Harlem Redux by Persia Walker Page B

child. I coulda told her it was the quiet b’fore the storm. Miss Gem was just biding her time.
    “Oh, she was proper and correct when Miss Lilian was round, but the moment Miss Lilian was outta sight? Hmmm-hm! Miss Gem used to follow Mr. Jameson ‘round with her eyes whenever they was in a room together. She’d say li’l cutting things at the dinner table and look over at Mr. Jameson like they was sharing a secret. She’d find a way to touch him, get close to him, every time she saw him. She’d brush up ‘gainst his shoulder if they happen to come in a room at the same time. She had sumptin’ in mind all right.
    “Miss Lilian saw what was going on, but she wouldn’t let it get to her. She did say sumptin’ to me. Once. We was in the kitchen. She wanted to know about supplies for a dinner party she was planning. I don’t right recall how we got on the subject. Maybe I asked her about the seating. Anyway, she said to make sure Miss Gem’s place at the table was as far down from Mr. Jameson’s as possible. She musta caught my look, ‘cause she turned her eyes away sorta embarrassed. Then, she said, ‘I know there’s nothing to worry about, Annie. Gem’s trying to rile me. She wants to prove that my man’s no good. But we not gonna play her game. He’s not about to give her the satisfaction, and neither am I.’
    “Miss Lilian tried to sound brave, but her voice shook. She weren’t nowhere near as confident as she made out to be. She knew Miss Gem wasn’t one to give up easy. Now I know lots of women woulda put their sister outta the house. But Miss Lilian wasn’t like that. I don’t b’lieve it ever crossed her mind. Still, there was a lotta talk going round. Some people said Miss Lilian was a fool. Said she’d invited the fox into the chicken coup, and was working hard on keeping it there. But Miss Lilian said her marriage was her business. And she was not gonna let the gossips get their way.”
    “Why didn’t Sweet do something to set Gem straight? Say something?”
    “Well, actu’ly, he did. I gotta say he tried. It was about a month later, in late November. Miss Lilian went to a lit’rary conference in Chicago. Mr. Jameson drove her to the train station.
    “That morning, I washed the windows, starting with the downstairs, and worked my way up to the second floor. It got to be ‘round lunchtime. I was heating up some chowder—I love me some soup, ‘specially in the wintertime—and the doorbell rang. It was Miss Gem. She’d gone out and forgotten her key. I let her in. She went on in to the parlor. I went back to the kitchen. I was breaking my last cracker over my soup when I looked up to check the time, and I sees Mr. Jameson’s car pulling up to the house. I let Mr. Jameson in, then came on back in here, finished eating, and did the dishes real quick. The wash was next, so I headed upstairs to get the used linen and dirty clothes. I had to go past the parlor. Them doors weren’t shut all the way. I couldn’t help hearing. Mr. Jameson had joined Miss Gem in the parlor. Now Mr. David, I ain’t never eavesdropped before. Ain't never spied on nobody. But that day, sumptin’ told me to go on and do it. Soon as I saw them two was in there together, I put my eye to the crack in the door and had me a good look-see.
    “Miss Gem had found herself some bootleg liquor and was curled up on the sofa with a glass of it. Mr. Jameson was leaning up ‘gainst the fireplace mantel. He was telling her that Miss Lilian had missed her at breakfast. Miss Gem shrugged like she didn’t care and said she’d see her sister when she got back. Mr. Jameson didn’t like that attitude, didn’t like it at all. But he didn’t say nothing, just took out his cigarette case and lit a Lucky Strike. He smoked for a li’l while, all the time studying Miss Gem. Finally, he turned round and tapped his ashes in the fireplace. Then he gave Miss Gem sumptin’ to think about.
    “‘I’m only going to say this one