carriage rolled down the street pulled by a beautiful horse drenched with sweat. She fought to free herself from the burden threatening to choke her. This wasn’t like her.
“You want to tell me what’s really going on?” May pressed. “Are things bad at the factory?”
“No,” Abby said quickly. “The factory is doing well. We’ve hired more people to handle all the clothing orders coming in, and the tension between the workers seems to be lessening every day.” She felt a surge of satisfaction as she thought about their black and white employees managing to work together. There would always be issues, but the lure of a well-paying job was forcing both races to work through them.
“That’s good,” May said simply.
Abby knew May was waiting for her answer. The two women had become friends in the year since Abby had married Thomas Cromwell. “I knew things would be difficult,” she said slowly, “but I was naïve enough to think they would get better more quickly once the war ended.” She sighed. “In some ways they seem to have gotten worse.”
“And you didn’t have to see the trouble or hear about it every single day when you were living in Philadelphia,” May observed astutely.
“That’s true,” Abby admitted. “I guess I lived more of a sheltered life in Philadelphia than I knew. I was committed to making a difference, but my home seemed far away from all the trouble.” Her words came slowly as she faced what she was feeling. “I guess I always felt like I had a safe haven.”
“And you don’t feel that here?” May asked. “Somebody here been botherin’ you, Miss Abby?”
“No, of course not,” Abby said quickly, trying to put her feelings into words. She realized as soon as she spoke, however, that she didn’t truly feel safe. She suspected trouble could find her and Thomas at any moment, no matter where they were. Memories of Jeremy’s beating still haunted her. She tried to bring sense to her rampaging feelings. “Philadelphia was more of a melting pot, I suppose.”
“I feel like I be meltin’ right now,” May replied, her eyes dancing with fun in spite of the heat.
Abby chuckled but was pulled back into her thoughts quickly. “How do your people stand it?” she demanded. “Things have gotten worse since they burned the church in April. I know houses have been burnt down in the black quarters. People have been beaten.” Restless, she stood up and gazed out over the streets. “I don’t see it getting any better,” she said helplessly, not sure if she was feeling more anger or sadness.
May patted the seat next to her. “Gettin’ all hot and bothered ain’t what you need on a day like this,” she said matter-of-factly.
Abby whirled around and stared at her, too upset to sit back down. “How can you be so calm?”
“You think this trouble be comin’ after you,” May observed quietly.
Abby wished she could deny it. “I’m scared every day,” she admitted, “but I’m just as scared for you and Miles. For Thomas and Jeremy. For Spencer and Marcus.” Her heart beat wildly as she clutched at the porch column. “For Opal and Eddie. For all the kids…” Her voice slowed as she struggled to breathe. Her eyes widened as the humid heat threatened to drown her.
Alarmed, May stood up and reached for her arm. “This isn’t like you, Miss Abby. Where does all this be comin’ from?” She reached down and picked up a magazine from the table and began to fan her rapidly. “Now you just stop this nonsense and breathe easy.” Her voice was sharp with worry.
Abby fought to slow her breathing. She knew she was letting fear consume her. Life had been so peaceful when they had been on the plantation just a month earlier. She hadn’t been ready to leave when they had to bring Carrie and the rest back to the city to catch the train to Philadelphia. Thomas had offered for them to return to the country, but she had insisted they stay because she knew he believed
“You want to tell me what’s really going on?” May pressed. “Are things bad at the factory?”
“No,” Abby said quickly. “The factory is doing well. We’ve hired more people to handle all the clothing orders coming in, and the tension between the workers seems to be lessening every day.” She felt a surge of satisfaction as she thought about their black and white employees managing to work together. There would always be issues, but the lure of a well-paying job was forcing both races to work through them.
“That’s good,” May said simply.
Abby knew May was waiting for her answer. The two women had become friends in the year since Abby had married Thomas Cromwell. “I knew things would be difficult,” she said slowly, “but I was naïve enough to think they would get better more quickly once the war ended.” She sighed. “In some ways they seem to have gotten worse.”
“And you didn’t have to see the trouble or hear about it every single day when you were living in Philadelphia,” May observed astutely.
“That’s true,” Abby admitted. “I guess I lived more of a sheltered life in Philadelphia than I knew. I was committed to making a difference, but my home seemed far away from all the trouble.” Her words came slowly as she faced what she was feeling. “I guess I always felt like I had a safe haven.”
“And you don’t feel that here?” May asked. “Somebody here been botherin’ you, Miss Abby?”
“No, of course not,” Abby said quickly, trying to put her feelings into words. She realized as soon as she spoke, however, that she didn’t truly feel safe. She suspected trouble could find her and Thomas at any moment, no matter where they were. Memories of Jeremy’s beating still haunted her. She tried to bring sense to her rampaging feelings. “Philadelphia was more of a melting pot, I suppose.”
“I feel like I be meltin’ right now,” May replied, her eyes dancing with fun in spite of the heat.
Abby chuckled but was pulled back into her thoughts quickly. “How do your people stand it?” she demanded. “Things have gotten worse since they burned the church in April. I know houses have been burnt down in the black quarters. People have been beaten.” Restless, she stood up and gazed out over the streets. “I don’t see it getting any better,” she said helplessly, not sure if she was feeling more anger or sadness.
May patted the seat next to her. “Gettin’ all hot and bothered ain’t what you need on a day like this,” she said matter-of-factly.
Abby whirled around and stared at her, too upset to sit back down. “How can you be so calm?”
“You think this trouble be comin’ after you,” May observed quietly.
Abby wished she could deny it. “I’m scared every day,” she admitted, “but I’m just as scared for you and Miles. For Thomas and Jeremy. For Spencer and Marcus.” Her heart beat wildly as she clutched at the porch column. “For Opal and Eddie. For all the kids…” Her voice slowed as she struggled to breathe. Her eyes widened as the humid heat threatened to drown her.
Alarmed, May stood up and reached for her arm. “This isn’t like you, Miss Abby. Where does all this be comin’ from?” She reached down and picked up a magazine from the table and began to fan her rapidly. “Now you just stop this nonsense and breathe easy.” Her voice was sharp with worry.
Abby fought to slow her breathing. She knew she was letting fear consume her. Life had been so peaceful when they had been on the plantation just a month earlier. She hadn’t been ready to leave when they had to bring Carrie and the rest back to the city to catch the train to Philadelphia. Thomas had offered for them to return to the country, but she had insisted they stay because she knew he believed
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