She had wanted to hear those words from him, but now that she got them, she did not know what to do with them. She did not feel the satisfaction she had thought she would.

He lifted her gown and fumbled with the rags tied around her. He was naked and she was fully clothed.

“You’re bleeding?” he asked.

She nodded.

“That’s okay,” he answered. “I don’t mind.”

She had always hated that Drayle was foul enough to occasionally take her when she was bleeding. Men were not supposed to do such things. And she did not know how to tell him she was not bleeding in the way he assumed. Her stomach rolled, and she fought at the bitter taste in her throat as he pushed his way into her.

She screamed out, and he put a hand over her mouth.

“Quiet!”

He did not move his hand from her mouth, and she felt she could not breathe. She wanted to stop breathing, so she would not have to deal with this anymore. She would lose Rabbit and Nate, but she would join her unborn baby. She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath.

When he was finished, she could smell the stink of her own body.

He used the end of her gown to clean himself, leaving streaks of red.

“My Lizzie,” he said, not looking at her. He left the door open.

The next day, Lizzie felt worse.

Clarissa was climbing the stairs to her room. Lizzie could tell by the way the steps creaked. Every other step, the woman stopped to get her breath. When Lizzie heard her coming, she knew it was important.

“Your mistress want us to move you. She want you to come to the cabin.”

Lizzie shook her head, remembering Drayle’s visit. “Tell her I can’t work just yet.”

“She know that, Miss Lizzie. She want you to come over there so she can get you better. At least that’s what they tell me.”

The only thing that was going to get her well, Lizzie thought, was the proper expulsion of this baby. Once the baby and all its remnants were gone, she would be better.

If Drayle would just leave her alone, it would be a matter of time before she got better. In that cottage, she was more vulnerable to his desires. Fran would make her a pallet on the floor and fuss over her for a while before using her as a giant ear. The real problem, Lizzie knew, would be the night. Drayle would have no problem taking her on the floor of the living room while Fran slept on the other side of the wall.

“I ain’t going,” Lizzie said.

Clarissa shook her head. “Oh no. You not gone get me in trouble. You going. That’s why I came up here to tell you myself.”

Lizzie tried to sit up, and Clarissa helped her. “Miss Lizzie, this just the life you got. Until you do something about it, you got to deal with what the Lord bring you.”

Lizzie she was surprised to hear these words from the woman. Until you do something about it. Was that a message?

“Miss Clarissa, you can’t help me down those stairs. You better send that young girl up here.”

“You best believe I ain’t gone help you nowhere. I just came up here to deliver the news and let you know I’m here for you if you need me. And I’m gone send over food for you each day now. You hear?”

Lizzie nodded weakly.

You know we were only supposed to stay here two weeks. We’re lengthening our trip on account of you,” Fran said.

Lizzie sat in the bundle of sheets on the floor and leaned back on the sofa. Fran had done a good job of securing the rags around her private area. But neither wanted to risk her getting blood on the couch, so she sat on the floor for the time being.

“I appreciate that, Miss Fran.”

Fran sat at the table staring at Lizzie. She sipped from a glass of water. Every now and then, she looked as if she wanted to ask a question.

“Where’s Mr. Drayle?” Lizzie asked. She was still nervous that he would return that night and try to have his way with her.

“He’s with the men.”

“Oh.”

Lizzie looked down again. She wanted to be alone.

“You know, I was always jealous of you.”

“Jealous?”

“Of course. You never knew?”

“No, ma’am. I’m just a slave, Miss Fran, and an ugly one at that.”

Fran looked down into her water. “So many things. I was jealous because you gave him children when I couldn’t. Jealous he brought you to this summer resort without me. It was downright disrespectful!”

Lizzie had thought about this, but she had never questioned the unwavering rule of white men. They did what they wanted. That was the way of the world.

“Lizzie, envy and hate are two different things. I envied you. But I did not, and I do not hate you.”

Lizzie nodded. She understood the difference between the two words. What she did not understand was the difference in how Miss Fran would treat her based on the distinction. If Miss Fran did not hate her, why was she trying to make her children go work in the fields?

FORTY-TWO

That night, Fran slept on the sofa in the living room while Lizzie slept on the floor. In the other room, Drayle slept alone in the bed. Lizzie woke to the strange arrangement, startled. She could hear Drayle snoring. As soon as Lizzie moved to rearrange her gown, Fran woke up.

“Lizzie?”

“Yes, Miss Fran?”

Fran opened her eyes and pushed up onto her elbows. Her eyes were swollen, as if she had not slept well.

“Everything fine?”

Lizzie realized that Fran was keeping watch over her, making sure that Drayle did not try anything. Fran had never done such a thing before, so Lizzie was confused.

“Well, I am a bit thirsty. But I’ll get it.”

“No.” Fran swung her legs off the sofa. “I’ll get it.”

Lizzie listened to the pump outside. It made a swishing noise. When Fran returned, she had a glass for both of them. She sat on the sofa beside Lizzie and they drank quietly.

The water refreshed her. Lizzie remembered what Fran had told her earlier, and she felt an urge to reassure her in some way.

“Miss Fran?”

“Yes?”

It was dark, but the moon shone through the window and before long, the shadows in the room had brightened. Fran’s curly hair had become unpinned, and there were a few tendrils framing her face. Lizzie looked at her and thought to herself that it was she who had envied Fran, not the other way around. It was she-Lizzie-who would have given anything at one point to be in Fran’s place, to have Fran’s lustrous hair and skin and position.

In this unfamiliar setting, Lizzie could clearly make out Fran’s vulnerability. The white woman stared at Lizzie as if she needed to know what the younger slave woman wanted to say to her, as if she didn’t have a closer friend in the world who understood the problems of her intimate domestic life better than Lizzie did.

“The reason I’ve been sick is because I drank a tea.”

Fran nodded. But Lizzie could see that she did not understand. She had never been pregnant, and she did not make the connection.

“A tea that gets rid of a baby.”

“Oh!” Fran’s hand flew to her mouth and the sound that escaped was enough to stop Drayle’s snoring. Lizzie heard him grunt, shift, and settle again.

Fran leaned forward and her breath blew across Lizzie’s face. “I ought to slap you!” she said.

It was not the reaction Lizzie had expected. “But I didn’t want it. I didn’t want another baby.” She wanted Fran to know she was not intentionally having any more children with the woman’s husband, that something inside of her had changed. Couldn’t Fran see it?

“How could you?”

Lizzie was silent. She didn’t know what to say. She could see the shine of Fran’s eyes.

“Did Nathan know?”

Lizzie shook her head. Would it make Fran feel better if Drayle had known? Lizzie tried hard to figure out the right thing to say.

Fran wiped an eye. She touched Lizzie on the shoulder. “I am sorry. I am sorry for you.”