Page 111 of Meet Me on Greenwood

Houston went still. So still, I wouldn’t have known he was breathing unless I’d felt his chest rising and falling. He held his mouth in a straight line, assessing my words. Then I smiled and he smiled back.

"You delivered that with such a straight face, Gema," he said. "I didn’t know what to think. I was worried for a second."

"I could tell," I said, disentangling myself from him, even though I didn’t want to. "There is something, but I’m not ready to say it just yet."

Houston gave me a measured look before standing. He gripped my chin, so I’d look at him. Sometimes I felt like his eyes could see right through me. "You can tell me anything, Gema. It won’t change the way I see you. I hope you know that."

"I do."

I turned to the spring, admiring the crystal blue water. Light shimmered across it and ripples broke the surface. The beauty of the water on his property was undeniable, though I had spent years fearing it. But standing with Houston behind me, and my mother’s voice somewhere just beneath the surface of my consciousness, I felt something loosen inside me.

I reached for the buttons of my blouse and slowly began to unfasten them.

Houston sucked in his breath. "Wh—what are you doing?"

I slipped off my blouse and bent down to remove my boots. I gave him a grin and slowly removed his as well. Houston’s eyes were fixed on me, like he could never get enough. If I was being honest, I had the same problem.

"Gema?" he asked again, looking around.

Finally, I removed my skirt and walked towards the water in nothing but my undergarments. "I’m going for a swim," I said, winking at him over my shoulder.

His jaw fell open with questions.

I turned toward the spring before I could change my mind and dipped my toe in. The water was colder than it looked. As soon as my feet were fully submerged, fear began to work its way up my body, and I could hear my mother’s words—Remember this. Remember me—as she sang to make sure I didn’t fall into the water. I knew I was always safe with her, and I jumped in headfirst.

The jolt of cold water took my breath away, and panic began to sink in, but instead of running from it, I did something I never thought I could do. I ran toward it. Swimming clumsily into the center of the spring, I made it to a spot where my feet couldn’t touch the ground and turned to float on my back, as I’d done so many times with my mother. I swore I heard her voice. There’s my daughter. I knew you had it in you.

Tears emerged from my eyes as I tried to recall her face. It had been so long since I’d looked at a picture and allowed myself to miss her.

I don’t know how long I’d stayed like that, with my arms outstretched, but Houston scooped me up without warning. He’d managed to take off his shirt revealing his toned body. He watched me with mild concern. "You’ve ruined your hair. Rita is going to kill you," he said holding me against him.

"Let me go before I hurt you," I said finally.

"Never," he said, and just like that, the exterior I’d carefully constructed fell to pieces.

My tears were ever flowing as he held me against him, patting my back, offering the comfort I’d needed as a child. The same comfort I needed even more now.

"I’ve got you," he whispered.

Rita was furious with the state of my hair and went to work immediately to straighten it with her private set of marcels that must have cost thousands of dollars. She had invited several ladies over to get dressed for the ball. We had someone tending to our nails and giving us facials and massages. It was something I’d normally appreciate, but today it gave me too much time to think. I’d left letters for Paul and Lettie to find in the breadbox, hoping they wouldn’t come across them too early. I put a note for Houston in his nightstand. I’d never seen him rifle through it before, so I was sure it would take him a couple of days to think to look there.

Houston’s letter was the most detailed. I’d left instructions of when to leave before next spring to avoid the riots. I encouraged him to get as many people as he could out now without risking himself. I explained I was from the future and how terrible it was that I needed to leave. I gave a long list of reasons and reiterated that I didn’t want to cause him any more harm.

"Are you listening, Gema?"

That brought me out of my reverie. "I missed it."

"We were taking bets on who will be the first to dance with a white man. I’m placing my bet on you," Rita said with a wink.

"No, it’ll definitely be me," Edith called from the corner, curling iron mid-roll. The room smelled of coconut oil and slightly burned hair as the girls overdid it on the hairspray.

"Why are we dancing with White men again?" asked Sally, who I’d only been recently introduced to. She was home from Spelman, and I found her experiences to be fascinating.

Edith shrugged. "I don’t know. I guess I’m curious. Shouldn’t we be?"

Sally put her hand on her hip. "In fact, why do we want white people in our spaces, anyway? They will see what we have and want it for themselves."

"Maybe it will help them see that we are the same," Edith said.