Come, Josephine

Chapter 34

   1928
   Ruth did not look as I had expected her to. My grandmother was smaller than mamma, perhaps only by an inch in height, but more so in frame. While mamma was strong and her skin glowed, Ruth was frail and grim. There were no two women who looked so similar, yet so different.
   Jack and I stood in the doorway while mamma approached the bed. Ruth watched her, silently, as she approached.
   "You asked for me?"
"Yes. Could you not have hurried to your poor mother?" Ruth said with an air of bitterness.
"Your letters did not arrive until spring," mamma said, "and we came as soon as we could."
Ruth scoffed and turned away, catching my eye as she did so. Something troubled crossed her face, but within a moment, it evaporated. She turned back to mamma, eyes blazing.
   "You are... with that- that man?" She said, glaring at Jack, "dare I say that you have outdone yourself, Rose? How ridiculous-"
   "Mother," she said, he voice cool, "I will leave if you cannot be civil to Jack."
   She didn't react, but turned her attention back to me. She evaluated me within a second. I could feel her stare on me as she moved from my hair, to my dress, to my boots. She did not look angered as she had with Jack, but a little irked. She forced a bitter smile.
   "This is your daughter, I imagine?" Ruth said, "and my granddaughter?"
   "Yes, mother."
   "How old is she?"
   "Sixteen."
There was a long pause, and I heard Jack shift his weight nervously behind me. I focused on the floor, and air burned in my lungs.
Ruth's face filled with disgust, "I don't want to think about what this entails."
Mamma stiffened in her chair, "what?"
Silence.
"Are you so terribly offended by my daughter's birth that you sneer at her? Mother, if it had been Cal's child, conceived out of wedlock, you would not have thought twice. Is it so bad that I have married for love to a kind, selfless man?"
He voice trembled with rage, disappointment, hurt. Her eyes glowed in the lamplight, her hair falling into her face. She did not move from the chair.
Ruth held her stare, "I gave you every opportunity to marry a good man- a wealthy one- to save our family. And you sneered at that, Rose."
"Because I was trapped! Mother, I was engaged at Josephine's age! How can you do that to a child? I wouldn't dare so much as suggest to my daughter that she should be betrothed- let alone to a man twice her age!"
"You were fortunate to find such a match-"
"I was a child!"
I felt Jack stir behind me, but I dare turn to look at him. I knew that there would be pained look on his face, and that his eyes would be trained on mamma. It terrified me.
"A mother has a duty to their children," mamma continued, "and you couldn't have given a damn about me. You wouldn't have cared if Cal beat me to death- Lord knows he had a good go of it- or if I had been physically trapped in a union with a man I despised. How could you?"
"I was desperate," she hissed, "how could you ruin the legacy I had built?"
   "What legacy? The money was gone, remember? Cal was your saviour, but he was my end!"
   There was a long pause, and mamma got to her feet. She left quietly, and Jack and I followed.
   Mamma did not cry as I had expected her to. She remained silent, careful and composed, as she hurried out of the house. The only sign of her distress was the hurried pace in which she left.
   Jack and I stood in the foyer. He glanced between me and the doorway, shuffling his feet as he did so.
   "Josie, you stay there," he said, and he was gone.
   I watched, completely powerless, as he sprinted after mamma. There was a hollow silence, an open door, and a bitter draft. I shut it, craving the click so that I might disrupt the noise of my heart hammering. I stood there for a quiet moment.
   "Miss Dawson?" The maid called down the stairs, "your grandmother wishes to see you."
   I hesitated. Did I really want to endure her scorn as mamma had? Did I want to hear the horrible things she had to say? Did I want to listen to her criticise mamma and Jack?
   I frowned, and went up the stairs. I went into the room, still holding my head high, but did not leave the doorway. Ruth sat where she had before, watching me, with eyes callous and cold.
I suppressed a gulp that I knew would be audible. I maintained eye contact, watching the woman evaluated me. A moment passed, and then another. At last, she spoke, "you look just like she did at your age- a little fairer, but yes, the likeness is uncanny."
I didn't respond. I watched her, as one must watch a wild cat. I did not dare move from the doorway, or draw so much as a shallow breath.
"You don't need to be afraid of me. It's your mother who made the mistake, not you."
"The mistake?" I kept my voice cool, composed, but I raged inside. I knew what she referred to, but I wanted to hear her say it. I wanted her to say it out loud so I could scorn her the way she scorned my mamma. I wanted to see her rage inside.
"Becoming entwined with that boy," she said it so matter-of-fact, as if Jack was a mere blemish. I gulped.
"My father is not the man you make him out to be," I let the anger seep out, "he's a good, kind, compassionate person."
"I didn't say he wasn't."
"But you imply that he is less than that," I kept my head high, my voice strong and steady, "I won't hear of it. I'll leave."
She tilted her head, "your mother had the same outlook, I believe, as that might explain her willingness to abandon me."
I remained silent.
"You act like her- so passionate, so wilful. Something is more sturdy about you, though."
The silence continued, and she sighed, "you should not have heard what I said. It is your mother who has... well, I am not pleased with her, still. Will you sit with me?"
I went to the chair that mamma had sat in before, and settled in beside her. I met her gaze a little shakily, but held it. I had nothing to say to her, regardless of her shallow apology.
"Why did my letters take so long to reach you?"
"We live in Wisconsin," I said, and the weather was terrible until spring. Everything was slow."
"Wisconsin?"
"Yes, we live in the same house my father grew up in. The farm is a little way outside of town- so when the blizzards hit, we had to make-do until it thawed."
"Do you live modestly?"
"No- well, yes, I suppose so. To many, we are we poor, but we have more than enough. We have everything we need, I suppose, and that's good enough."
She gave a frail smile. Silence engulfed us once more, and she turned to the dressing table across the room.
"Go over there," she said, "and take the first draw out of the jewellery box. There's an emerald necklace- take it."
I went across the room, and there stood a box carved out of mahogany. I removed the first draw and drew out the necklace.
The gold chain strung together a thick, layered row of emeralds. Studded and separated by clear gems, it was obvious it was a well-crafted, genuine piece, even to untrained eyes. I rubbed my fingers across them and watched the distorted light dance across the wall. I frowned.
"Are you sure?"
"I have no need for them. Sell them, if you wish."
"Thank you," I said, simply. I turned around to face her, and realised her face was greyed and tired. Exhaustion softened her expressions.
"I will leave now," I said, and slipped the necklace into the pocket of my dress. I stepped out into the hall, shut the door, and turned towards the stairs.
There, seated on the top step, sat Jack, his face tired and still. Something distressing hung on his shoulders, and yet I was too afraid to ask. Mamma was nowhere in sight.