Black and Blue Ivy

Birthday Surprise

My mind fizzled with giddiness and confusion. My body trembled. Luckily, Mr. Robinson had a court date that ran late that day, so dinner was delayed. When I arrived at the dining room, Mrs. Roche was just setting the table. She glared at me when I asked if she needed any help. Deciding to ignore her nasty attitude, I went to the kitchen humming a happy tune to ask Cook the same thing. She grunted and pointed to the bread basket and a steaming bowl of potatoes au gratin, which I trolleyed back to the dining room. Bentley walked toward me from the opposite end of the hall with Gardenia holding his arm. It was all I could do not to drop the dishes on the carpet. Although I could tell he was staring right at me (I could feel his eyes burning like laser beams), I pretended I didn't notice and kept my focus on Gardenia instead. She had roused herself from her bedroom enough to dress for dinner. She wore a dark red velvet skirt and a soft cream-colored sweater accented with a triple string of what I imagined were genuine pearls.

Bentley nodded toward me as the three of us approached the door together. He stopped to hold it open for us.

"Hello, Ivy," Gardenia said tightly as she waited for Bentley to hold her chair for her, which he did with precision. Again, I tried not to look at him. Instead, I feigned intense interest in the floral patterned china plate at my place setting.

As Mrs. Roche leaned over the table to set down a bowl of green beans, Gardenia tugged on her apron.

"Yes, ma'am?" responded Mrs. Roche wearily.

"Please instruct Miss Tyler to bring the children down, and check on the baby. She was sleeping when I left my room."

"Of course, ma'am," huffed Mrs. Roche. Even though she was nasty, I felt sorry for Mrs. Roche. Did she ever get a chance to sit down and enjoy her meal? I imagined she scarfed down food in the kitchen with Cook between duties. It was a wonder with a house as big as this with as many children as they had that there wasn't a full-time staff. St. Vincent's at least had all of us freshie slaves to keep it spick-and-span. Perhaps I was feeling charitable toward Mrs. Roche because at the moment I felt so happy. My heart was practically leaping out of my throat with joy, and when the children rushed in, free from their home-school prison, they all attacked me with an enormous group hug.

I couldn't help laughing at their boundless energy, and their need to give and receive love, something lacking from their young lives. When I finally came up for a breath, Gardenia was clapping her hands together and telling the children to take their seats. Bentley, now seated across from me, gazed at me with love in his eyes. I quickly shifted my eyes at Gardenia, whose placid expression was betrayed by a tiny twitching in the corners of her mouth. Morningstar told me to watch out for women, that they always see things men miss, especially in matters of the heart. They see things because they feel things so deeply. At that moment, I could see and feel how much Gardenia hated me. Yes, felt it like a cold chill starting at my scalp and traveling out my toes. That sensation would have bothered me if it wasn't boosted by the waves of love coming from Bentley. I almost gasped when I felt his toe tap mine beneath the table. I hadn't imagined our kiss, his warm hands on my flesh. It had really happened. And the swell of love I was feeling now, he was feeling too.

The door swung open, and Mr. Robinson entered, back stooped in his gray three-piece suit, a rolled-up newspaper in this hand.

"Daddy!" Aileen jumped from her chair to hug him.

He shooed her away with the newspaper as if she were a dog. Her chin trembled with hurt as she tried to fight the tears welling up in her big brown eyes.

"Hey, Aileen," I whispered. "Why don't you tell me about your day?"

The child moved toward me and nestled under my arm.