The morning wore on; it was almost dinner time. I heard my father enter the house, heard his feet move into the library, then all was quiet again. A short while later the dinner gong sounded, and I heard him go through the house to the dining room, then heard his voice call to my mother.
I heard her steps, heard her bedroom door open. "I am here, Mr. Maclaine," she said.
"What is the matter, madam? Is Jessamine worse? Is it the fever?"
"You must come and see your daughter now," she said. I stood up from the bed, steeling myself for the confrontation to come. I heard my father's quick steps on the stairs, my mother's feet coming toward my bedroom door, and straightened my shoulders in spite of the pain, holding my chin high.
My mother entered first, and my father followed closely, his face anxious. When he saw me standing in my shift he seemed startled, then embarrassed; he turned his back.
My mother said, "See your adored daughter, sir; she carries a bastard inside her!"
she said.
He turned back toward me, his face blank. "Madam, what do you mean?" he said loudly. "Jessie, what is your mother on about?" He stepped closer to me.
I stood by the window; the light was full upon me. His face changed to surprise.
"What has happened? Jessamine, what is the meaning of this?"
I said, "See what your wife has done!" and turned my back to him, pulling the linen off my shoulder.
I heard my father's swift intake of breath. I slowly pulled my shift back and looked at him. "I am with child, Papa," I said.
The sudden pain in his eyes shocked me; I stepped back from it. His disappointment struck me, a pain straight to my heart. My eyes filled with tears.
"Can it be so?" he said in a low voice. "Who has done this, Jessie? Who has taken advantage of you?"
"I cannot tell, Papa. I cannot." I felt the beginning of relief; my mind cleared and my thoughts came quickly.
"Why can you not?" he said.
"I am afraid!" I said, my tears flowing.
"Who is it?" my father roared, raising his hand to strike me.
I cringed away from him. "It is not a Negro!" I screamed. "Papa, please, do not strike me!"
"Who is it?" he shouted again. "By God, I will kill him!"