What To Keep

“Do you know anyone who might repair the wall?”

“I can check around, but, honey, Magnolia Hall’s never been sold. Any of your mama’s family out there in Nevada? Or a boyfriend that might help you?”

“No and no.” I make check marks in the air with my right index finger.

“Then that’s not much of a home to go back to.”

“But it’s where I live, work. I can’t deal blackjack here.”

“You have a house here. You could do something else.”

It seems like years since I stood at my apartment window and looked over the parking lot, read the pink slip from the Golden Nugget.

“What did your mother think of your husband?”

I look at Tildy. She’s smiling. It’s amazing how her mind slips from one subject to another. Maybe she does have a screw loose.

“Ex-husband. And she died before I met him.”

I met Bill one night with some people from work. We went to the Paris Hotel to eat at the buffet. The Paris is supposed to make visitors feel like they’re in France. Bill was dealing blackjack. The man had great hands, a great body. As he was shuffling the cards, he looked at me, winked. Twenty minutes later on his break, he walked around the table and started talking, and that was the end of my life as I knew it. Before Bill, I paid the rent, the gas, the lights; after, my overdrawn checkbook tells the story.

We went out the next night and Bill told me he was dealing blackjack until he could get his computer company started. Claimed he had a degree in computer science. Right!

Three months later we were married. He charged things on my credit cards, didn’t pay one goddamned bill, then split with everything I owned.

“What do you think she would have thought of your husband?” Tildy asks, smiles again.

“Who?”

“Your mama.”

“She probably wouldn’t.” I look around the kitchen. “My mother didn’t have much use for husbands.”

CHAPTER 5

Magnolia Hall

April 1861

Mama made the trip out to visit day before yesterday. She fawned over the new house and my husband, claimed he is perfect for her daughter, then raised her eyebrow in that way she has, and I knew what she really meant. That I was spoiled and might not deserve the things I have.

She went on about the brightness of the rooms, the nice, new furniture. And, oh, she talked about the china, the silver tea set and the green brocade for settees James has brought back from Raleigh and Charleston. On and on she trilled!

“My daughter is so blessed to have all these possessions.”

Mama loves pretty things. She always says that beautiful possessions make a house a home. She buys even though Father lectures her about spending so much money on furnishings. It is the one thing she does not listen to.

As she roamed the house, she talked about how impressed her friends were going to be when they saw the lovely home her daughter’s husband had provided.

I asked when her friends would be arriving and Mama just smiled and informed me I should ready myself for them to call any day.

A married woman must be prepared for visitors any time, day or evening. Then she went on to tell me how fortunate I am. We stood in the hallway by the stairs, and she stopped for a moment, looked at me a long time then took my hand in hers. She bit her bottom lip until all the color was gone, then whispered,

“Do you love your husband, Charlotte? Tell Mama you are happy.”

Her brown eyes looked so serious, I could not hurt her so I nodded, just once. The small lie seemed to make her feel better.

“I knew you would. Father always makes the right decisions. Now when my friends come to visit, show them everything, and be sure to act as happy as you are.”

I’m not looking forward to visitors, yet I kept this a secret from Mama, too.

Suddenly Mama laughed and announced that soon, if I am a good wife, we will fill our home with babies and Mr. Alexander and I would be considered old married folk.