The Autobiography of Mrs. Tom Thumb - Melanie Benjamin [39]
“I, well, yes, I believe so. Copulating, you mean?”
“Listen to you, Vinnie!” She grinned, her pale blue eyes round with admiration. “Always coming up with such fancy words—I plum forget you were a schoolmarm sometimes, and then you go and remind me. Copulating—I swear!” And she repeated it again, as if learning a new word in a new language.
“But why would you give me this?” I held out the envelope, away from my person, as if it might taint me by proximity. I struggled to understand what she was implying.
“So you don’t have a baby.” She repeated herself patiently, as if I were a child. “Don’t you understand? Screwin’ is how babies get made.”
“I understand that, Carlotta, but what I don’t quite see is why I would have need for this kind of—of prevention?”
“Oh, Vinnie! You’re such a smart little thing that I forget you don’t know much of the world! Why do you think men want to meet you alone? There’s only one reason for that, although I have to say it’s not right, not for someone your size, but Lord, I’ve learned it takes all kinds in this world. You have no idea some of the things these river men want—animals, sisters, even other men—”
“Stop!” I was sickened, horrified, by her meaning. Scrambling up from the floor, I felt my face burn, and I couldn’t look her in the eyes. “Stop—I don’t want to hear this! I have no intention of engaging in—in—what it was you just said. Even Colonel Wood would not—these are respectable people, he said! There is no need for this!” And I thrust the envelope into her hands.
“But, Vinnie, I’m just looking out for you—you have to be prepared!”
“No, I thank you, but—no. There is no need, no need at all!” I hurried out of Carlotta’s room, still unable to look her in the face. How did she know of these things? I felt sorry for her, for her life; I felt even sorrier for her fiancé, who must not have any idea of her past. I knew she was only trying to be kind, but I could not help but feel sickened and insulted, all the same.
I refused even to consider the scenario she had so easily conjured up; still, I felt grateful, as I waited nervously in the parlor for Mr. Grant, that Mrs. Billy Birch’s rock was securely in my reticule, which was attached to my wrist.
There was a knock on the parlor door; my stomach plummeted to my feet, and I clasped my reticule to my breast. “C-come in,” I barely managed to say, through cold, trembling lips.
“Miss Bump?” A short, stocky man with a beard opened the door, hat in hand. His gaze swept the room at his own height; it took him a moment to remember to look down. Finally, he saw me; his eyes widened, and his face creased into a slow grin. “Oh, goodness! Just a moment—” He ducked his head back outside the door, and I heard him say, “Julia! Children! She’s in here!”
At the mention of a female name, my entire body, which I had been holding stiff as a corpse, perhaps in anticipation of my imminent doom, relaxed. I reached up to place my reticule upon an end table and turned to receive my visitors.
Mr. Grant ushered in his family: his wife and four children, the youngest a little boy still in skirts, carried by Mrs. Grant. The children shyly hung back while their parents approached me, somewhat timidly, as if I might suddenly attack them. They were, I was astonished to realize, almost as frightened of me as I had been of them! This realization made me relax even further; I stepped forward and held my hand out to Mr. Grant, hoping to put him at ease.
“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Miss Bump.”
“Thank you for meeting with us, Miss Bump. I am Mr. Grant. This is my wife, Mrs. Grant, and our children. Freddie, Buck, Nellie, and little Jesse.”
Mr. Grant bowed stiffly, while Mrs. Grant, a plain woman with small, crossed eyes, shook my hand very timidly and shifted the child in her arms.
“Please, let us sit,” I said, and holding my skirts, I stepped upon the stool and climbed, as gracefully as possible, upon the chair I had chosen.
The children could not prevent themselves from giggling at my exertions; I pretended not to notice,