“The doctors told me there was nothing wrong with me, but I just never did get pregnant, Ailey. It was the strangest thing. It took me a long time to stop being sad, but the year before he died, my husband, Horace, told me, we were enough for each other. It took him long enough to say it, but I’m glad he did. He gave me plenty trouble, but he was all right. He gave nice presents, especially when he’d been bad.”
“Miss Cordelia, can you tell me your first memory?”
“Hmm. Well, I don’t know if this is my first memory, but I hope this one will do. I was about four, so this was before everything burned down. Jinx Franklin came up to the house and knocked on the front door. He lived on our land and farmed for us, just like the coloreds—I mean, Black people. He was what we used to call ‘white trash.’ We only had three girls working in the house. There was Hettie. She was my nanny. I loved her as much as Mother, maybe even more. May Lois did the cooking, though she wasn’t that good at it. I don’t know why Mother tolerated her. Lacie was the maid. She cleaned the house. Lacie was younger and quite pretty. Probably younger than you. Mother didn’t like her, but Daddy wouldn’t let her fire her, because she was related to Root and Pearl somehow. I heard Mother say that she didn’t trust a Pinchard man around a good-looking colored girl to save her soul. Because of Lil’ May and Big Thom and all that. Am I being rude to bring that up?”
I kept my arm steady. “No, ma’am. Not at all. If I may say so, that’s pretty common knowledge.”
She giggled. “I guess it was! Anyway, we had some boys that used to work around the house, taking care of the cows and chickens and yard and such, but I don’t remember their names. I do know that one of the boys was old, maybe my age now, but he got around well without a cane or anything. Do you notice that older people aren’t as spry as they used to be? I wonder why that is. Root tells me, ‘Cordelia, it’s because of all the chemicals they put in the water and the food. They’re poisoning us.’ But I don’t know.”
“That’s certainly something to think about.”
“What was I talking about, Ailey?”
“You were mentioning that Mr. Franklin showed up that day at the house.”
“That’s right! That awful Jinx showed up to the front door, and Hettie answered, because Lacie was upstairs cleaning. We’d been playing a game. Hettie was fat, and she was out of breath. When she got to the door, she told Jinx to go around to the back, and he asked her why. She said, he knew why, and if he didn’t, she didn’t have time to tell him. Couldn’t he see she was busy with Miss Cordelia? And, oh, he got so upset and took on! He started cussing up a blue streak right there on the front porch. And then, he called Hettie a bad word.”
“What did Jinx call Hettie?”
“I can’t say that word. All my life I haven’t said that word, and I will not start now. Only the worst trash uses those words. And, my, those Franklins were just the rudest, most ill-mannered trash on God’s green earth. The children used to stick their tongues out at me when Daddy drove us to town for church. I couldn’t stand them!”
I shifted again. I wanted to ask about the Franklins. If the old man had been perplexed by the information that I’d given him, I suspected it would be worse with Miss Cordelia.
“Um . . . may I ask, did anyone in your family . . . um . . . ever tell you of a blood tie between the Pinchards and the Franklins?”
“A blood tie? What do you mean?”
“I mean . . . um . . . did anyone ever talk about you possibly being related to the Franklins?”
“Related? Of course not!”
“So . . . you never heard anything about that from your father, maybe? He never mentioned that?”
“No, he did not! I think I would remember something so ridiculous! What in the world are you talking about?”
Her voice rose, and soon, Miss Sharon had padded into the room. “Ma’am? Did you need something?”
“Bring me my fan!”
Miss Sharon widened her eyes at me: What did you do? When she returned with an Oriental-printed fan, I held out my hand, but the old lady grabbed it, saying she could fan herself. She wasn’t that old.
“Miss Cordelia, I’m so sorry, ma’am,” I said. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”
The fan fluttered. “There are just too many gossips in this town! And those Franklins always have been liars! I heard the one who’s a policeman is halfway decent, but I don’t believe it. I’ve never met a Franklin worth a nickel with a hole in it.”