Page 41 of Meet Me on Greenwood

"You are not at all what I expected."

"That," I replied calmly, "is an understatement."

17

Gema

Negroes are Progressing

Seeing Greenwood was like being on the set of a historical film. Immaculate roads ran past expensive-looking homes and small shops as Tulsa slowly shifted from all-white spaces to a thriving all-Black neighborhood. Men dressed in three-piece suits and collared shirts with flat caps and bowlers, while the women wore tailored shirtwaist blouses, or day dresses with high necklines, wide-brimmed hats, and parasols. Some had pressed or permed hair, though many rocked pompadours and finger waves.

People moved leisurely through the streets, unapologetically wealthy. I’d walked through these same areas, and I’d never felt this way—like we were all collectively excellent and unashamed by it. I turned my gaze to the car, unable to take it all in, especially knowing what was coming.

Lettie had given me an extra-long hug before we’d left, and promised we would see each other at church on Sundays. I told her I didn’t go to church, and she’d told me that I would if C.J.’s wife had anything to say about it.

"It is kind of Rita and C.J. to take me in. Are you sure I won’t be too much?"

"It was his wife, Camille’s, idea. It’ll be more acceptable if you stay with them."

"And you? Is this the end of our acquaintance?"

He put the car in park and turned to me. "I’m certain we will see each other again, especially once you find your folks. Plus, I am still waiting for that copper you requested to come in."

I toyed with the handkerchief in my lap as I looked around the street that had brought me to 1920 Greenwood just a week ago

"What if I don’t want to leave?" I asked.

"Gema," he said, and I turned to meet his gaze. His blue eyes caught the light and made me feel as if I was wading through an ocean. "This is for the best. We had a close call yesterday. But—if you should want to see me, I volunteer my time at Frissel Hospital on Tuesdays and every other Friday." He paused. "Perhaps you would want to give your time? I could put in a word with Dr. Brown."

"No, that won’t be necessary. I may not be here long enough to follow through on a commitment."

"Well, let me know if you change your mind," he said as he opened my door.

I took his hand, fixing my eyes on the pristine shops that lined both sides of the streets. Two little girls in pigtails skipped by us hand in hand, pecan ice cream in wafer cones dripping onto the hot pavement. As we walked, I noted the looks people gave Houston and me. It was more than curiosity; it was apprehension. He must have felt it too, because his shoulders didn’t relax until we caught sight of Rita and her parents. Rita waved her gloved hand and pulled me into a quick embrace.

"I am so delighted you will be staying with us! We are going to have so much fun."

"It is very kind of you to take me in."

I extended my hand to Camille, but she waved it away in favor of a hug. "If you stay with us, you are family," she said with a smile. She wore a simple blue dress and bright red lipstick that somehow escaped smudging her perfectly white teeth. "Do you have any belongings?"

Houston pulled a bag from his car and handed it to C.J. "It’s not much. She didn’t come with anything."

"That’s alright!" Rita exclaimed. "Because we are going shopping."

Houston went to take out his wallet, and Camille stopped him.

"What are you doing?" she asked. "I better not see a wallet from you, Dr. Whitaker."

"I thought I’d help with the expense."

She patted his shoulder. "We are doing quite well at the paper. Did you hear we’ve expanded all the way to Wichita and Kansas City?"

"It’ll be in Dallas before long," C.J. said with pride in his voice.

"I should like to read it," I said. "I’ve only seen one paper so far."

"The paper is delivered to us every morning," he said. "I’d love to get your thoughts."