Milk and Coffee

Chapter One

"Stop it! Stop!" I yelled as I witnessed my father continually hit Jeremiah with his whip. I tried running  towards him but my legs were cemented to the ground. I couldn't move. Red now flowed down his brown back, taking away his beautiful color. "Father! Father! Stop Please!" my father turned towards me and I could see the devil in his eyes. In his fist was his right hand man, O Be Joyful. He slung the bottle towards me and hit me right in the chest. The brownish-liquid stained my white nightgown and my tears stained my cheek. "Theresa, you must learn. This is not right." I yanked at my feet with my hands to try to get them unstuck. My nails dug into my skin and red flowed down my pale white legs. I looked back at Jeremiah, he didn't say anything but his eyes begged me to stop. He knew if I went anywhere near him my father would hurt me as well. Color divided us but we both still bleed the same red.
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    I awoke with a scream and sat straight up in bed. Jeremiah comes rushing in my door, "Missus, are you okay?
    I calm my heavy breaths and give him a response, "Yes, Jeremiah. It was just a nightmare, a really really bad nightmare." I moved to the edge of the bed and he handed me my robe. My feet dangled over, no where near the floor. He came and sat beside me.
    "Do you want to talk about it, Madame?"
    "Jeremiah, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that? My name is Tessa," my father was the only one who called me Theresa, he said it was proper, "and I want you to call me that." He laughs and those butterflies in my stomach flutter like they do every time he smiles.
"I don't think you'll want to hear it," I give him a lopsided smile.
"No, I don't mind," I want to tell him, I do, but it also scares me to know what he will think. I've never actually seen my father injure one of his workers but I have heard things. One day when I was walking to the kitchen to fetch a little snack, I heard two women in there talking.
"Master James done whipped Mark so bad after he collapsed in the field yesterday."
"Yes, he's gonna be in bed for a good while, I've done tried everything I know. Those wounds just won't close. If he doesn't heal anytime soon, he might not make it." On those last final words my throat swell and my knees shook. I silently sunk to the ground and tears escaped my eyes. My father? No, no, not him. The hot North Carolina sun shined down on me as I did so. That night as I was undressing the spots of skin visible where red with sunburn and it hurt. I think the sun was trying to show me pain but I knew it was nowhere near the amount of pain Mark went through and was going through right now.
About a week later Mark passed away. I heard from the kitchen staff, I had starting sitting, listening to their conversations outside. My father killed a man and could still sit at the dining table with us each night? When I asked Jeremiah what happened he shied his eyes away from me, not knowing I knew and not wanting to tell the truth, "He got sick and couldn't get over it and, well, he passed away."
"I'm so sorry," I reached out and grabbed his hand. He didn't hold it back but looked in my eyes. I assured him it was okay and he grabbed ahold. That was the first time I ever felt the butterflies. Real actual butterflies. Before they were just little leaps of emotion when I'd see him poke at the fireplace to keep it going and the muscles in his back would move underneath his shirt or when he'd walk past me and I could smell the scent he always carried around.
Ever since we were children we would play. Hide and go seek, tag, or just make believe. He was always a bit older than me, not by much. He was not sure exactly when his birthday is but he knows he was born in the spring which makes him 18. My birthday is November 14th, 1843 and I am 16. Two years separate us but there is much, much more than that.
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As I snap back into reality, Jeremiah is staring at me."Tessa, are you okay?" His worried eyes make me nervous.
"Yes, I'm fine but I don't really want to talk about it," disappointment covers his face.
"Well, if you need me, I'm just a scream away," he laughs and places his hand on my knee, a friendly gesture, but it meant so much more. He stood up and took a step towards the door.
I step towards him, "Wait," he turned around and we were face to face. I had never been this close to anyone before, let alone a boy. I stared in his rich eyes. I don't know who initiated it, maybe it was me, maybe it was him but it happened. Our lips joined together and formed  little thing I've only read in books, a kiss. I had never seen my parents kiss, when my brother got married to his wife, Isabel, they kissed at the ceremony but everyone knows they aren't really in love. He married Isabel because she is connected to some line of royalty over in France, I'm not sure how but with my father's wealth and her status they are powerful. Which brought my father even more money and land.
Our kiss is slow but hungry, it's something we had both wanted for a very long time. All of a sudden Jeremiah abruptly pulls away, "I'm so sorry," he says and darts out the door leaving me standing there alone, at a loss for words, and hurt.
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    Jeremiah hasn't been there for the past week. My helper, Sarah, told me he was sick and sent another boy named William in his place. I began to get sick myself, lovesick. My heart ached and my muscles were sore. I was in bed unless I was on trips to the library to get a new book. The last time I was away from him this long was when we were younger and he had to go work in the fields. He would carry a huge pail of water around to the other men and women in the field. The few chances I got to see him I would beg to come help him but the sound in his voice when he told me no made me scared enough not to ask again.
    I would then spend my days tailing my mother around like a lost dog. I loved my mother before but now I worshipped the ground she walked on. Every afternoon she and I would curl up in a corner of the library and she would read to me. Even though I was old enough to read myself, my mother would make each character have a different voice and brought the stories to life. She was everything I ever wanted to be. When she walked it was if she was dancing with each step. She was the smartest person I knew and could tell you about a place and make it sound like she grew up there. She was also beautiful, inside and out. I've never seen anything as beautiful as her. She had long, dark, almost black, brown hair and bright, crystal blue eyes. My father has blonde hair and green eyes making my older brother, Thomas, favor my father and I, my mother. We were a beautiful family, known for our charming looks and deep pockets. Mother used to spend a lot of time at her desk writing. I always asked what she was writing but her same response was, "You will see one day."
That 'one day' never came. The winter of 1854 was a cold and harsh one. My mother was large and round and pregnant. The baby was due in a couple of weeks and Mother hobbled around the house constantly rubbing her swollen stomach. We had all guessed what gender the baby was. Father and Thomas guessed a boy of course but I prayed for a girl. Mother didn't weigh in but instead said she'd be happy either way, but knew she wanted a baby girl as well.
One extremely cold December day Mother was walking up the steps when she sat down and yelled, "MY WATER BROKE!"
I assembled the birthing women as quickly as I could and we helped Mother into her bed. I sat by her side until she went into labor and then held her hand through that. I was scared, she gripped my hand so hard it hurt but I didn't say anything, I was just happy to be near her. The women bustled around the room. One sat at the end of the bed ready to catch the baby. Father wasn't in the room because he said the sight of blood makes him sick, but I think he is being comforted by that flask of fireball attached to his hip. Mother doesn't seem to mind his absence.
Many hours later, I've lost count, a beautiful baby boy is born. There were a few complications but Mother is fine now, smiling and holding her new baby. Both the baby and Mother are cleaned up and Father and Thomas enter the room. Father has that thick scent of Fireball surrounding him and Thomas, like every other fifteen year old boy, is acting uninterested but excited to see the baby.
"It's a boy, James," my mother addresses my father and smiles down on the baby, "His name is Tobias." Father peers over him,
"It's a bit small," he observes.
"He and yes he is and he is perf--" she doesn't finish her sentence but instead stares ahead of her as if she looked death right in the eyes. "There's something else," she says to the women in the corner. Her brownish-green eyes grew wide and she runs to tell the women to come back.
"Take Tobias," my mother says. She hasn't raised her voice once. I grabbed Tobias ad held him like I've seen other women hold babies, I've never done this. As the women crowd their way back in, Sarah grabs Tobias from me and places him in the crib, my father is nowhere to be seen. I'm sure he's of somewhere with his flask in hand and my brother probably out causing trouble.
"AHHH!" my mother yells, "I'm having another baby!" I grab my mother's hand once again and her grip is stronger than ever, I grit my teeth in pain and close my eyes.
"Wake up Ms. Emma, wake up!" I look at my mother and she has passed out. A wet rag is handed to me and I place it over her forehead.
"Mother! Mother! Wake up!" her eyes flutter and she glances my way smiling.
"You are beautiful, my daughter, " and closes her eyes back.
"No, Mother, stay awake," she struggles to keep her eyes open but does.
"Alright now, Ms. Emma, on the count of three, push. One. Two. Thr--"
"AHHH!" my mother grips my hand and screams.
"Okay, good, good. I can see the head. Again. One. Two. Three--"
"AHHHH!" and then the sound of a baby's cry flooded the air.
"It's a girl!" my mother smiles weakly, still trying to stay awake while they clean her and the baby up again. They hand her the baby,
"Her name is Tabitha," Tabitha was even smaller than Tobias, and he was tiny. Her cry brought tears to my eyes, both her and Tobias were gorgeous.
"Theresa," my mother used my full name, she never used my full name.
"Yes, Mother?"
"You have been the all that I could ask for and more in a daughter. You are so smart, so sweet. All that I even wished to be. I sometimes thank the Lord for blessing me with such wonderful children and now I bless Him for more. And your brother, he is a brilliant young man, like your father. Now here is your chance to prove to me how great of a young women you are. Take good care of Tobias and Tabitha for me--" I didn't understand where she was going at first but I understand now.
"Mother, what are you talking about? You can't die, I need you!" tears rolled down my face, staining the front of my dress.
"I love you my dear Tobias, Tabitha, and Thomas,"she says to the ceiling. She looks me in the eye, "And I love you, my daughter Theresa," a smile covers her face and she looks peaceful. I watch the burning light die out of her eyes and then they fell shut. The women all knew what had happened and quietly began to clean the room and get stuff together. Someone goes to get my father and tell him the news. Sarah takes Tabitha out of Mother's arms and places her in the crib beside her brother, my brother, my Tobias and my Tabitha. My siblings and my responsibility. She knew my father wouldn't look after them, she knew he wouldn't care, she knew I would.
Tears clouded my vision, thoughts clouded my mind. I wanted to be angry but I didn't know what at. My mother? No, she did what she could and brought four lives into this world. Tobias and Tabitha? No, no, they are innocent, a part of my mother, the same blood that runs through me runs through their tiny veins. My father? No, though he never treated her the best, he didn't cause her to die. The only person I could be angry with is God. This was His fault. He let my mother be ripped from me, from Tobias, Tabitha and Thomas.
I cried even harder, oh how angry my mother would be at me right now if she heard the thoughts I was having right now. The most faithful woman in the world left behind a sinner as a daughter.
I closed my eyes in prayer, asking the Lord for forgiveness on everything I just thought. My eyes opened and there across the room lay the babies in the crib cooing. I walked over and peered in the crib. Tobias and Tabitha smiled at me and I smiled back at them through tears. I could seen our mother shine through their blue eyes. I look at my lifeless mother on the bed and back to my siblings and know this is my life now and I was ready to take it on.
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