Josephine by Beverly Jenkins

Author:Beverly Jenkins [Jenkins, Beverly]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, General, People & Places, United States, African American
ISBN: 9781426827457
Google: IaHJmgIQJZcC
Amazon: 0373831250
Publisher: Kimani Press
Published: 2009-02-01T10:39:58+00:00

eleven

After dinner ended, Mrs. Best and Belle cleaned off the table while Jo and George went out to the front porch. Adam hobbled over to a chair so as to not be in Belle or Mrs. Best’s way. He forced himself to sit even though he would have preferred to go out to the porch and spy on Jo and George Brooks. Doing so would only relight Jo’s fuse and Adam didn’t want to risk that. Telling himself that Brooks’s intentions toward Jo were none of his business made no difference to Adam. He wanted to know what they were doing and what sweet nothings Brooks might be whispering in her ears.

Mrs. Best’s voice broke into his reverie. “Adam, you’re scowling. Is your ankle paining you?”

“Uh, no,” he answered hastily. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t appear to believe him, but went ahead and removed the last of the dishes from the table, then disappeared back into the kitchen. Adam resumed scowling.

Meanwhile, outside on the porch, Jo was listening to George’s vision of his future. He said, “I wouldn’t mind having a passel of children and a wife who was devoted to them and to me.”

“But not a wife intent upon her family and a business enterprise?” Jo asked.

George said, “That would be fine for a while, but after the children are born, I’d expect her to focus on being a mother.”

Jo felt that familiar deflated feeling return. “It isn’t fair to your wife to make her choose, George.”

“I don’t agree.”

“I think a woman can do both,” Jo insisted.

He shook his head. “Maybe some women can, but I wouldn’t want my wife to. The family should be her business, and she should let her husband guide her future.”

Jo couldn’t help herself. She giggled.

George eyed her curiously. “What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry. I just—George, this is the nineteenth century. How can you be so—”

“Traditional?”

Backward had been the word Jo would have used, but decided his choice to be more diplomatic. “Yes, traditional.”

“I feel very strongly about the roles in a marriage.”

“As do I, and as an Oberlin graduate with my own business, I doubt I need my husband telling me what I may or may not do. My mama would have a fit if Papa tried to direct her life.”

“Then maybe your papa should put his foot down.”

Jo cocked her head his way, then said flatly, “Papa doesn’t want to put his foot down. He’s very proud of Mama and her accomplishments.”

“Women were created to be a helpmate to their husbands.”

Jo found this conversation maddening. “Women are more than just helpers, George.”

“Not where I’m from.”

“And you expect your wife to defer to you in all things?”

“I do,” George said with a confident smile.

She shook her head and chuckled. “Well, be prepared to have your mind changed.”

“There’s nothing to change. A man is the head of his house.” His smile remained steady.

“George, who on earth is going to marry you under such antiquated circumstances? It’s a new world. Women are studying to be doctors. They own newspapers, they’re going to colleges.

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