2

Baton Rouge, Louisiana…

Alissa stood in front of the mirror, buttoning up her light blue uniform. She hated this uniform. Her mother Camille had gotten Alissa a job a few months ago, working with her as a housekeeper on the Shady Willows Plantation. She wanted to go to law school at Xavier University, but tuition at a private University was very expensive, and frankly, her parents barely made enough to survive. They couldn’t put her through school too.

So, she got a job and was saving up, but given that she only made $0.77 an hour, it was going to take a long time to be able to pay the outrageous tuition. But Alissa was determined she was going to make something of herself; she was not going to be a career housekeeper like her mother, working her fingers to the bone for ungrateful white folk that treated her like garbage. She had only been working on the plantation for three months, and she already loathed her job. She hated going to work, and from the moment she arrived, she counted down the minutes until she could leave. The hours were long, and so was the commute. She only got through the days by telling herself she wasn’t going to be doing it forever.

There was a knock on the door. “Alissa come on, or we will be late,” her mother called to her from the other side of the door.

“Coming,” she tied her long hair back in a thick ponytail. Alissa wore her dark hair in hundreds of long thin braids that hung down to her waist. It wasn’t a popular fashion, but Alissa liked it. It kept her hair tidy and required little maintenance. But Mrs. Cromwell didn’t let her wear it down; she insisted Alissa tie it back when working. Even her mother thought her hair looked ridiculous. Camille kept telling Alissa that she should wear it like Aretha Franklin or the women of Sweet Inspirations, but while Alissa enjoyed their music, she wasn’t a trend follower. She preferred to do her own thing.

Alissa left her room and joined her mother and father in the small living room. Her father worked in the textile mill owned by Blackstone Cotton, he worked long shifts, but he always drove his wife and daughter to work on his way to the mill. They left the house, and Alissa climbed into the backseat of the Buick. She lay her head against the window and tried to get a little more sleep before she got to work. The trip took an hour, so she had plenty of time.

God knows once she got to work, there would be no rest. The family had been in Massachusetts for the last week. Their eldest son Donavon Cromwell was graduating from Harvard. It must be nice to have mommy and daddy pay his way. It was the start of the summer season, and as she was told, Mr. and Mrs. Cromwell was returning with all three of their pampered children. The house was going to be full.

The family was planning many big events in the coming week. A party to welcome their son Donavon home and another party for their daughter Misty to show her off to the marriageable men of Louisiana. It was to be a big social event, but to Alissa, it just meant more work.

When they finally got to work, Alissa and Camille went in through the servants’ entrance, which leads directly into the kitchen. Otis Arnold had gathered the entire staff that morning to tell everyone what was to happen and what he expected of all of them. Otis had worked for the family for thirty years. He managed the entire staff. He was in charge of hiring and firing, and he was the only servant that dealt directly with the family. The rest of them were paid to do their job and to do it silently and as invisible as possible, but from time to time, the family members would speak directly to a staff member… usually to tell them off and belittle them. When the family told off Alissa or her mother, Alissa found it very hard to hold her tongue, but she did because she knew her mother needed this job.

After the pep-talk, Alissa went to work. She started by preparing the bedrooms. Otis said the family would likely want to retire to their rooms to relax after their flight. Once she was done, she went down to the kitchen to give Olivia a hand at preparing lunch in case the family was hungry when they got in.

She was kneading bread when another housekeeper Gia Cash came down the stairs to tell them the family had just returned. Gia was six years older than Alissa, but they were still friends. Mr. and Mrs. Cromwell had just returned with their two sons, and later that day, their daughter was expected in from Paris.

Olivia suggested they put together a tray of pastries and some tea for Mrs. Cromwell. Alissa continued to make the fresh bread while her mother put together the tea platter. She looked up when she heard footsteps on the stairs expecting to see Otis, but instead, she saw a man that she assumed was the eldest son.

Donavon Cromwell was a sight to see. He was tall and fit more so than most men in his station. His shoulders were broad, and his waist narrow. He had long legs, and he had to duck to clear the roof at the bottom of the stairs. He was clean-cut and clean-shaven with short auburn hair and haunting steel blue eyes. For a man, his features were almost angelic. He was very attractive for a white man, and he had a warm smile. His blue eyes lit right up when he saw Olivia.

Olivia squealed with delight and threw up her hands when she saw junior, Mr. Cromwell. “Oh, my little man,” she cried with tears of joy, and she and Donavon embraced. It was funny that she would call him her little man when he towered over her by almost a good foot. She framed his face with her hands and planted a chaste motherly kiss on his lips.

“I had to come down and say hello,” he said as he held her arms. “I have missed you so much.”

Olivia pinched his cheeks. “And I have missed you. Look at my little man all grown up. Are you hungry? Can I make you something?”

“No,” he said, turning down her offer. “I’m jet-lagged. I’m going to rest a bit before I do anything else, but I just had to come down and see you.”

“I’m so glad you did. I’m making your favourite for dinner tonight. Blackened catfish, and for dessert, devil’s food cake.”

“Oh, that sounds divine. I have missed your cooking.”

“I can see that,” Olivia grinned as she patted his firm, flat belly. “You are so skinny,” she teased.

“I’m sure it won’t take you long to fatten me up.”

“Ok, you go rest. We will catch up later,” Olivia said, turning him around and ushering him back toward the stairs. “Your mother will freak if she finds you down here. You know how she hates it when you fraternize with the help.”

Donavon laughed and glanced around the kitchen one last time. “I’m sure no one will rat me out,” he said, and then he caught sight of Alissa, and he stopped in his tracks. Not even Olivia could budge him. Their eyes met, and a crooked little smile turned up the corners of his mouth, and Alissa couldn’t help the smile that did the same to hers.

“Go,” Olivia insisted as she smacked him on the bottom like she would when scolding a small child.

Donavon laughed as he stepped up on the first step. “Ok-ok, I’m going,” he took one last look at Alissa and then ducked his head and made his way upstairs where he belonged.

Olivia was all smiled. Like a happy mother whose only child had come home. As far as Alissa knew, Oliva was never married and had no children of her own, but she had raised the Cromwell children since birth, and she loved each of them as her own, even the two that treated her like dirt. But her favourite was and always had been Donavon. And from what Alissa could see, Donavon was found of Olivia too.

Alissa looked around the kitchen, wondering if anyone else had noticed the way Donavon had looked at her. She certainly hoped not. Oliva seemed to be oblivious. She was too caught up in her joy of having Donavon home to notice anything else, but Camille and Gia were both watching her. Gia was smiling, amused, but Camille did not look impressed. She didn’t look like she liked the way Donavon looked at her daughter. Alissa could understand why. Her parents believed, like most everyone else, that people should stick to their kind. It was something Alissa had been brought up to believe. Truth be told, she had never been attracted to white men before, but there was something different about this one. She wasn’t sure what it was. But she knew her place. How couldn’t she? Her mother took every opportunity to remind her.

Alissa returned to kneading the bread while Olivia started making the cake she promised Donavon. Olivia went on and on about how nice it was going to be to have her kids home. Gia went back to work, and Camille stood nearby as she scaled and flayed a catfish ever so often, glaring at her daughter disapprovingly.

After their duties in the kitchen were done, Camille and Alissa went upstairs to help Gia tidy the house. Camille would dust while Alissa got on her hands and knees and scrubbed the floors in every room. She wanted to get it done before the family woke from their naps.