“These were important to Gallo two months ago, Honoree.”
“Come on, Trudy. You love messing up a white man’s plans. That’s what you do. I’m sure you can find some way. If you want to help Ezekiel.”
Trudy twisted her mouth to one side. “I see where you headed.” She wiped a finger over her upper lip, careful not to smear her lipstick. “There is one time when a white man will listen to a colored girl and believe everything she has to say.” Trudy stuffed the envelope in her box purse. “I don’t know if I can get this done, but I’d love to see Gallo dead in the street. My family lost a bunch of money to him and Ezekiel’s daddy when they ran that insurance scam. A lot of people in Bronzeville did, and that includes Houdini.”
“I know about what happened with Ezekiel and his father. Or some of it.”
“Ezekiel isn’t his father’s son and has been trying to make up for his daddy since he got back in town.”
“I realize that now,” Honoree said. “But why do you care so much about Ezekiel?”
“He is family, not by blood—but by what we’ve survived. There ain’t nothing between us but a mutual hatred of Tony Gallo and men like Archie Graves.” Trudy gulped her coffee and took another bite of pineapple. “Tell Ezekiel I stopped by, won’t you?”
“I will.”
Trudy slipped her mink back on, pulled on her gloves, and walked toward the front door. “Nice seeing you, too, Bessie. Sorry we didn’t get to bleach your hair. Maybe next time.”
* * *
It was midnight. Everyone was sitting at the kitchen table eating the supper Jeremiah had prepared, and Ezekiel was telling them about the telegram from his mother in New York City. She agreed to meet Honoree and Bessie at the train station and assured him there would be a safe place for them to stay.
There were no balloons, streamers, or mistletoe to mark the beginning of 1926. Honoree was disappointed. She’d dreamed of her first trip to New York City and it included a cheering crowd of theatergoers shouting her name. But it was a dream. Although sneaking into New York City alive was better than never getting there at all, she supposed.
“Don’t worry, Honoree,” Ezekiel said. “You’ll be on the train in a few hours, and this will be behind you.”
“Trudy stopped by earlier today.” This was her first chance to tell him.
He lowered his fork, setting it on his plate. “What did she want?”
“She wanted to let you know that Archie has put his goons on you. He’s telling them you killed Dewey.” The rest of her conversation with Trudy, the part about the betting slips, Ezekiel wouldn’t like, and she kept to herself.
Ezekiel glanced at Jeremiah. “That’s what we planned. Remember. Pretending I killed him so that Gallo would get off Dewey’s ass and Archie could keep making money.”
An hour after supper, Ezekiel and Jeremiah left, promising to return shortly, but they had to take care of something. Honoree didn’t want to know what they had to do or where they had to go. It was just something more to worry about.
“I’m going up, Bessie. It’s nearly three o’clock in the morning. Might as well get a few hours’ sleep. We won’t get much rest on the train.”
Honoree chose to have a last hot bath before climbing into bed. She filled the tub, scrubbing her body with the fragrant white soap in the bin. Once clean, she applied talc powder and perfumed toilet water, removed the hair net keeping her short bob in place.
She put on the cotton chemise and returned to Ezekiel’s boyhood bedroom. Waiting in the room, seated in the rocking chair, was Ezekiel.
“You’re back? I’m glad. I was worried.”
“You were worried about me?”
“Absolutely. Positively.”
“I wanted to wish you a happy birthday.”
“You remembered?”
“I’m a few hours late, but yes, I remembered, Honoree.” There was a breathlessness in his voice. As if speaking her name sent a shudder down his legs. Or were those her legs shaking?
His gaze moved over her body like a gentle stream in spring.
The waters rushed into her, warming her bones, her thighs, and her shoulders. She slipped out of her chemise. He rose swiftly from the rocking chair and placed a hand on her shoulder, preventing her from exposing her bubs.
“Are you sure?” His voice was hoarse.
