why haven’t you asked him out?” Lily asked.
“No sparks,” Sally said. “If I can’t have electricity and chemistry, I’ll stay single. I had the ho-hum marriage, and it just didn’t work for me.”
Looking back, Lily could say that her marriage hadn’t been ho-hum, at least not at first, but in all honesty, she had to admit that the romance had died several years before Wyatt said he’d found another woman.
Lily could hardly wait that evening to get up to her room and dive into the journal again. The pages were so old that they felt as if they could crumble in her hands, so she turned them carefully. The ink had faded in some places more than others, and she had to get the bedside lampshade adjusted just right to see the words clearly.
Matilda Smith Bedford, June 1870
Lily glanced back over the last pages she’d read and realized that she’d turned two pages at once. She read those before she went on to what Matilda had written.
This entry was dated May 1, 1865:
This is my first time to write in this journal. I feel like I should continue Mama’s path, but there’s so much to write that I don’t quite know where to begin. I found this journal among Mama’s possessions, and it broke my heart to read what she’d written, but I was glad to know those things since she didn’t talk about the past. My stepfather, Everett, and my mama, Ophelia, died last month. I felt like life had given me a second chance when Mama married Everett, and we finally got to move away from Uncle Walter. That was the most miserable year of my entire life. I felt so sorry for Mama, working her fingers to the bone sewing every day, and then having to give her money to Walter. Everett was a good, kind man who loved my mother, and she had good years with him before they passed from the fever. I got the news by telegram, and Henry and I traveled to Georgia with my two young children to take care of their affairs. I wept for days because Mama had never gotten to lay eyes on her grandchildren, and Jenny, with her pale blue eyes and dark hair, looks so much like her.
Lily’s first tear fell on the page and blurred the ink on the last word. She grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and wiped her wet cheeks as she mourned for Ophelia, who had died before she met her grandchildren. Lily regretted not bringing the kids to see their grandparents more often than she did. They only lived a couple of hours away, but somehow every weekend had been filled with events. Those were excuses, not reasons, especially in the summertime, she reminded herself as she went on reading.
Since Everett had no children, he left his small farm to me. I sold it and gave half the money to Henry. I met Rayford when he came home with Henry after the war. They stayed a couple of months. Everett was kind to Rayford, and I thought folks would be like-minded toward me when I agreed to marry Rayford and go to Pennsylvania with him. I was wrong, but our marriage continues to survive in spite of the prejudices that still linger. My father fought for the Confederacy; his for the Union. The war has been over for years, but both sides still carry a huge grudge. I’ve adapted to the culture of the north, and my children, Jenny and Samuel, are my life. I’m expecting number three around Christmastime, and I’m hoping it’s another boy. Henry married a sweet girl, albeit a nervous woman who spends a lot of time either at the doctor’s or else lying abed. They have no children, and maybe that’s for the best with her constant illness. Looking back, I’m not sure that marrying Rayford was the smartest decision I ever made. He’s a good, hardworking man, but he has a wandering eye when it comes to women. Mama told me when I got on the stagecoach to come here that I’d have to sleep in the bed I’d made. I wonder if the time will ever come when a woman will have the same rights as men.
Oh, Matilda, Lily thought, the day did come, but human nature never changes. Her mama saw something in Wyatt that Lily’s blinded eyes couldn’t. Vera told her the same thing about sleeping in her bed on the day