At that, her parents quieted and shame filled Louise. “I can make it to Los Angeles,” she whispered. “I’ll make you all proud of me.”
Mama rubbed her eyes in exhaustion. “We’ve been proud of you. Being a good daughter and sister is enough.”
“Well, it’s not enough for me.” Louise pushed her chair back and headed for her bedroom, leaving a silent kitchen in her wake.
THE NEXT MORNING Louise rose and dressed in a clean navy-blue skirt and matching knee socks, a cream-colored midi blouse, and a light gray wool cardigan that her grandmother had knitted for her. While her brother and sisters scrambled around the house, washing themselves, dressing, and eating, she made a pot of oatmeal and doled out bowls of it for each of them. After Mama and Papa left for work, she called goodbye to her siblings, cleaned the breakfast dishes, straightened the kitchen, and then made her way over to Dr. Conway’s house late enough that the household would be up and running, but early enough so that she could catch Mrs. Conway before she left the house on any errands or social calls. When she reached their house she paused, checking to see if Papa was anywhere nearby, but there was no sign of him so she circled around to the kitchen door at the back of the house and knocked.
Miss June, the housekeeper, opened the door. “Why aren’t you at school?”
“I need a job.”
Miss June harrumphed. “Your parents know about this?”
“Mama’s job could go away any day now. I need to line something up.”
“Louise Stokes, you’ve always been a stubborn girl. Why, I remember you in Sunday school when you drew that picture of the nativity scene. You remember what I’m talking about?” Miss June chuckled. “You drew that little round man in the corner of your nativity scene picture and when Miss Hayes asked you who it was, you said, ‘Round John Virgin, ma’am.’ She tried to correct you and sang you the correct lyrics of ‘Silent Night,’ but you refused to budge. Not until the reverend came down and showed you the lines in the hymnbook and explained to you what ‘Round yon virgin mother and child’ meant did you back down.” She laughed and shook her head, repeating, “Round John Virgin.”
Louise gave a grudging nod. “I still think it’s strange that everyone cared so much about what was in my nativity scene.”
Miss June’s chest stopped heaving with silent laughter and she became serious. “Miss Hayes wanted to make sure you understood that scene. She didn’t want you going about your life with such a mistake and embarrassing yourself in school. She knew every opportunity to teach a colored student the correct way to say something was important for when you would be out in the real world someday. She didn’t want you to look ignorant when you went off to school with white students.”
“But I was just a little kid.”
Miss June shook her head. “Still stubborn as always, I see. Well, c’mon, let me take you in to see Mrs. Conway, but don’t you go telling either of your parents that I had anything to do with this scheme of yours.”
They found Mrs. Conway perched at her walnut desk, several letters fanned in front of her. If she thought it odd that Louise wasn’t at school, her kind face gave away nothing. “Why, Louise, what a treat to see you this morning. What can I do for you?”
After Louise explained that she was looking for work, Mrs. Conway tapped her perfectly rounded fingernails on her address book for a moment as she thought. “You could try Mrs. Clark, over on Fairview Avenue. I believe she mentioned needing a girl when I saw her at a Women’s Club meeting last Tuesday. Her young daughters will keep you busy. Tell her I sent you.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“If Mrs. Clark has found a new situation, try Mrs. Mason over on Stone Street.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.” As Miss June led Louise through the kitchen to the back door, the older woman said, “Mrs. Clark could be good, but don’t even think about Mrs. Mason. She’s mean and her husband’s even worse. If Mrs. Clark don’t work out, come back here, I got more suggestions, though the pay won’t be so good. It’s tough out there.”
“Thank you, Miss June.”
“Now hold up a moment. All that running has you looking too thin.” She reached to a cutting board on the counter, cut a slice of cinnamon raisin bread, then handed it to Louise. “See you at church on Sunday.”
“You won’t say anything to my father, will you?”
“Do you plan to tell him about this tonight?” When Louise nodded, Miss June said, “Good, because I’ve got no plans to lie for you.”
Louise bobbed her chin in gratitude and closed the door behind her. Cupping the still-warm fresh bread in her hand, she slunk around the side of the house to be sure Papa wouldn’t catch a glimpse of her. She made it to the sidewalk and took off at a run to escape any notice. Only when she was a few blocks away did she stop and eat the bread.
BY LUNCHTIME, SHE had a job with Mrs. Clark tending to her two young daughters and helping the main housekeeper. Mrs. Clark, a small-waisted woman with a precisely marcel-waved coiffure, had presented Louise with a long, detailed list of her daily tasks, but her young daughter and baby seemed sweet and the house bright and clean. After work, Louise would still be able to attend track practice in the late afternoon. Louise had no illusions about the work. She had seen Mama’s exhaustion every night. The days would be long and tiring, but she would be helping her family, and her parents wouldn’t be able to object to her working once she announced she
