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Authors: Barbara Chase-Riboud
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your expense."
"Love is always at another's expense."
"Love is doing something for that person. Changing
things."
"But there is nothing you can do for me. You can't
change the past."
"I can change myself."
"But don't you see; that's the danger. You change
yourself, and first thing you want is to change me, then those around you—your
family, your life, the South, everything. There is danger when you contradict
your roots, what is considered 'right,' what is accepted."
"I said you were a dangerous lady, and you
laughed," Langdon said.
"I just don't want to see you hurt. Not by others and
not by me. All these months, there have been remarks about us."
"I know that."
"And there are Eston and Madison to consider."
Langdon suddenly sensed Sally Hemings slipping out of his
grasp. Several times in the past he had had this sensation of panic.
"Damn Eston and Madison!" he said. "What
about you? What do you want?"
"I've never had what I wanted, Nathan. Never."
"Why?" he asked, like a stubborn child.
"Because..."
Sally Hemings did not continue, and she smiled at this
childish exchange. There was something naive and touching about Nathan. Some
basic innocence white men seemed to take in, she would have said, "With
their mother's milk," had it not been for the fact that that
"milk" had been black. There were times she believed that white skin
was just a protective covering—nothing ever really seemed to penetrate it.
"This time you will," Nathan said.
The violent temper Sally Hemings had striven all her life
to conceal flashed to the surface; she suddenly wanted to slap his face hard,
to bury herself in his chest, and scream curses at him.
"No, I won't," she answered vehemently. She
wanted to hurt him. "It will end, Nathan ... and I shall miss you."
"There is no reason on earth why it should end."
There was every reason on earth, she thought.
"Let's not talk about it," she said.
They both looked away at this. To put the possibility of an
ending in words was tempting fate with their fragile happiness. The same fate
that had brought the lonely woman and the lonely young man together in the
first place. Langdon knew he must break the tension.
"Besides," he said lightly, "if I stopped
coming to see you, where would you get your weekly gossip and slander? Madison
has no imagination, and Eston has no malice."
They both smiled at this. Eston's good nature and Madison's
bad temper had become a private joke between them. Nathan Langdon felt a rush
of affection: everything was all right again.
He smiled and rose.
"You're leaving?"
"I must. I only stopped for a minute." He looked
at his watch. "I am going to miss the post."
"Oh, Nathan, I've kept you again."
"No," he said sharply. "I wanted to come. I
hadn't seen you in more than a week. But I haven't had any time since this new
lawsuit started."
"How is it progressing?"
"Badly. I'm up against one of the slickest, most
outrageous liars I've ever had the misfortune to represent. He changes his
story every day. At least I can say that the adversary is consistent—consistently
lying...."
"Nathan, how are you supposed to defend someone who
lies?"
"It can be done. Liars can be defended brilliantly and
honest men can be destroyed. You should know that—you've seen many an honest
man lose ... especially in politics."
"Promise me." Sally Hemings suddenly reached out
and touched Nathan's sleeve. A flicker of memory, like a grain of sand, made
her blink.
"Yes?" he said, his voice low.
"Promise me you'll bring the latest ending to the
Randolph saga of the 'look-alike chickens coming home to roost'!"
The young man burst into laughter. Then he said softly,
"I promise."
"No excuses...."
"Please, Ma'am, am I the kind of gentleman who would
bring excuses when I could bring mayhem and scandal? By the way, the latest
Andrew Jackson joke is that when he puts on his reading spectacles, he turns
out all the lights!"
With that he was already out the door. She watched him
descend
"Love is always at another's expense."
"Love is doing something for that person. Changing
things."
"But there is nothing you can do for me. You can't
change the past."
"I can change myself."
"But don't you see; that's the danger. You change
yourself, and first thing you want is to change me, then those around you—your
family, your life, the South, everything. There is danger when you contradict
your roots, what is considered 'right,' what is accepted."
"I said you were a dangerous lady, and you
laughed," Langdon said.
"I just don't want to see you hurt. Not by others and
not by me. All these months, there have been remarks about us."
"I know that."
"And there are Eston and Madison to consider."
Langdon suddenly sensed Sally Hemings slipping out of his
grasp. Several times in the past he had had this sensation of panic.
"Damn Eston and Madison!" he said. "What
about you? What do you want?"
"I've never had what I wanted, Nathan. Never."
"Why?" he asked, like a stubborn child.
"Because..."
Sally Hemings did not continue, and she smiled at this
childish exchange. There was something naive and touching about Nathan. Some
basic innocence white men seemed to take in, she would have said, "With
their mother's milk," had it not been for the fact that that
"milk" had been black. There were times she believed that white skin
was just a protective covering—nothing ever really seemed to penetrate it.
"This time you will," Nathan said.
The violent temper Sally Hemings had striven all her life
to conceal flashed to the surface; she suddenly wanted to slap his face hard,
to bury herself in his chest, and scream curses at him.
"No, I won't," she answered vehemently. She
wanted to hurt him. "It will end, Nathan ... and I shall miss you."
"There is no reason on earth why it should end."
There was every reason on earth, she thought.
"Let's not talk about it," she said.
They both looked away at this. To put the possibility of an
ending in words was tempting fate with their fragile happiness. The same fate
that had brought the lonely woman and the lonely young man together in the
first place. Langdon knew he must break the tension.
"Besides," he said lightly, "if I stopped
coming to see you, where would you get your weekly gossip and slander? Madison
has no imagination, and Eston has no malice."
They both smiled at this. Eston's good nature and Madison's
bad temper had become a private joke between them. Nathan Langdon felt a rush
of affection: everything was all right again.
He smiled and rose.
"You're leaving?"
"I must. I only stopped for a minute." He looked
at his watch. "I am going to miss the post."
"Oh, Nathan, I've kept you again."
"No," he said sharply. "I wanted to come. I
hadn't seen you in more than a week. But I haven't had any time since this new
lawsuit started."
"How is it progressing?"
"Badly. I'm up against one of the slickest, most
outrageous liars I've ever had the misfortune to represent. He changes his
story every day. At least I can say that the adversary is consistent—consistently
lying...."
"Nathan, how are you supposed to defend someone who
lies?"
"It can be done. Liars can be defended brilliantly and
honest men can be destroyed. You should know that—you've seen many an honest
man lose ... especially in politics."
"Promise me." Sally Hemings suddenly reached out
and touched Nathan's sleeve. A flicker of memory, like a grain of sand, made
her blink.
"Yes?" he said, his voice low.
"Promise me you'll bring the latest ending to the
Randolph saga of the 'look-alike chickens coming home to roost'!"
The young man burst into laughter. Then he said softly,
"I promise."
"No excuses...."
"Please, Ma'am, am I the kind of gentleman who would
bring excuses when I could bring mayhem and scandal? By the way, the latest
Andrew Jackson joke is that when he puts on his reading spectacles, he turns
out all the lights!"
With that he was already out the door. She watched him
descend
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