The light is finally softening at the edge of the afternoon, though the heat hasn’t fallen off. Mary manages to settle the girls down and get them to eat some snap peas and cold boiled potatoes for supper, but she and Ida Mae have no thoughts of eating. They both startle at the sound of steps coming up the front and onto the porch—Henry would come in through the back. The voice comes along with the knock on the door, “Miz Slocum? It’s John Carter, Jack Carter’s boy.”
Ida Mae breathes out in relief as she goes to the door. “Jack is one of Henry’s old friends.” She leads the young man into the kitchen; he is grimy and has sweated through his shirt. The girls stare up at him from the last of their supper as Ida Mae sits him down and gives him water and his own plate, with some salt pork on top of the potatoes. He wolfs it down.
“Mr. Slocum asked me to look in on you on my way into the city. I’m bringing news to my daddy.”
Mary and Ida Mae exchange a look. Finally, Ida Mae is able to ask, “And what is the news?”
“The Johnnies are fighting hard, harder than we thought they could. But Mr. Slocum said to tell you he surely believes that General Early will still have to fall back once it’s full dark. He’ll head back out the way he came in.” In the long Washington summer, it won’t be completely dark until after eight o’clock; a glance outside shows the shadows haven’t yet melted into twilight. “Mr. Slocum says to say he’s staying up at the fort until he’s certain they’re turning back, then he’ll be home directly.” He stands up, even as he gulps down the last of his water. “I need to get these messages to my daddy. Thank you, ma’am.” There is a stillness after he leaves, and wordlessly the women sit, the girls between them, and watch as the light draws back up into the sky, leaving the land in muddy darkness even as the colors of the sunset linger above.
“The cannons.”
“Yes. They’ve stopped.”
“Mamma, what’s happening? Is it bad?” Little Mary’s voice has a quaver in it.
“I don’t think so, dearest. I hope not.”
They both strain to listen; the faint pop of gunfire is still there, but sporadically now. Soon, Mary can’t tell whether she can still hear something, or if that is simply the after-image of the sound echoing inside her. And then even that fades. They continue to sit and listen as the darkness draws in, until Emma begins to whimper; Mary lights one of the lamps.
Both women hear it together and jump up: boots on the back steps and then the creak of the porch floorboards. There is Henry standing in the kitchen doorway. For a moment, the three are frozen in place. “It’s over. They’re gone.”
Ida Mae takes two steps toward Henry and he closes the gap between them as she throws her arms around his neck, and he hugs her tightly to him. Mary sits down hard in a kitchen chair, and has to press her handkerchief tight against her eyes to hold back tears, her breath coming in uneven gasps. She feels like someone has caught her frayed end and she has unraveled in one pull. Henry puts a hand on her shoulder, including her in their shared release.
That night, with the girls pulled close against her in bed, she sleeps.
Happy as a Bird
1903-1908
From Emma’s diary:
Monday, March 16, 1903: Lillie came from school today and told me that her teacher had said to the children in the school, If you all would read as well as Lillie, you would do well. She is very proud of this and works very hard. She says, I am not afraid to work. The days are beautiful and warm, and Lillie is working out in the garden, making her garden. She enjoys it so much, the cow and chickens are a source of great pleasure to her. She calls Blossom a spoilt baby, and says I am Blossom’s mother and papa is Blossom’s father.
Thursday, June 18, 1903: Blossom’s little calf came to town on Monday, May 18th at 5:30 p.m. Looks just like her, marks just like her. Baby was sick with measles when Blossom’s baby came, and we told her nothing of it until she was more than a week old. So one day I carried her back in the garden where Blossom was standing. The baby was lying down on the other side of her mother and Lillie did not see her immediately. Finally Blossom moved aside, then Lillie saw the little brown heap with her little head resting on her feet, and her bright eyes shining at us from under the honeysuckle. I think I never saw anyone so surprised. Oh! mamma what is that? And before I could answer, she said, Blossom’s dear little baby, why you dear little dot of a thing. Who brought her mamma? So she has petted her and fed her, and now she is one month old today. And we tie her in the garden, let her eat grass and feed her, but as she still sucks her mother, she is not very particular about eating. She is a beautiful baby, and Lillie calls her Dimple.
Tuesday, July 28, 1903: A lovely day, baby is eight years old, and this evening she has had her party. About twenty-four children were there, the bale was set on the lawn, we had the lanterns all around the garden. Mr. Dorisey came out and took the pictures of the group, Mr. Brown came down with the Graphophone, which the children enjoyed very much. Lillie’s spoon is very pretty and quite heavy, bought at Mr. Hines on F Street between 9th and 10th, cost $1.75.
December 16, 1903: Wednesday, looks like snow. Lillie wrote a letter to Santa Claus at the request of her teacher Miss Cole. She said in her letter that she had everything she needed, all she wanted was a baby sister. Dear little Lillie, she is so lovely and such a sweet baby herself, so well and so full of life and romp, just the happiest little thing in the world, and her cheeks are just as red as red roses.
cd
Thursday, July 28, 1904: A hot day, cloudy and showery. Lillie had her party, thirty-five children, but a storm came up just as the children were having their pictures taken, then such a scramble for the porch and house. Then, after the party was all over, the moon came out beautiful and bright. The children had a good time however; plenty of cake and cream, peanuts, caramels, peanut brittle, bananas, chocolate cake, jelly cake, coconut cake, and white cake iced for the birthday cake with nine little candles. Nine years old, dear little baby, just the same sweet child, and just as much a baby as ever, but she is growing so tall.
Thursday, September 8, 1904: Charley, Lillie, and I went to N.Y., had a nice time. Arrived in N.Y. at one p.m., went over to Brooklyn to see Sister. She is living at 365 Hoyt Street. Went down to Coney Island that night, saw the beautiful ocean, and all the many things that are to be seen at Coney.
Thursday, October 6, 1904: Charley and Mr. Reddy are building a small addition to the kitchen, and a covering for the cellar and kitchen steps.
Monday, October 31, 1904: Lillie started in with music, the Fletcher system. She is getting along lovely, and her teacher says she is the most delightful child she had ever taught. She is very fond of music, and I hope she will make a good player.
cd
Friday, July 28, 1905: A cloudy uncertain day, but we had the party, which went off very nicely. There were forty-four children, and they all had a good time.
Monday, September 18, 1905: School opened and I went up with Lillie. She looked very sweet in her little baby blue suspender dress of linen and silk and a very pretty embroidery, and white goods for a waist, and her hair in curls. She went to the fourth grade, her teacher is Miss Alice Clark.
Thursday, September 21, 1905: A beautiful day. Lillie started her music with Miss Payne again, lessons $1.00, or $1.50 for two lessons.
Monday, November 27, 1905: Had Lillie’s piano brought out, a Knabe, $500.00. It is lovely. She knew nothing of it until I took her into the parlor after dinner, then she smiled her sweet little smile, and buried her little head in my arms. She was delighted, and sat down and played her little exercises for us, but she was so nervous and excited. She did very nicely. Grandma came down to celebrate, Gussie was there, Charley and myself.
cd