Chapter 9 Ruby

Chapter 9

Ruby

Harrison squeezed Ruby’s hand where he’d tucked it into the crook of his arm and snuck a kiss to her temple. Ruby glanced at him. She resisted the urge to tug at her necklace. “I’m not nervous,” she said with a barely concealed pout.

He chuckled. She brushed a finger across his forehead where a soft fringe of curls resisted the pomade. She marveled at its softness and the way Harrison stilled beside her, and shivered when he took her hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart, where she felt the gentle rise and fall. It calmed her. Ruby wished it was just the two of them, that they were married already, making their way to their own dining room to share a meal and the events of the day, not dogged by nasty rumors or tense dinner companions.

He gave her a knowing look. “Soon we’ll be hosting our own dinner parties.”

“They’re sure to be livelier than this.”

Harrison’s mouth twitched, signaling a smile. He peeked into the uncomfortably silent room. “I don’t know. They all look pretty spirited to me.”

Ruby stepped through the archway and took in the people already gathered around her parents’ table: Her mother and father sat at opposite ends; their guests, Harrison’s parents and his two siblings filled in the remaining space but for two seats—across the table from each other. Ruby’s temper rose. She lifted her chin and looked at her parents in turn. They were troubled by the rumors, yes, but this was ridiculous. Seating her and her fiancé across the table from each other—really. They were all to be family soon! And the rumors were baseless.

This had been conceived as a celebratory dinner. The table was set with the best china, saved from the purge her parents mandated in their attempt to finance Mr.Tremaine’s now failed campaign. As a result, the house was sparse of furniture, paintings, vases, and other little touches that reminded her of when their house felt like a home. She touched the necklace at her throat, remembering how it had been pawned by her parents and then recovered by Harrison in such a grand romantic gesture, it made her smile every time she felt the pendant move against her skin. Like she was smiling now, despite the circumstances.

“Please, sit,” said Harrison. He pulled her chair out. Ruby lifted the skirt of the blue dress she’d had Margaret, the family maid, shorten to a more modern length. The linen fabric was breathable, perfect for the soaring temperatures, if not for the stares that met them now. Ruby wished they were dining on the back terrace. The gardens calmed her father, and today his frown was even more pronounced than usual.

“Thank you,” she murmured, and watched Harrison take the empty seat across the table.

“Now that we’re all seated, I think we can begin.” Mrs. Tremaine nodded at Margaret. The expression on her mother’s face was smooth and calm, like the surface of Lake Michigan before a storm. And it filled Ruby with a sense of dread.

“Thank you again for having us over for dinner.” Mrs.Barton, sitting to Ruby’s right, reached for her glass of water. “We’re awfully sorry for…” She trailed off, and Ruby followed her gaze to her plate.

Mr.Tremaine looked at Harrison’s mother as if challenging her, daring her to finish the statement.

Ruby cut in. “Thank you, Mrs.Barton.” She kept her eyes steady on her future mother-in-law. “We are very saddened by the news, but the race was close.” Ruby looked to her father for confirmation. He remained a solid slab of granite. The knot of dread grew in her stomach. “There will be another chance. I’m sure of it.” Ruby hoped her positivity would lighten the mood.

“Right,” said Mrs.Tremaine. It seemed like she would say more, but then Margaret returned with the first set of brazed Cornish chickens.

“Thank goodness,” Ruby muttered under her breath.

The food stalled the conversation—if you could call it that. Everyone had an excuse to look everywhere but at each other, and the only sound was that of cutlery moving against fine china. Ruby drew strength from every smiling glance Harrison sent her way.

“How long do you plan to stay in Chicago?” asked Mrs.Tremaine.

It was Mr.Barton who spoke next. “Through the first week of September. With the wedding planned for the end of August, we thought it best to see the happy couple settled. We haven’t seen much of Harrison since he moved here. And of course, to learn more about the beautiful young lady he wants to marry. A surprising turn of events.”

Ruby sat straighter in her chair.

“Surprising? How so?” asked Mrs.Tremaine.

Mr.Barton looked at his plate, then to his wife, his cheeks flushed.

“We heard that you’re very popular, Ruby.” Harrison’s older brother, Jeremiah, grinned at her, as if his words weren’t a chicken let loose in a kitchen.

Ruby glanced at Harrison, who stared at his brother. His face had gone stony, so unlike the open and playful expressions she was used to. “Ruby has a big heart. She’s friendly and open to giving people a chance to show her who they are.”

Jeremiah Barton continued, unfazed. “Before Harrison, you’d had your eyes set on your friend’s brother, no?”

This is your own doing, she told herself. She tried not to fidget in her seat. “John Davenport and I grew up together,” she began before Harrison could speak. “Olivia, his sister, is my best friend. I—” She stopped. The faces around the table watched her expectantly. But what was she supposed to say? She’d told Harrison the truth the day she turned up on his doorstep in a half-fastened, unpaid-for dress, confessing her love and asking him to give her—them—another chance. And he had.

“The Davenports are very close family friends,” her mother explained. Mrs.Tremaine dipped her head, and Ruby sat very still. “But no one knows her own heart better, and Ruby picked the best man for her,” Mrs.Tremaine finished. There was a silent beat. Ruby looked up at her, her own eyes stinging with unshed tears. For weeks, Ruby and her mother had played a silent tug-of-war. Her mother and father did not like her decision, though Harrison’s investment in the campaign and his obvious love for their daughter had softened their demeanor somewhat. The results of the campaign, the surfacing of these vile rumors—it had simply left them all reeling. The men working on her father’s campaign were surveying the community now, conducting investigations into the election results, hoping their white counterparts could get answers from the voters they polled.

Ruby hoped to find some answers of her own. Who had started the rumors? How many believed them? She was surprised and comforted to have her mother step in just now. Things between her and her parents may have been chilly in private, but perhaps they too, by now, attributed the remarks about her character to mere malicious gossip. Ruby hoped they did. Her father had not, as of yet, made any mention of his awful words to her the night of the election. She dared to look at him now. With his hands steepled under his chin, it was clear he had no intention of adding to her mother’s comment.

The two mothers at the table exchanged tight smiles now.

Ruby repressed a sigh. This is going to be a long dinner.

Mr.Barton turned to her father. “The results of the election are a blow, to be sure,” Harrison’s father said. “What are your plans, Mr.Tremaine?”

Ruby’s father leaned forward in his chair and said, “I mean to enjoy this meal.”

“Yes, of course, but surely, you’ve thought past that.”

“Mr.Tremaine has done a great deal for the community,” said Harrison. He turned to Ruby’s father. “Enjoying a lovely meal is well less than he deserves.”

“Harrison—” Mr.Tremaine began.

Ruby’s whole body tensed as she waited.

“That is kind of you to say.” The words came out more air than sound. They seemed distant.

Mrs.Barton placed her fork beside her plate. “The election may be in the past, but the rumors are not.” She looked at Ruby, who fought with all her might not to shrink in her seat—in her own home! “Perhaps,” Mrs.Barton continued, “the children should be more discreet until the worst of it blows over.”

“Mother,” said Harrison, the hard look he’d had for his brother now shifted to shock.

“It should only be a few weeks.” She picked up her fork again and speared a diced potato. “As long as nothing untoward happens, your plans shouldn’t change.”

“Untoward?!” Mr.Tremaine was half out of his seat. His words were directed to Harrison’s mother but his gaze was on Ruby. She shifted in her chair, gripping her fork tightly, and swallowed the ache in her throat. Things were spiraling out of control.

“Yes,” continued Mrs.Barton. She looked at her young daughter for confirmation but the girl avoided eye contact, instead choosing to readjust the napkin on her lap. Anne-Marie Barton hadn’t said a word since arriving and greeting Ruby and the Tremaines. The girl watched everyone, quietly, like a naturalist observing a rare and hostile flock of birds. “ Unfounded rumors are like storms,” Mrs.Barton continued. “They breeze in with a fuss and disappear before you know it.”

Ruby recognized the defensive look on Harrison’s face. She had to defuse this situation. Fast. “Yes, Papa. Whoever’s spreading these awful rumors may not stop until they’re caught or get bored. We are wise to take extra care for a little while.”

Mr.Tremaine resumed his seat. The muscle above his left eye was twitching. At the other head of the table, Ruby felt her mother’s anger like the heat from a roaring fire. She released a shaky breath once her father calmly took a sip of wine.

“Mr.Barton,” her father said, his composure restored. “I hear that you sold your family plantation. Land is a form of wealth denied to many.” He paused. “I was surprised you’d do away with it.”

Mr.Barton now shifted uncomfortably. “The land had a lot of bad memories. I decided to leave with the few good ones and start anew.”

“Still, that could have passed to your children. They may have wanted land tied to the people who came before them.”

Mrs.Barton set her fork down—again. “I was one of the people tied to that land, Mr.Tremaine—shackled to it—and I want none of it now, nor do I want my children to carry that burden.” She sat straighter in her chair. “I’ve carried enough,” she said quietly. The determination in her features dared anyone to contradict her, and Ruby felt a surge of feeling for the woman. Mr.Barton reached for his wife’s hand, her fist relaxing into his open palm.

With that, Margaret reappeared with the next course. The party lapsed into another stretch of silence. By the time dessert was brought out, Ruby was ready to escape into the maze in the backyard and stay there with Harrison forever. Her mother played hostess, escorting the Bartons to the back patio, where whiskey, lemonade, and sweet tea were offered. Ruby helped serve, watching Harrison speak with his mother at the edge of the maze. He looked tense and anxious.

Mrs.Barton placed a hand on her son’s cheek, and his eyes fluttered closed. He covered her hand with his own and nodded. It took all of Ruby’s strength not to march there immediately and demand to know what was being said. If this dinner was any indication of how their engagement was to go, she feared things would only get worse from here. The wedding to take place late August was Ruby’s own personal finish line. She and Harrison could keep things together until then, couldn’t they?

“Ruby, it’s not polite to stare,” said Mrs.Tremaine.

Ruby watched until they parted, until Mrs.Barton returned to the table and accepted a tall glass of tea that had been sweating on a white napkin while she consoled her son.

Harrison still stood at the entrance to the maze. Distantly, Ruby heard her mother begin the story of what Chicago was like when she was Ruby’s age. “It wasn’t as crowded as it is now, nor as developed. But soon, there were far more Black and brown faces all over the city than when I first arrived.”

“And I was among them—lucky enough to arrive in 1884,” said Mr.Tremaine. “My parents’ family were sharecroppers in Georgia, and I would travel north to sell the cotton they produced to the textile companies.”

“Is this how you came to own your own textile factory?” asked Mr.Barton.

“It was. I was happy the day I was able to buy the land we’d worked from the owners and give it to my parents,” said Ruby’s father. “Mrs.Tremaine and I met after service at Olivet Baptist Church. She sang in the choir.” Mr.Tremaine looked across the table and for a moment, all the tension from dinner disappeared. Ruby had heard this tale so many times, she could recite it by heart. He just had to find the singer with that beautiful voice. Then would come the tale of their long courtship, and how they eventually met the Davenports and became close friends. This was Ruby’s chance.

She crossed the yard to her fiancé.

“Would you like to take a walk?” Her voice was quiet.

Harrison offered her his arm and a smile, but didn’t say anything as they entered the maze.

“It came with the house,” she said.

“Hmm?”

“The hedges planted and trimmed to make this maze. That is the story my mother is telling your family right now. It always follows the one about how she came to the city in the first place. That the maze came with the house, that when she saw it, she fell in love instantly.”

“Is that not true?”

“No. My mother did not fall in love so easily, nor does she let her emotions guide her actions.” Ruby stopped at a fork in the maze and plucked a yellowed leaf from the sea of green. “She had these hedges planted. She wanted something that would set us apart. From others in the neighborhood. From her best friends, the Davenports. The hedge made this house, and us, special.”

“Ruby, you don’t need a house or a hedge to make you special.”

She laughed. “I know,” she said.

Harrison smiled. He turned and took both her hands in his. “I’m glad you know.” The way he looked at her made her heart flutter. This was a feeling she hoped to always have with him. However, the longer he looked at her, the more unsure she became.

“What is it?” she asked.

He hesitated, but kept his eyes on hers. “My family has some concerns.”

Ruby let her hands fall from his. “Like what?”

“They know of your past history with John Davenport, your flirtations with other gentlemen, and the donations I made to your father’s campaign. None of which would have been a problem if not for the more recent rumors.”

Ruby felt her eyes begin to sting. She took a step back, but Harrison scooped her hands into his again and brought her closer to him.

“I don’t care what my family says. It’s you and me. I told you because there could be…interference, and I don’t want you to be caught off guard.” He kissed her temple. “Ruby Tremaine, I want to marry you more than anything.” He cupped her face like a precious thing. His gaze felt like a caress, more gentle and intimate than the feel of his skin on hers. When his mouth met hers, she felt a rush all the way down. She arched up to meet him, to deepen their kiss. His lips parted easily. The taste of him, salty sweet, the scent of him, sage with something distinctly his own, it made her breathless. His tongue slipped past her lips, sending shivers down her body, despite the heat. She pulled him closer. One of his hands moved to the middle of her back, holding on to her, and she to him, holding on to this kiss.

When they parted, Harrison’s breaths were as ragged as her own. He smiled at her, and she could have died right there. He said, “You and me—”

“Together,” Ruby finished for him.

She wondered if it could still be that simple.

And if she and Harrison should get a maze of their own.