Page 84 of Under the Tulip Tree
I sat up, rubbing sleep from my eyes. Why was Alden calling? He’d volunteered to go to Mr. Carlson’s office with me this afternoon. I hoped he hadn’t changed his mind. The thought of facing the stern head of the Federal Writers’ Project alone left a knot in my stomach.
With my bathrobe and slippers on, I descended the stairs to the nook in the hallway where the telephone receiver lay on a small table.
“Hello? Alden?”
“Hi, Rena.”
Something in his voice sent a chill racing up my spine. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to tell you something, but I’d rather do it in person. Can I come over?”
I swallowed hard. Had Mr. Carlson already learned of my family ties to Frankie? “Tell me now.”
A heavy sigh came over the line. “Jael called the boardinghouse this morning.”
My heart seemed to stop beating. “Why? Is Frankie ill?”
But in the next moment I knew. I knew before Alden said the dreaded words.
“She passed away in her sleep last night, Rena. She’s gone.”
The crack in his voice was my undoing.
I closed my eyes against the pain gripping my soul. “Nooo.” The wail brought my sister running, but I couldn’t speak. I just fell to the floor, sobbing.
Mary took the receiver from my hand. I don’t know what she said to Alden, but a moment later I was cradled in her arms.
I cried until there was nothing left inside me. Mary smoothed my hair and rubbed my back, like I was one of her children. When my sobs and hiccups quieted, I heaved a shuddering breath.
“Thanks,” I croaked when she handed me a handkerchief. I dried my tears and blew my nose but remained on the hardwood floor.
“I’m sorry, Lulu. I know she was special to you.”
I nodded without looking at Mary.
“Mr. Norwood said he’d call on you this afternoon.”
I nodded again. With great effort, I rose to my feet.
Mary rose too. “You should eat something. Do you want some coffee?”
I shook my head. “I just want to be alone right now.” I turned toward the stairs but stopped and faced her again. “Thank you, Mary.”
When I entered my room, my eyes immediately went to the stack of papers on the desk. Tears came again as I lifted the top sheet. The words blurred, but it didn’t matter. I knew them by heart.
I was born on the Halls’ plantation. Don’t know exactly where their place was, but it were about a day’s ride to Nashville, I ’spect. Mammy always said I was born in 1835 when the leaves started changin’ color.
With the story in hand, I crawled back into bed and cried myself to sleep. When I woke, it was nearly two o’clock. Mary must have come in at some point because a tray with a sandwich and a cup of now-cold tea sat on my bedside table. My stomach rebelled at the sight of food, but I gratefullysipped the tea. Alden would be here soon, so I needed to clean myself up.
I was pulling on a dark-navy dress when Mary poked her head through the doorway.
“How are you?”
I shrugged. “It hurts.”
Sympathy shone in my sister’s eyes. “I’m really sorry, Lulu.” She came over and fastened the clasp at the back of my dress. “I don’t know what I can do, but if you need anything or just want to talk...”
“Thank you.” I noticed the house was quiet despite three rambunctious children in residence. “Where are the kids?”
