Chapter 7: Mama's Confession

When Mama arrived Netty was already dressed, her hair braided and pinned in a large knot at the back of her head. Mama looked her over carefully. Netty felt like the cattle at auction must feel when potential buyers inspected them. She didn’t remember the last time her mother had truly seen her. If the older woman looked at her at all it felt more like her eyes just happened to be pointed in Netty’s direction.

“You’re hair isn’t quite right,” Mama declared. “Sit down so I can fix it.”

Netty did as she was told, taking a seat in the little chair beside the window. Her mother combed out her hair.

“While we may not be close, and I don’t approve of much about you, you are still my daughter, and I would not marry you out to anyone I didn’t think would take proper care of you. Mr. Stent is a good man, a good match, and God willing he can use his talents to ease the suffering that bedevils you. Listen to him, do as he says, and I believe you will do well,” Mama said tersely as she wove long strands of orange hair into a pair of French braids.

Netty didn’t know what to say. It was the nicest thing her mother had said to her that she could remember.

“Mama?” Netty asked around the lump in her throat.

“Yes?” Mama replied, twisting the braids into an elegant knot.

“I’m sorry for how I am,” Netty said quietly. “I don’t know how I got this way, and I never meant for it to be such a bother to you.”

“I know I’ve been hard on you, but I can hardly blame you for being born the way you are. I blame myself for that. The majority of the time I was pregnant with you your father was off working with the railroad because the crops had been so bad the two years before and we didn’t have the money to pay what we owed on the land. I was out there alone with Rand to keep watch of, sick to the gills with the pregnancy, and not being as mindful of my bible as I ought to have been. The dreams I had were so wicked I can’t even think about them all these years later without shame. It’s been my reasoning these last few years that those dreams let something into me that housed itself in you.”

Netty listened to her mother’s confession as if hearing it from another world. “This may not be my fault?”

Her mother, finished with her hair, stood in front of the window looking out at the street.

“The blight may not be your fault, but you cultivated it past what it should have ever been allowed to grow into. While you’re not the only one to blame you are certainly responsible for your fair share of it. I did my best to curb you’re salacious desires and you turned around and seduced my husband out from under me,” Mama replied, the edge of her familiar dislike easing back into her tone. “I don’t believe his soul will ever repent enough to escape Hell, Rand’s either for that matter. I pray that Rand is young enough still to be granted some forgiveness and the Lord will take pity on him for being just a boy baited by succubi.”

“And what of your part in making me this way?” Netty asked, feeling embolden by the knowledge her mother was no perfect pious woman as she’d always presented herself.

“That’s between me and the Almighty, child.”

Another word was not said between them. When it was time to leave Netty followed her mother down to the dinning room with her little suitcase.

“Netty, come with me to make sure we’ve gotten all your things set aside and haven’t missed anything,” Papa said, taking the suitcase from her hand.

Mama gave them both a withering glance, but went on to the table with her younger daughters while Netty and Papa went outside to the large barn where all the wagons were sheltered along with the horses. Once there he led her to the back of the big wagon.

“Where’s Rand’s wagon?” Netty asked, looking for it along the lined up wagons.

“Your mama sent him ahead a bit. He voiced a very different opinion on the matters at hand last night and we decided it would be better for everyone if he weren’t here for the ceremony.”

She thought about how he’d come to her room the night before. He hadn’t spoke, but he’d said his goodbye. Tears came so quickly they were already dripping off her chin before she could stop them. Papa wrapped her in his arms and pulled her as close as he could. Before she could stop them her tears were already soaking into his shirt. He rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head.

“It will be okay,” he said quietly into her hair. “Rand understands, even if he doesn’t want to. He knows Mr. Stent is the one who needs to marry you. He knows Mr. Stent will take care of you, and get you the help you need.”

“I don’t want help!” Netty wailed as quietly as she could. “I don’t care if he’s a good man or going to take care of me; I don’t want to go with him! I want to go with you and Rand and the girls and I want to spend the nights tucked in with you both. I know why it’s wrong, but I don’t understand how it can be so bad to other people when it doesn’t even hurt anyone!”

It had been years since Netty had thrown a fit but Papa could tell she was dangerously close to an all-out temper tantrum. He held her at arms length and wiped her face with his handkerchief. “You know that can’t happen, Sugar-Snap. This is for the best. Someday when we’ve all gotten past this and gotten treatment you and Mr. Stent can come for a visit at the new property. We’ll be a proper family! Your sisters will have grown up, Rand will have married, and both his and your children can grow up without the kind of scandal he was proposing last night. You have to have faith that God is putting us on our correct paths. You have to trust Mr. Stent to do what is best for you when you leave with him, even if you don’t want to do it. Promise me you’ll do anything he says to do, anything at all, to get better.”

With a little hiccuping sob Netty nodded her head. “I promise, Papa.”

He smiled down at her. “That’s my good girl!”

While they went over her belongings and disentangled them from the back of the wagon she was able to get herself under control and tears dried before joining the rest of the family inside for breakfast . The food lost all texture and flavor on her tongue, so she ate very little while she waited for Mama to announce it was time. Across the table her sisters looked at her with wide eyes, the older ones beginning to realize that she would be going away like the other two who had married before the wagon trip west. She tried to smile at them, but knew the effort didn’t look much like happiness.