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No histrionics, no cussing, no crying. Just a
calmly spoken statement. They both knew this
would not be the end of it, but the words didn t
fail to chill Beau to his very soul. It was a
challenge he was going to have to meet. Georgie
would not settle this time, and she would not wait
until Beau could figure out a perfect plan. If he
wanted to be a part of her life, of their son s life, he
was going to have to do it right.
Chapter Eleven
When are you gonna forgive that boy?
Georgie shook her head as she resumed
refolding the laundry. It was not a task she had to
do. The laundry service they used did a good
enough job. However, whenever Beau was here
visiting their son, she had to keep her hands busy
and stay well away. There simply weren t enough
chores around the sprawling house located in
Faubourg Marigny, not far from the Quarter. The
neighborhood was on the decline, not many
people had money for the upkeep of houses
originally built for the colored mistresses of rich
white Creoles and Anglophones who wanted to
pretend they were descendants of the original
Franco-Spanish Creoles.
It was a bitter irony that Branford had
settled his son s whore here, Georgie snorted. Not
that she blamed him. Had she lived in East New
Orleans or the scarcely populated 9th Ward, there
would be questions as soon as her son was born.
Uncomfortable questions and even more
uncomfortable looks. There may well be plenty of
interesting combinations in the people of the Big
Easy, but the social mores remained the same.
He made his bed, was the only answer
she had for Ida.
Of all the people in the world, she had
thought Ida would understand her feelings. She
had seen the sadness in the other woman s eyes
every time Branford breezed in and out of town.
She saw the tightening of Ida s hands whenever
Branford packed his bags to return to his wife and
his respectable life. How could she try to push
Georgie into such a life? At least Ida had the thin
veneer of respectability. She was married.
If Beau thought for a second she was
going to marry one of his illegitimate brothers, he
had another damn thing coming. There was no
way she could live Ida s life. The degradation
would be galling.
Now that slick Creole is gone, you
need to think about Little Beau, Ida huffed as she
snapped peas in a large pot. The boy needs a
father.
Like Branford was a father to your
children? Georgie snapped before she thought
the better of it.
the better of it.
As soon as the words flew out of her
mouth, Georgie was immediately shamed. That
wasn t fair. Ida hadn t had many choices in life. In
his way, Branford had provided for her children.
They had far, far more than any other colored
children in Blakely could ever claim. Each had
moved as far away from Blakely as they could as
fast as they could, leaving their mother to her lot
in life. They had taken their daddy s money and
ran, but at least they could run.
Ida did not respond. Her hands stilled
over the pot as she struggled to compose her face.
She didn t shed a tear, but Georgie could tell her
words had been like a body shot straight to the
gut.
It s easy to cast stones, Georgina, Ida s
voice was a broken whisper, a mixture of sadness
and anger lacing each carefully pronounced word.
And it s easy to make that boy suffer. What is
hard is raising that little boy of yours on your
own, without somebody buying you a house to
raise him in, or giving you the money to feed
him. Ida shook her head as she placed the pot on
the kitchen table. You know, that boy loves you.
Georgie opened her mouth to protest, to
tell Ida just what that boy s love had done to
her, but Ida held up her hand.
I know he done you wrong, the older
woman told her. There ain t no doubt about that.
But I know that life ain t easy for any of us. You
could sell yourself for a wedding ring and the
approval of sour people who ain t never done a
damn thing for you. You could live the rest of
your life bitter, never again knowing the touch of a
lover. Ida sighed as she rose from the chair, every
one of her years in every step she took toward the
door. She turned and looked sadly as Georgie.
Girl, I know your life hasn t been easy. I know he
was wrong. But give him a chance to make it right.
He ain t his daddy. He aint-
Whatever Ida was going to say was
abruptly halted as the older woman grasped at her
chest.
Georgie dropped the clothes in her
hands, rushing to the older woman to catch her
just as she crumbled.
Beau! Beau, come quick!
Beau! Beau, come quick!
Georgie ripped the top of Ida s dress
open, trying to will the older woman to breathe.
Even so, she could see Ida struggling, her mouth
opening and closing, grunting in an attempt to say
something.
Oh, Lord, Ida I am so sorry. Georgie s
tears dropped onto the face of the jerking woman
in her arms faster than she could wipe them away.
She didn t know what to do. Had her harsh words
done this? Ida, please, please&
Ida managed to grab Georgie s dress
near her chest, dragging her down closer with
surprising strength. Forgive him, Georgie.
Promise me.
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