Page 75 of Under the Tulip Tree
“Grandma, do you know anyone by the name Hall? I feel as though I’ve heard that last name before.”
She smiled. “Why, yes, dear. My grandmother’s maiden name was Hall.”
A tremor swept through me. “What was her name?”
“Helen. Helen Hall Morris.”
I let out a breath full of relief. That must be where I’d heard the name before. As common as it was, I’d felt unsettled ever since Frankie mentioned it. Thankfully, Grandma’s answer put those feelings to rest.
“Why do you ask, dear?”
We turned onto the walk leading to the front porch ofmy house. A carpet of gold and brown leaves decorated the concrete and lawn. “Frankie mentioned a family named Hall. I knew I’d heard it before, yet I couldn’t recall where. But the person Frankie knew was named Charlotte, not Helen.”
Grandma turned to face me, surprise in her widened eyes.
“Rena, my grandmother had a younger sister. Her name was Charlotte.”
The meal dragged on all night, or so it seemed.
Dad made a rare appearance at the table. He sat next to Buddy’s high chair and seemed to enjoy the antics of his two-year-old grandson. Holly sat on one side of Grandma Lorena while James sat on the other side, both of them bickering and vying for Grandma’s attention. Mama tried to keep Mary engaged in conversation about anything but her sad predicament.
I endured all this while keeping an eye on the clock. Were the hands on its face even moving? I was desperate to get Grandma alone.
One dreadful thought soured my stomach and prevented me from appreciating the fine meal.
Was Grandma’s great-aunt Charlotte the same Charlotte Hall whom Frankie had known as a child? Ripples of horror continued to roll through my mind as I considered the implications if that were true.
“Rena, you’ve barely touched your food,” Mama said, pulling me from my dark thoughts. “Do you feel well?”
I offered a weak smile. “I’m fine, Mama. Maybe a little tired.”
Her keen eyes narrowed. “You spend too much timeworking.” Her emphasis on the word as well as her look of disapproval drew Dad’s attention.
“I thought we decided you would quit that job.” He reached for his glass of water, looked at it with disgust, and set it back down.
My back stiffened. “It’s a perfectly respectable job with decent pay. There isn’t any reason to quit.” I glanced at Buddy as he swirled mashed potatoes on the tray of his chair. “Especially with four additional mouths to feed.”
I’d thought to throw in that last part to remind him of his lack of income, but it was Mary who looked hurt.
“I hope we won’t be a burden for long, Lulu.” She sniffled.
Mama sent me a glare, then softened as she patted Mary’s hand. “You and the children are not a burden, dear. This is your home, and you’re welcome here for as long as you need.”
Remorse over my careless comment washed away my ire with my father. “I didn’t mean you’re a burden, Mary. Like Mama said, this is your home.”
She offered a small nod, but I could tell I’d wounded her.
The meal finally drew to an end. I volunteered to wash the dishes since I hadn’t helped cook. Mary took the children upstairs to give them all baths and ready them for bed. Dad disappeared behind the study door, and Mama and Grandma went into the living room and spoke in hushed tones.
I sped through the kitchen work, anxious to walkGrandma home so we could talk. Anxiety had hold of my stomach when we were finally able to put on our coats and head outside.
“I enjoyed being with the family,” Grandma said, pulling up her fur collar to ward off the chilly night air. Stars twinkled in the black sky above as did lights in the neighbors’ windows.
“You should come more often.”
She chuckled. “Margaret couldn’t tolerate seeing her mother more than once a week.”
The comment was sadly true. “Has she always been like that?” I asked, thinking of the picture on Grandma’s mantel of Mama as a happy little girl.
