After the mid day meal, Mistress Anderson took Mary out to the flower garden. Victoria handed Mary a basket to hold as she cut fresh flowers for the house. She talked to Mary, not really expecting Mary to answer. Victoria told Mary that they were having a small gathering that evening. Their neighbors from the Grover farm and the Kilgour farm, were coming over. The Anderson’s eldest son, Todd and his wife Alison were visiting for a few days.
“It’s just a cryin’ shame they didn’t bring my grandsons. Todd left them with the nanny. Just a cryin’ shame, I’ll vow.” Victoria said wistfully. “I’ll swear, it’s that Alison that keeps them there.” She added. Victoria handed Mary beautiful roses, their sweet scent wafting around Mary’s head. Every now and then Mary would answer her mistress with a “Yes’m” because Mary felt funny in the one-sided conversation. At one point, Mistress Anderson stopped and looked down at Mary, her blue eyes soft.
“Mary, I declare, you are the prettiest colored child I have ever seen.” Mary flushed with pleasure.
“Thankee Missus.” Her large honey brown eyes looking up into the soft blue ones, happiness shining through. She didn’t look her mistress in the eyes very often, but when she did, Mary felt a quiet kindness in the cornflower blue eyes.
Mistress Anderson went back to cutting flowers, and went back to her one-sided conversation. Mary’s fear of white people eased a bit, she knew that the mistress wouldn’t hurt her unprovoked. Mary felt sad when she thought of Megan, the daughter that the missus lost so long ago. Mary knew how she would feel if she lost her own mother. It would be a terrible and unthinkable thing. Soon the talking stopped and her mistress began to hum under her breath, softly and sweetly. Mary liked listening to her and sometimes she would join the mistress in humming.
Mary didn’t notice the tears shimmering in Mrs. Anderson’s eyes when Mary started humming along with her. Mary didn’t know that she sounded a great deal like Megan when she hummed. There were times when Victoria wanted to take Mary into her arms and hold the child and rock her. To feel the small body in her arms, that ached for her long-lost daughter. But her husband, John, would have a fit. Men didn’t seem to understand a mother’s grief. She liked having Mary near her. The child made her feel calm and at ease. A balm on her torture soul.
If Alison would bring her grandsons over, Victoria was sure that would help as well. Alison was a stingy daughter-in-law. Oh, Alison acted as though she loved Victoria well enough, but Victoria sensed an underlying pettiness. Victoria sighed and looked around her garden. Soon, her flowers would die with the cold and she’d be stuck inside the house. She grunted to herself. She was glad for now though, that Mary was with her and she would endeavor to enjoy the sunshine and the day.
John Anderson watched his wife at the edge of the garden. Mary was told to stay near the mistress while she toiled in her flower garden over the last days of warmth. Both heads bent in their tasks, soft humming floated along the breeze. John Anderson took notice of the improved change in his wife. He noted that Mary seemed to calm his nervous wife and he was pleased. It had been difficult for Victoria when Megan had died. Victoria had been inconsolable and nothing that John did would bring her out of the depths of her depression. He had worried greatly for his wife. Theo was off to school and he knew his wife missed their son. Mary’s presence seemed to make his wife happy.
Over the years Victoria had gotten better, but John knew his wife still grieved over the loss of their daughter. There were times when Victoria floated about the house, like a restless spirit. It had been almost twenty years since the loss of Megan, but for Victoria, it was like yesterday. The house slave, Mary, appeared to ease his wife’s sadness and John was very thankful for that. John spoke with Cookie and told her not to over burden the child; he wanted her freed up for his wife’s use.
Cookie never mentioned this to Mary, but she made sure Mary didn’t work too hard nor had too many time-consuming tasks. Cookie was glad that the mistress was happy; she remembered the terrible day Megan had died. She thought the mistress would go insane with grief. Mrs. Anderson had clawed herself raw with the anguish in her heart. Victoria had been put to bed and remained there for months. It made Cookie glad that she didn’t have any children of her own. Cookie watched the master as he stood near the garden, watching his wife.
Cookie snorted at the thought, everyone watched. She shook her head. Mary made a difference and Cookie liked the precocious little girl. Mary was bright and sweet and always helpful. Mary devoured Cookie’s cooking and this pleased Cookie the most. Cookie knew Ida had been ill for sometime and usually sent bits of food along with Mary at night, wrapped in a clean dishrag. It broke her heart, she knew that Mary’s mother was dying, it was only a matter of time, if not this winter, then next. Life was cruel like that.
A week later Mary accompanied the mistress for a long walk. A couple of the older boys followed at a distance. They carried baskets for gathering flowers and wild fruit. Dark Henry carried a large basket for a mid day picnic for his mistress. At
