"That might be true," Mammy said, her indication rising like mercury in a thermometer, "however. I am not in the habit of having strangers come to my home to make demands on us just because we're in a temporary crisis."
"Temporary," Charlotte said, smiling and shaking her head. "Why delude yourself. Mrs. Wallace? Unless you find a daddy for Rose here, you'll always be in a monetary crisis. You have no work skills, no significant record of employment, and I don't believe you are the type who wants to do menial labor. You're still an attractive and relatively young woman, as I am. You shouldn't be burdened with the responsibility of providing the basic necessities of life for yourself and your daughter. You have a lot of good living to do, beautiful things to enjoy. Just as I do."
Mammy started to speak. but stopped and looked at me. I shook my head again.
Mammy shook hers and started to laugh.
"Really. Mrs. Curtis. I do feel sorry for you, but why should we even entertain the idea of moving in with you to help you care for a disabled child? I have no experience with that sort of thing, either, and Rose certainly doesn't. I must say. Mrs. Curtis, your searching for us and coming here to make such a request makes no sense to me and..."
"It will." Charlotte said confidently.
"Really? Why?"
"Evan is your husband's child," she replied coolly.
The words seemed to bounce off me, but Mommy looked as if all the air had gone out of her lungs. She turned as white as rice.
"What did you say?"
"I said. Evan is your husband's child, your daughter's half-brother," she added, looking at me.
Mommy started to shake her head. Charlotte opened her pocketbook and took out two envelopes.
"This first one contains a letter your husband wrote to my poor sister, making pathetic excuses for himself and his behavior with her and offering to pay for her to have an abortion. That offer came too late, not that Angelica would have agreed to do it. She was a helpless romantic. You'll reconize his handwriting and his signature, I'm sure.
"This second letter also contains a check, an even more pathetic attempt to buy off his guilt. I suppose. It's for a thousand dollars."
The bonus, I thought as she handed both envelopes to Mommy. She took them, but she looked like she didn't have the strength to hold them. I watched her take out the letter from the first one and read it. She put it down and looked at the second and at the check.
"Well?"
Mommy's eyes looked frozen over.
"Mommy?" I said. She handed me the letters and the check and I read it all quickly, my heart feeling as if it had stopped altogether and evaporated. My chest felt that empty, that hollow.
"I don't know what to say. Mrs. Curtis. You can see that this is all a very big surprise to me," Mammy managed.
"Well, I would hope so. I don't know how any woman could live with a man knowing he had seduced a young, impressionable woman, made her prenant, and then deserted her, especially after she gave birth to an imperfect child, his child, who needs such special care.
"In the early years, I paid for all the nursing and the rehabilitation and the tutors. Angelica lived for the longest time under the illusion that your husband would eventually come to her assistance and to the aid of his own child. He had her believing they would live happily ever after,
"It broke her heart to see how he avoided her as much as possible, sometimes never contacting her at all for months and months. The foolish girl actually prevented herself from finding new and substantial relationships with other men, more responsible and decent men, because your husband kept her on the edge of her chair with his 'very soon now' sort of lies.
"Well, she's gone and there's just the two of us, the poor child and myself, and frankly, I am not ready to live like some nun. Sacrificing all of the finer things in life. As you can see. I am still young enough to enjoy the fruits of my husband's fortune.
"Now that you are destitute, it makes absolute sense for you to come to my home and help me care for Evan. I have a sizable fortune, a large old plantation house just outside of Atlanta. I have servants, of course, but the boy needs more than a maid and an occasional nurse's visit. He needs family."
"Family?" Mommy asked, a smile of incredulity on her face.
"Well, other than myself, some cousins on my side, and your husband's relatives, your daughter is the only immediate family he has.
"Frankly, Mrs. Wallace, I do believe you have some responsibility here."
"I do?"
"Your husband bears the guilt. If your husband runs up a monetary debt, you are still responsible for it as well, aren't you? His death doesn't forgive all that. Certainly a child is at least as valuable and as important as some money."
Mommy's mouth opened and closed. She shook her head.