In the morning, I waited upstairs for Henry and Ruth to leave the house. I knew Ruth had a meeting with her estate attorney and I was glad she was going out. When I was certain they were both gone, I put on my robe and left the room, intending to go downstairs to breakfast. But when I walked into the hallway, I stopped short. There it was again, that eerie feeling that Lucy was nearby. I looked at the closed door to her bedroom. I felt as though, if I pushed that door open, she would be there. She’d be sitting at her vanity, looking up at me with hollow eyes.
I shuddered. I was being ridiculous. Shaking off the feeling, I walked resolutely down the stairs and sat at the dining room table. Henry had left the newspaper on the table as he did most mornings, and I pulled it close to read the front page.
Hattie opened the swinging door between the dining room and kitchen and walked in with the coffeepot. “You got some appetite for eggs and grits this morning, Miss Tess?” she asked as she poured.
I suddenly remembered Adora and Zeke standing in the doorway of the kitchen after Ruth had raked me over the coals. Surely Hattie and Adora, Honor and Zeke, had talked about me every bit as much as the guests had. I wondered what they’d said. What they thought of me now.
“That would be lovely,” I said, smiling gamely. I couldn’t quite look her in the eye and I turned my attention back to the paper.
The top half of the front page was filled with war and polio. Seven more cases of infantile paralysis from the area had been sent to Charlotte Memorial Hospital and another Catawba County child had died. The situation in the county was worsening, the article said, and Dr. Whims was meeting today with two physicians from the National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis to plan a course of action. The hospital in Charlotte was calling for more nurses. And what was I doing? Sitting here being waited on hand and foot. Could I go to Charlotte? Maybe I could get a room there. I could do some good and escape Hickory, at least for a while. I’d feel closer to Vincent, emotionally at least, doing the sort of work he’d been involved with in Chicago last summer. Henry would say no, of course. If I left, I’d have to be able to support myself on whatever the Charlotte hospital was paying its nurses. I would no longer be able to count on Henry’s money to support me.
Hattie came into the room again and set a plate of scrambled eggs, sausage patties, and grits in front of me, the coffeepot in her other hand. I made myself look up at her.
“Thanks, Hattie,” I said.
“Sure, Miss Tess,” she said, refilling my cup.
I spread the paper open in front of me as I ate. A young man from Hickory had been seriously wounded in New Guinea and another was being sent home from Italy with a broken leg. I read the article on what this week’s rationing coupons would buy, which was not much. There was a small article about federal agents cracking down on counterfeit gasoline rationing coupons. Apparently that was becoming big business throughout the country.
At the bottom of the page was a large ad for Kraft Fine Furniture. Instead of advertising furniture, though, it encouraged people to buy war bonds and asked them to contribute to the scrap-metal pile Henry maintained in the parking lot by the side of the factory. Henry’s signature—Hank Kraft—was in large bold script at the bottom of the page, turning the ad into a personal plea.
I nibbled my breakfast as I read, unable to eat more than a few bites of egg and sausage. I was taking my time, uncomfortable about going back upstairs where Lucy’s ghost was waiting for me. When Hattie came into the room to pick up my plate, she shook her head and tsk-tsked.
“I always know when you upset, Miss Tess,” she said. “You don’t eat nothin’.”
I looked up at her. If there was anyone who’d understand how I was feeling about Lucy’s ghost or spirit or whatever it was, it would be Hattie.
“Do you feel Lucy in the house, Hattie?”
She cocked her head at me as if she didn’t understand. Then she let out a laugh. “Lordy, you need Reverend Sam bad, honey,” she said.
“I don’t truly believe in ghosts or spirits or any of that,” I said. “But upstairs…”
“Oh, she’s up there, all right.”
“You feel her presence too?”
“Yes, ma’am. She’s there.”
“Maybe I should go see Reverend Sam,” I said, more to myself than to her. “I want to ask Lucy to forgive me.”
“It was jest an accident, Miss Tess,” she said. “But he put your mind to rest. You oughta go.”
I pictured myself taking the bus to Ridgeview. Walking down that dirt road past the little houses. Past Adora’s yellow house. I could take her the money for the headstone at the same time. “I’ll go,” I said to Hattie. I glanced toward the foyer and the stairs. “But first I have to get dressed, and I feel like she’s waiting for me up there.” I laughed at myself and she chuckled.
“Want me to go up with you?” She grinned. “Keep her away from you while you put your clothes on?”
I laughed, getting to my feet. “You’re not good for me, Hattie,” I said. “You humor me too much.”
“Well, you good for me, Miss Tess,” she said, her voice suddenly serious. “Don’t let Miss Ruth run you off, ya hear?”