Mawu gave her an empty look and said, “What boy.”
“Reenie?” Sweet said. They looked over at the other side again. Reenie had lifted her skirt and was standing in the shallow part of the water.
“I thought she wouldn’t set foot near the water,” Lizzie said. Reenie had told them that she was so afraid of water she wouldn’t even allow the preacher to baptize her in a knee-deep pond.
“Guess she done changed her mind,” Mawu said.
Lizzie waved at Reenie. The woman closed her eyes and turned up to the sun. Lizzie caught a glimpse of Reenie’s younger self. It reminded her of the first time she had met her. They had been almost certain they might be kin. They’d later learned they weren’t related by blood at all. But they were still close and each seemed to know exactly what the other was thinking. Sometimes. Right then, Lizzie thought she knew what Reenie was feeling. The water felt like relief. Being in it made it easy to forget the words, licks, disappointments that had sliced at every little part of them over the years.
Reenie stepped deeper into the water. The pool rose to her thighs, hips, stomach. The three women watched, perhaps believing Reenie would paddle over to the other side and join them. So when Reenie took one more step and disappeared beneath the surface, none of them reacted right off.
The drops of water on Lizzie’s skin turned cold. “Reenie!” She sprang into the water, followed closely by Mawu. The mineral pool dropped off swiftly from the wide shallow ridge to the deeper center, and when Lizzie saw Reenie bob up out of the water, coughing, then down again, her arms flailing, she knew the woman had already taken in a mouthful of water. It seemed Lizzie could not reach her fast enough. She wiggled her body, moving through the water like a fish.
She could see Reenie’s dark mass in the clear water ahead of her. When she reached her, Lizzie locked an arm around Reenie’s neck and tried to pull. The older woman punched the water with her fists. Lizzie could see her opening her eyes and mouth. Bubbles raced to the surface. She caught Lizzie in the face with an elbow and Lizzie sank, momentarily stunned. Lizzie had a piece of dress in her hand, but she wasn’t sure which part.
Mawu clutched Reenie from the other side, and pulled at one of Reenie’s arms. Mawu hadn’t sucked in enough air, and was clearly struggling to get to the surface herself. Reenie kicked Mawu in the stomach, and Mawu choked. The three of them burst through the surface of the water, sputtering and Lizzie finally felt the ground beneath her toes.
“What was you doing?” Mawu demanded when she had caught her breath and was standing on the shallow ridge, the rocks beneath her bare feet. Sweet was sitting on the grassy bank, her stroke not good enough for her to help the other women. She was crying softly, hugging her knees.
“Leave me be, leave me be,” Reenie said.
“What do you mean, leave you be,” Lizzie said as she and Mawu pulled Reenie up onto the bank.
The three women sprawled out on the grass. Lizzie tried not to think about what all of them were trying not to think about. Reenie coughed up water, loud hoarse coughs from deep within her chest. Lizzie looked down at Reenie’s hand and saw it before the others. The tip of Reenie’s finger was missing. It looked as if it had been sliced cleanly off. The skin had grown over the wound and it looked blunt and hard.
“Get up.” Mawu motioned to Reenie.
When Reenie didn’t respond, Mawu said it again with more force. “I said get up.”
Reenie sat up, her bottom lip quaking. She muttered something the rest of them did not understand. Lizzie helped Reenie to her feet and pulled the wet dress over her head. She wrung it out over the grass. Reenie’s naked body stood wrinkled and thin in the afternoon light.
“Shut up with all that mumbling,” Mawu said, still talking in her mean voice. Again, Reenie listened. The talking stopped.
They waited for Lizzie to get as much water out of the dress as she could. Lizzie put her own dry dress on Reenie and put the wet one on herself. The coarse cloth would dry quickly in the sun.
After they had all dressed, they walked toward the cottages, quietly, as if to fend off the admission that Reenie had almost crossed a line they dare not mention. Mawu had been the only one of them with enough courage to stand up and say Reenie was not going to take them to that dark place.
Sweet walked beside Reenie and held on to the woman’s elbow. Behind them, Mawu and Lizzie watched Reenie’s back, poised to catch her should she fall. The cold of the wet dress numbed Lizzie’s skin. Mawu moved toward her and put an arm around her waist. Lizzie leaned into her, hoping it meant she was forgiven but suspecting the gesture had nothing to do with her.
They walked back to the resort, four shadowed figures holding in yet another secret on only their third day back in Ohio that summer.
TWENTY-SEVEN
For the next three days, Drayle traveled with the men to hunt and fish. Lizzie kept herself busy by going to the hotel each morning. The colored servants readily doled out chores, and Lizzie was glad for the work. She tried dutifully to get everything done, all the while observing the white women as they preened over their hair, chatted about the latest fashion, fussed over their children. They were mostly cincinnati women, up for a short vacation with their husbands, wives of elected officials, lawyers, businessmen. The hotel offered suites of rooms for families choosing not to rent cottages.
While working in the main hotel, Lizzie learned that while the men went off together, the women stayed behind and relinquished secrets to one another.
One woman whispered of a lover half her age who liked to kiss the soles of her feet.
Another spoke of her ill mother and how she would be relieved when the elder woman finally “met her Maker.”
A petite woman who looked very young to be married, even to Lizzie, spoke of how she sometimes spanked her servant on the bottom, giggling as she described how she forced the woman to pull down her underpants and bend over.
Between snatches of gossip, Lizzie admired their dresses-floating affairs that were fuller than any dresses she had ever seen. She was so curious about these that she sneaked into one of the rooms so she could rummage through the armoire. She found a hoop with wires of metal. Did they put this over their petticoats? Lizzie knew she would never recover from the thrill of these skirts. Even Miss Fran didn’t own one. Before the white women headed into town, they put on the finishing touches: bonnet, gloves, a small cape, and sometimes a parasol. And the shoes! Delicate little things held tight by ribbons.
When they wanted to bathe in the outdoor spring, the women changed into dark, woolen dresses with weighted hems. They met in the hotel lobby, tugging at their puffy hair bonnets as they chatted excitedly.
But Lizzie was especially impressed by the marvelous expense of the children’s outfits. She had never seen children so adorned. From the cover of her broomstick or dusting rag, she observed the young ones-the smart hats, expertly gathered knickers, ruffles, lace, ribbons, and bows. She had never known a child to wear silk before. It was too expensive. But some of the older girls wore dresses in the style of their mothers-in cotton and silk.
On the day before Drayle was to return, Lizzie took Mawu with her to the house. They chose to clean the front parlor where a group of white women sat around a table with bowls in front of them. A woman dressed in white spoke as she circled the table. The women stirred their concoctions. Lizzie and Mawu tried to get close enough to peer inside the bowls. The substance was yellowish brown and smelled like lemon. After much stirring, they spread the thick substance onto their faces. Then the leader of the group told them to wait for a few moments while it hardened. One woman claimed that her face burned. But the others said they felt they could feel their complexions clearing up.