Mariah’s temper flared. “No, but she’s my only true friend and were it not for me, you’d have no shop! I do most of the sewing, I create the sketches that you sell downtown as your own. I do the deliveries and everything else that makes your shop such a success!”
That earned her a slap filled with so much anger and malice, the force of it sent her to the floor. Staring up into the smug pleasure sparkling in her mother’s eyes, Mariah slowly wiped away the blood on her lip. For the first time in her life, she saw the true depths of her mother’s loathing. In spite of all the nastiness and beatings she’d endured, she’d never shown her mother anything but respect. She had no answers to why the hatred existed, but in the face of the satisfaction her mother displayed from having delivered the blow it was plain that it was time to leave. Bible or not, she refused to spend another moment living with such unfounded malevolence. Simmering with rage, she stood. Without a word, she snatched up her handbag and marched out the door. Her mother yelled for her to return but Mariah didn’t slow her steps. She was hurt, furious, and in need of answers to questions that had plagued her for her entire life. The only person who could possibly enlighten her was her mother’s eldest sister, Libby. Getting on the trolley, Mariah ignored the curious looks her bleeding lip garnered and rode silently across town.
Chapter 3
Unlike Mariah and her mother, Libby Brown lived well, thanks to the estates of her three late husbands. Her large house was in the tonier Black area of the city. The maid answered the door and eyed Mariah and her injured lip suspiciously. “May I help you?”
“I’m Mariah Cooper, Mrs. Brown’s niece. I wonder if I might speak with her?”
The hard eyes didn’t soften. “I’ll see if she’s receiving. Wait here, please.”
A few moments later, Libby appeared, and upon seeing Mariah’s lip, exclaimed, “Oh my gracious, Mariah! What happened to you?”
“Mother and I had an argument.”
“Come in. Come in.” Taking her by the hand, she pulled her into the front parlor. “Sit right there. Willa, get her a cold rag.”
Mariah gingerly touched her swollen lip and shook her head in a mixture of anger and wonder that she and her mother had come to such a terrible state. Willa returned and Mariah pressed the cold compress to the injury. It did much to soothe the fiery sting. Rising to her feet, Mariah walked over to the ornate framed mirror hanging on the wall and surveyed the damage. Her bottom lip was split and puffy. She dabbed at the dried blood gently in an effort to clean it up and once again shook her head.
Libby’s dark face appeared in the glass behind hers and Mariah saw the empathy her eyes held. “It’s going to take that a few days to heal,” Libby pointed out quietly. “But we’ll keep it cold so the swelling doesn’t increase. Would you like to tell me what happened?”
They sat in the parlor and Mariah related the story. When she finished, Libby’s lip tightened with disapproval. “Bernice knows how close you and Kaye are. It isn’t right for her to deny you such a small thing, especially when you’ve offered to pay for everything.”
Mariah agreed. “She’s the only friend I have. May I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Why does mother hate me so, and please don’t tell me it’s my imagination because I know it isn’t.”
The expression on her aunt’s face was unfathomable, and after a moment Libby looked off into the distance at something only she could see. The prolonged silence made Mariah think she wouldn’t reply, but eventually she did. “You have your father’s eyes, Mariah. Every time Bernice looks into them, I’m sure she sees him and remembers her pain.”
“From the grief of his death?”
“No,” she countered quietly. “The pain of being abandoned and betrayed. Your father, Arna, didn’t pass away, Mariah.”
Surprise filled her and her voice. “But I was always told—”
“I know, I know, but that isn’t the truth. Your mother received a letter from him right after your third birthday stating he’d be staying on in London with his true wife and children and wouldn’t be returning to Philadelphia ever again. He wished you and her a good life, and Godspeed. It was the last she ever heard from him as far as I know.”
Mariah felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. “He was married to someone else?”
“Yes, both before and during the times he spent in Philadelphia with Bernice.”
Mariah truly thought she might be ill.
“Your eyes are twins of his. Tiger eyes, he called them. Said he had an ancestor who’d walked as a human by day and a tiger by night as punishment for offending one of his gods.”
“Surely no one believed such blarney?”
“Your father was so beautiful, the women he met didn’t care whether the tales were blarney or not as long as he favored them with a glance, a smile, or whatever else he might send their way. When he settled his attention on your mother, she was ecstatic.”
Mariah found this not only hard to believe but wondered what her father could have seen in such a dried-up shrew of a woman. Her aunt seemed to sense her thoughts. “Your mother was not as she is presently. At that time in her life she was one of the most beautiful women in Philadelphia, of any race or class.”
Mariah had difficulty reconciling that claim, too. “What country was he from?”
Libby shrugged. “He said Egypt to some and Bengal to others. I heard him claim to be a Spanish Moor one minute and the son of an African king the next, but he courted Bernice as if she were a queen, married her, and a year later you were born.”
While Mariah fought to make sense of the surprising revelations, Libby continued. “Because his work as a seaman took him on voyages all over the world, your mother only saw him twice, maybe three times a year. When he returned he came bearing gifts: cups carved from elephant ivory, floor rugs from Persia, bananas from the Sandwich Islands. The longer he was gone, the more treasures he brought back. Then his letter arrived. She was devastated of course, and then furious at being used so baldly and badly. To save face, she passed around the story that he’d been swept overboard and died at sea. She wore weeds and pretended to mourn even as everything he ever gave her was tossed into the grate and set afire. His betrayal shattered her and is the reason she treats you so horridly.”
Now Mariah understood. She could only imagine how devastated and heartbroken her mother must’ve been, but none of it gave her the right to take out that pain on her daughter. Mariah set that aside for the moment. “May I ask another question?”
Libby nodded.
“Why are the two of you estranged?” As far as she knew Bernice and Libby hadn’t spoken in years.
“I was the one who introduced them.”
After letting that shocking piece of the puzzle settle in, she reached over and gave Mariah’s hand a fond pat. “You’ll be my guest until you decide what it is you’d like to do. Or are you anxious to return to Bernice?”
“No.”
“Good. In the morning, I’ll go over and get your things.”
“She’s not going to let you take them.”
“I am three inches taller and fifty pounds heavier. I doubt there will be a problem.” And she winked. “You go upstairs and lie down for a bit. When you’re ready, we’ll have dinner.”
Even though her lip continued to throb, the talk with Libby eased a large portion of her inner tension. She gave her aunt a strong hug, and whispered, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, go on up before I begin to cry. I’m so glad you’re here. Life will be better from this moment forward, my niece. I promise.”
Upstairs, Mariah made herself comfortable on the bed in the guest room, and while lying there thought back on the shocking tale her aunt divulged. Though she felt sorry for her mother, there was no excusing what she’d forced Mariah to endure: not the whippings she’d received almost daily as a child, nor the verbal ones that replaced them as she got older. She was so tired of it all, from hav
ing to walk on eggshells twenty-four hours a day, to being forced to slave for her mother as if she’d been purchased on the auction block. She hadn’t asked to be born to a woman who’d been so terribly used, any more than she’d asked for the eyes that reminded Bernice of him so much. She’d often wondered how she’d ever find the inner strength to leave her mother, and now the day’s circumstances made the question moot. From that day forward, her mother would have to run the shop alone because she wouldn’t be returning. Aunt Libby promised life would be better. Mariah prayed she was right.
The next morning, Libby returned from the shop and presented Mariah with her possessions, including her beloved sketchbook and pencils.
“Did Mother give you a hard time?”
“Of course, and she’ll be wearing an eye patch for a few days as a result.”
Mariah’s heart stopped.
Libby smiled and waved her off. “Nothing to worry about. Sisters squabble all the time. Now, once we get everything up to your room, I want you to write a note to Kaye and let her know you’ll be making her wedding gown. I’ll have my houseman Randall take the note to her home.”
The request instantaneously erased Mariah’s unspoken concerns about the altercation between her mother and her aunt. After Randall hauled the trunks up to her new room, Mariah immediately sat at the mahogany writing desk and penned the note to her friend.
Kaye came calling the next day. They retired to the parlor, where Mariah filled her in on what occurred after she visited the shop yesterday.
“Oh, ’Riah. I’m so sorry and look at your poor lip. If there’s anything Mama and I can do to help you, just let us know.”
“Thank you. There is one thing I need your assistance with.”
“Whatever it is, I’ll do my best.”
She handed Kaye the three wedding gown sketches she’d drawn up. “I need your assistance in picking out the one you prefer.”
Kaye’s eyes widened with glee. After a few moments of silently evaluating each one, she gushed softly, “Oh, ’Riah, these are all so lovely.”
“You only get one.”
Kaye finally decided. “This one.”
Mariah nodded approvingly. In terms of design, the choice was the most basic of the three sketches, but with the seed pearls and understated headpiece and train, it was easily the most elegant. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to take all the measurements now, while you’re here.” She was ecstatic knowing she’d actually get to give her friend the gift.
“That’s fine because the sooner you begin the sewing, the sooner I’ll have my beautiful gown.”
After the measurements were taken and written down, the two friends spent the remainder of the afternoon having a grand time. They discussed fabric choices, how soon the gown might be done, and Mariah’s future plans.
“I’ve no idea, what I’ll do, but I can’t stay with Aunt Libby forever, nor will I be returning to my mother.”
“You are going to stay in Philadelphia, however?”
“I suppose, but I’m really not certain about that either.”
“In the very bottom of your heart, Mariah Cooper, what do you wish for?”
Mariah went silent and thought about the reply. They’d shared dreams their entire lives, so she felt safe in admitting aloud for the first time, “I’d like to own my own shop, but preferably in a place far away.”
Disappointment filled Kaye’s face.
Mariah called her on the reaction. “You asked for the truth, Kathleen.”
“I did, didn’t I. I’m sorry. I just can’t imagine life away from you is all. Is there anything else?”
There was. “Yes, to meet a man who won’t mind my ‘Witch Hazel’ eyes, and who’ll love me just as much as your Carson loves you.”
Kaye studied her silently. “Then that is what you shall have,” she stated firmly.
Mariah chuckled and rolled her eyes.
“Don’t doubt. I’m your best friend and I get to declare such things. You’ve had a horrid, rotten life up until now, and my love for you as a sister will make all you want yours.”
“Then I shall thank you in advance,” Mariah answered with a hint of sarcasm.
Kay tossed back with a smile. “What you desire is going to be yours. Just wait and see.”
Mariah would take the advice, but she wouldn’t hold her breath.
When it came time for Kaye to leave, they shared a strong hug and Mariah whispered, “Thank you for your friendship all these years, Kaye. And for always braving my mother to come and visit, and never once calling me Witch Hazel.”
Kaye hugged her tightly. “You’re welcome.”
They stepped out of the embrace and Kaye admitted, “To be truthful, I always wanted eyes just like yours.”
“Are you daft? Why?”
“They’re different, exotic-looking. They make you stand out.”
“I’d rather have good old normal brown. Thank you very much.”
“You have what you have, and you’ll find a man who’ll love them.”
Again, Mariah didn’t plan on holding her breath. She walked Kaye to the door, and once her friend was gone, Mariah felt better than she had in a very long time.
For the next few weeks she threw herself into making the wedding gown. To aid her efforts, Aunt Libby gifted her with a brand-spanking-new sewing machine from the Singer Company. There was a machine at her mother’s shop, but it was so ancient and in such disrepair, Mariah swore she spent more time repairing it than she did using it to sew. But the new one ran like a dream.
One evening while Mariah sat sewing the seed pearls to the gown’s skirt, her aunt sat nearby reading the Tribune. “Your Tillman’s wedding announcement is here.”
“He isn’t my Tillman,” she countered, not looking up.
“Says here the girl is from a very prominent Boston family. Her name’s Leola Franklin.”
“I hope they’ll be happy and I’m sure Mrs. Porter is very pleased.”
Libby smiled and turned to the next page. She read silently for a few minutes, then asked, “How would you like to live in California?”
This time she glanced her aunt’s way.
“There’s an advertisement here. A fine Coloured gentleman is seeking a housekeeper.”
“And?”
“You could go work for him and save up enough to get that shop you say you want to open. From everything I’ve read, California is becoming quite the draw, even for people of the race. Their schools are no longer lawfully segregated and there are people who own quite large parcels of land.”
Mariah mulled over the idea but quickly dismissed it. “I’m sure he doesn’t want an unmarried woman.”
“So, you claim you’re a widow. Who would be the wiser? Most women can clean house, but few possess your needle skills. Being able to make him shirts and trousers would put you at the top of the list, I’d be willing to bet.”
“But all the way to California, and to lie?”
“You’ve been saying you want to travel and see other places, so why not California, and lying about being a widow isn’t going to send you to Hades, Mariah.”
Mariah continued to harbor doubts, but asked, “How do I let him know I’m interested? Is there an address?”
“It says here to wire a Mrs. Yates in Sacramento.”
“May I think it over?”
“Of course, but I wouldn’t tarry. This says Mrs. Yates will pay for the train ticket, so I’m certain she’ll have more women applying for the position than she’ll know what to do with.”
“Does it say who the gentleman is?”
“No, but maybe it’s her father or a brother.” Libby shrugged.
That evening as Mariah prepared for bed, she thought about the advertisement. The only thing she knew for sure about California was that it had gold and was thousands of miles away. She didn’t particularly like lying, but as her aunt stated, it was just a small one, and she had longed for a new place to start life over, so why not Califo
rnia? Yes, she’d miss Kaye, but she’d be married soon, and their friendship would have to play second fiddle even if Mariah stayed in Philadelphia. In reality, she was a bit afraid of making such a bold move. Having never had to negotiate life on her own, she didn’t know if she had what it took to do so. However, the offer seemed to call out to her, and she was at a point where something in that vein was needed. Moving such a long distance wasn’t something to take lightly, but she decided to give it a bit more thought and revisit the idea in a few days.
But two days later, her aunt entered the bedroom she’d allowed Mariah to turn into a sewing room and handed Mariah a narrow envelope. “Your train ticket to California.”
Stunned, she looked from the ticket to her smiling aunt. “But I haven’t sent the telegram.”
“I did. I didn’t want this opportunity to pass you by.”
“Sounds more like you’re trying to get rid of me,” Mariah countered with amusement.
“Sounds more like having a niece I can train out to visit in California.”
“What did you tell Mrs. Yates about me?”
“That you are young and strong, educated, and lost your husband in a carriage accident. I also touted your sewing skills, and called you one of the best needlewomen in the city, which is the truth. I also told her you’d been employed by me for the past two years and are an excellent employee.”
Mariah was a bit overwhelmed.
“She has given you thirty days to get your business affairs in order here, and will expect you in Sacramento at the end of next month.”
She was even more overwhelmed. “But Kaye’s gown.”
“I suggest you get it finished because you are on your way to California, dear niece.”
Mariah spent the next week putting the finishing touches on the wedding gown. She was glad she’d started it early because once it was done and presented to the bride to be, she had time to whip up a few new serviceable skirts and blouses for herself as well.
On the day before she was due to leave, she gathered her courage and went to pay a call on her mother to say good-bye. If her new life in California worked out the way she hoped, Mariah had no inkling as to when she might return to Philadelphia, if ever.