That also was not an option for Justine, because she didn’t want to take the risk that news would get back to Precious that she had another child—a son Justine refused to give up. She’d become a modern-day Rebekah, who’d given birth to fraternal twins Esau and Jacob.
Justine vowed that she would do everything in her power for her son to get what he deserved, even if it meant destroying his brother. Jacob had stolen firstborn Esau’s birthright, and history would repeat itself when Kenneth Russell would bring down and destroy Dennis Boone’s son sometime in the future.
“I have to go, because I want to be back home to pick up my kids from Ellis’s sister. It’s not often that she’ll volunteer to watch them, because she has four of her own and another one on the way.”
Pamela’s voice broke into Justine’s musings, and she turned to smile at her friend. “Thank you for coming.”
“Anytime, Justine. I don’t know if I can come to see you again before you’re discharged, but you know where to find me.”
Justine nodded, then closed her eyes. A wave of exhaustion swept over her, much like the undertow of the ocean that had nearly swept her farther away from the shore the onetime she’d gone to Orchard Beach with her family. She’d initially panicked, then allowed herself to relax before a wave came and pushed her to safety.
She didn’t feel as physically tired as she was mentally drained. She believed her grandmother inviting her to come to Mount Vernon to live was a reprieve from the upheaval she’d experienced when living with her mother. However, behind the doors of the magnificent white Colonial, Justine had found it to be a house of horrors.
Dennis Boone held court for his friends and business associates like a king holding sway over his subjects, while his wife and mother-in-law were the reincarnations of a fairy tale’s evil stepmothers. The two women seemingly had sold their souls to give Dennis Boone what he coveted most—a son and heir.
All she had wished and planned for had been thwarted when she’d been blackmailed into sleeping with another woman’s husband. It was as if her life had become a repeat of her mother’s. Not only was she unmarried, but she’d bore a married man’s child.
Justine still didn’t understand how they had come up with a marriage license for her or a death certificate for her so-called husband, but then, people with money could bribe folks to do their bidding. Politicians and gangsters did it every day. It was said that Al Capone had judges and high-ranking police officials on his payroll, and there was no doubt Precious and Mrs. Crawford had used their money and influence to get what they wanted.
She was now eighteen, a high school graduate, and the mother of an infant son. Justine knew she couldn’t afford to wallow in self-pity. She had a child to take care of. The social worker had given her the confidence she needed to begin to rebuild her life and eventually her future. She would raise her sonandbecome a schoolteacher.
“I can’t believe you’re moving.”
Justine nodded to Pamela as she cradled Kenny to her chest. It had taken three weeks for a caseworker to find an apartment for her on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, less than half a block from Central Park West. It had five rooms on the second floor of a five-story walkup. And this time her name was on the lease.
“I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you would be upset. My grandmother decided to rent a two-family house so I can have my own apartment.”
“You’re right about me being upset,” Pamela said at the same time she forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I suppose this is it now that you’re moving so far away.”
Justine nodded again. “Yeah. Poughkeepsie isn’t a subway or bus ride away.”
“You will write to me, won’t you?” Pamela asked.
“I will as soon as I’m settled.” Justine asked herself when was she going to stop lying. It had come as easily as breathing. “I left the keys to the apartment on the windowsill in the kitchen. I have to go now, because the movers have finished loading their van, and I need to hail a taxi to take me to Grand Central to catch the train. The movers are scheduled to deliver my furniture early tomorrow morning.” Justine wanted it to be the last lie she told her friend; the movers were instructed to deliver the furniture to her new apartment, and she wanted to get there before they arrived.
“Don’t forget to stay in touch,” Pamela reminded her.
“I will.”
Those were the last two words Justine told Pamela before she walked to the corner and raised her hand to hail a taxi. When one stopped, she got in and gave the driver her new address.
She glanced down at the sleeping infant in her arms and smiled. Kenny was a good baby who only cried when he washungry or needed to be changed. Now that she was receiving public assistance, Justine planned to stay home with her son until he was ready to attend school. Then, she would find a part-time position to earn enough to supplement her welfare check. Her caseworker had cautioned her that she had to report any money she earned from employment, because then her bimonthly check would have to be adjusted.
Justine resented the restrictions she’d had to adhere to, yet she was willing to follow the rules, because taxpayers were supporting her and her dependent child. She kept up her secretarial skills by taking dictation when listening to radio news, then transcribing them on the typewriter. She wanted to be ready whenever the time came when she would be interviewed and tested for an office position.
The taxi arrived a half hour before the movers, and it took quick work for the three men to unload the van and carry everything up two flights of stairs. Justine sat on a kitchen chair while one man opened boxes with a crib and baby carriage and quickly assembled them. He claimed it was the least he could do for the widow of a deceased soldier. The movers positioned every piece of furniture in the places she indicated to them, and when she opened her handbag to give each man a tip, they vehemently refused to take money from a woman with an infant child.
She placed a blanket-wrapped Kenny on the floor in one of the smaller bedrooms and opened a box filled with baby items. Justine covered the crib mattress with a sheet, then put her son in the crib. She smiled when he stared up at her with large brown eyes that were so much like her own. She didn’t know what Precious’s son looked like, but there was no doubt Kenny had taken after his birth mother.
Justine fed and changed the baby, and once he’d fallen asleep, she concentrated on unpacking. It was late afternoon when she opened a can of split pea soup, heated it in a saucepan, then ate it slowly to avoid burning her mouth.
After she was discharged from the hospital, she had methodically cooked and used most of the perishable food items, knowing they wouldn’t survive unrefrigerated because of the summer heat. She then packed canned and non-perishables like rice, flour, and sugar in tins to transport to her new kitchen.
Justine knew she had to go to the grocery store to buy eggs, butter, milk, and bread. She wasn’t as concerned with Kenny’s formula because she mixed evaporated milk with water and then added a small amount of cane syrup. She’d grown up listening to Black mothers talk about their babies unable to tolerate cow’s milk because it gave them colic. So far, so good when it came to her son’s formula made with canned milk. Justine knew she had enough canned foods on hand to sustain her for several days before she had to go out to shop. There was a small grocery store on the same block as her apartment building and a supermarket on the avenue two blocks away. The apartment the caseworker had selected for her was within walking distance for everything she’d need to sustain her. And having Central Park practically outside her front door made life as she would come to know it complete.
Her new apartment was perfect. It had a large kitchen to the right of the entryway, and a living room that looked out on the street, and Justine was looking forward to people-watching. That was something she couldn’t do in her old apartment, because it was at the rear of the building. It had also a bathroom and three bedrooms.
She decided to take a nap while the baby was sleeping; it was going to take a while before she recovered fully from giving birth. Justine made up her bed, kicked off her shoes, and lay across the mattress. She let out an audible sigh. It would be the first time in a long while that she would be able to relax completely without the fear someone would see through the web of lies that now governed her life.
