"I have always suspected this," she said, still in that frightful whisper. "I shall lock you in your room every night, so you may not see your lover again; and if you are with child you shall birth it and I shall drown it." Her breaths were coming fast and hard.
My breath caught in my throat on a sob, and in spite of myself, tears filled my eyes.
My head still rang from the slap she had administered. I picked up the embroidery again.
My mother threw the night dress at me.
"Go to the wash house and wash it yourself," she said. "If you wish to lie with the Negroes, you may work with them also."
I took the linen and folded it. "Yes, Mama," I whispered. I rose to my feet and went through the dining room and out to the kitchen, then, past the staring eyes of the Negroes, I walked down the path to the washhouse.
I could hear the women laughing and chattering as I approached. The washhouse was near the edge of the swamp, an open place covered by a roof with an opening for the smoke of the fire to escape. A cauldron of water hung on a rung over the fire; tubs of water, some clear, some clouded with soap, held lumps of linen which the women lifted on sticks and rubbed between their rough hands. As I drew near one of the slaves noticed me; she spoke and they all looked toward me, and grew quiet.
If I had been alone, I wouldn't have minded the washing; the steamy air smelled of soap and starch and lavender, and the warmth was comforting. But the stares of the Negroes unnerved me. I didn't belong here; this was their workplace and they resented my intrusion. I walked forward, and they moved out of my way. I found a tub which had been recently filled and found a lump of soap, and knelt down. I could feel their stares as I rubbed the linen vigorously, tears streaming down my cheeks, the pain of Robbie's rejection and my mother's blow wracking my soul.
How would I live? What would I do? If Robbie would not have me, I must die. I would drown myself in the swamp. I could not live with my mother's hatred much longer.
One of the women moved to take the linen from me, as if she would have finished washing it for me; I swore at her through my tears and she stepped back. I rubbed more fiercely than ever, the skin on my knuckles growing raw. How could Robbie have spurned me, after taking me? Why had he done so? I could not understand it. I felt as though I were ten years old again and had been left behind as he and Kevin and Sean went off on some escapade without me.