Page 78 of Meet Me on Greenwood

"Sarah."

"I know." She looked down at her hands briefly then back to me. "I know that tone, Houston."

The porch light fell between us as I worked up to what I needed to say. That was the thing about Sarah—she had never once made me earn her time, which was not the same as love. I understood that now in a way I hadn't before. Standing in the rain under ivy with a woman I had no business wanting, I had understood the difference for the first time.

"Come sit with me," I said.

She studied me for a long moment, the warm smell of supper drifting out from behind her. Then she stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut. We sat on the front swing bench as we used to do every Sunday.

"I’m not certain how to begin," I said.

She put her hand on mine. "You just need more time, that is all. You need to be a man, I get it. Go do that, but there is no reason to throw everything away."

"We’ve been drifting apart for months."

"Only ever since that—" she paused. "That woman entered your life. You’ve been different. What is it about her?" Her teeth were clenched now, her eyebrows narrowed as if this were a battle she was determined to win.

"This is about me."

"Lots of men like Negro women. Go do what you need to get it out of your system, but Houston, you cannot be with her."

"I’m not, I mean, that is not what this is about. I moved into this engagement with you too fast. I thought I was ready."

"And now you are not."

"Do you really think we’d be happy together?"

She turned to face me, cupping my cheek. "Of course. Marriage isn’t just about love, it is about building a life together. It is about children, and duty and responsibility. It is of God."

"Is protecting the pure race also of God?" I asked.

She didn’t even flinch. "Of course. It is one of the most holy pursuits."

For the second time, just like the night at the pageant, I saw her for the person she really was under the powder and silks. This was who Sarah Page was, and I was ashamed it had taken me this long to figure it out.

"What about lynching? Is that also of your God?"

She pursed her lips and smoothed her dress. "Are we over then?"

"I think it is best for both of us."

"Then you can kiss your business goodbye." She turned around and walked into the house.

30

Gema

Expert Tells How to Prepare Tempting Delicacies

I'd stopped counting days and started counting the spaces between them. Two weeks of meals with the Alderman’s, of shopping and social calls in prominent parlors and church pews. Two weeks of shifts at the hospital with no sight of him. Two weeks where I had to imagine the press of his lips against mine. Two weeks since I'd done something I couldn't undo and wasn't sure I wanted to. Two weeks since the copper I needed had arrived on my doorstep with a note that said, From H.

I stared at it now, turning the metal over, but feeling like I was somewhere else. I was back in his arms, his lips on mine, kissing me over and over again. It was ridiculous. I’d been kissed plenty of times, but this was the only one that had lingered.

I looked at the copper wire, along with vinegar and zinc nails I’d collected from the hardware store. The materials were everything I needed to charge the ORI. I’d decided to do it the night of the ball, when everyone was distracted. If the night I kissed Houston had taught me anything, it was that I really needed to leave. I’d grown too attached to the people here, to the Alderman’s, to Lettie and Houston. Would this timeline still exist? This part of the science had never been extensively studied. We believed that we started anew every time we entered the ORI, but there was no way to know that. If this timeline continued, would he notice when I left?

I already knew the answer. Of course he wouldn't. He’d marry Sarah, and they’d have lots of babies and that would be that.

I smoothed my apron, looking down the row of pies cooling on the church table. The picnic was full of people raising funds for Black candidates to run in local elections. People were spread across the lawn on blankets, children rolling down the grassy hills.