another blown up picture of a white man. His hair was dark in the sepia photo but his light eyes were nearly a transparent taupe with the lack of color. He had an easy going smile and a soft sort of handsome bordering on pretty.
"This is Victor Van Bart. He bought this land, built this house and all the other buildings on it for Odette. He came from this old money family, the Van Barts. There's still some in this area but not in this town. Him marrying a colored girl didn't go over too well with the family. Anyway, together they had a son, Maxwell."
My mother turned the page again to a picture of a young boy who was the splitting image of his father. "As you can see, he could pass. So when Victor died a decade years later from pneumonia, they came wringing their hands and weeping, wanting Max. Odette reluctantly let him go and he was sent to Europe to be with the other Van Barts and even attended Cambridge, all under the guise of being a white man. And these..." She finally turned to the start of the big section of the book. "are his letters. He wrote every week or biweekly and always sent cards and gifts like chocolates or bows. Stuff like that. Here's one little post card from a Roman holiday: Dear Mama, all the statues are naked. You would laugh so hard because all the Johnsons are so tiny. Love you dearly, Max"
Phillip and Mama cracked up a storm over that one. I loved Great Uncle Max's letters. I'd pour over them as a child and read them again and again imagining myself with him on his trips. My mother flipped through the pasted and saved letters and cards until she found the one she was looking for. "Ah, here's the most important one: Dear Mama, I've found a girl I love. She is like me but cannot hide it. The grandparents are not thrilled but on threat of exposure have given me permission to marry her. I'm bringing her to Texas for you. Love you Dearly, Max."
