And my mother and Nana Lisbeth? she wondered. She wasn’t ready to tell him that she was supporting the whole family since Momma fell ill.

  He paid for her fare across the bay and waved to them as they floated back to Oakland.

  On Sunday, after church, May sat on a couch in the living room at Peter and Elena’s. Kay Lynn toddled away from her, a little rabbit in her right fist. She had abandoned her crab crawl entirely since those steps at the Barrows’ a week ago. That day of firsts was also a last. May was struck by how often she was unaware of an ending while it was happening.

  Kay Lynn finished her journey at Leonardo’s knee. She offered him the rabbit, which he happily accepted. He picked her up and walked to May. Kay Lynn pointed, as if she were steering the way with her little pointer finger.

  “Thank you,” May said, and he sat beside her on the couch.

  They were at Elena and Peter’s for a birthday celebration . . . and a farewell party. Many of these young men had no choice except shipping off to war soon. Including Leonardo. The draft was turning lives upside down. May was glad to have an opportunity to speak with him . . . and wish him well. Kay Lynn stayed on his lap.

  “She still likes you.” May smiled.

  “And I still like her,” he replied with the sweetest smile. Then his face transformed into one of concern. “How is your mother?”

  “You are kind to ask.” He truly was a most thoughtful man. She considered her answer. “It’s difficult to know. Some days she seems to be better. Others just the same.”

  “We can be grateful she’s not worse, yes?” he inquired.

  She nodded.

  “Elena passed on my recommendation of Dr. Chan, right? He comes to your home. His needles are very small and don’t hurt, despite the odd appearance. He also prescribed herbs. I’m confident he cured my father.”

  May nodded. “He’s coming tomorrow to give her a treatment. We are willing to try almost anything at this point.”

  “Lenny!” Peter called from across the room.

  “I’m being summoned,” he said with a regretful smile.

  “Lenny?” she repeated. “You go by Lenny now?”

  “Leonardo Stephanopolis was turned down repeatedly,” he explained. “Once Lenny Stevens applied for a job I got one almost immediately.”

  “That’s unfair—being Greek should not interfere with your employment.”

  “Fair or not, it did.” He shrugged. “I’m glad there was a simple solution for it. I don’t mind being Lenny. Leonardo is a mouthful.”

  He set Kay Lynn on the couch, rubbed her curls, and walked away.

  “Leo . . . Lenny,” May called to him.

  He turned back, his eyebrow rose in curiosity.

  “I will hold you in my prayers. Every night,” she said. Surprisingly, her voice broke. “Stay safe. Please.”

  His lips pulled into a sad smile. Looking at her intently, he nodded. Then he shrugged. “I wasn’t going to stay safe, but since you asked, okay,” he teased. She returned a bittersweet smile.

  Leonardo was about to face the unfathomable. He didn’t know where he would be sent or what horrors he might see, or commit. A shiver traveled down May’s spine. She resisted the urge to flinch, to shake it off, until he’d turned around.

  Elena walked up to May asking a question before she even sat down. “How did your visit to Nob Hill go?” She drew out the words to emphasize the posh neighborhood.

  May leaned over Elena’s belly. “Hello, baby,” she sang to the little one.

  Elena laughed and rubbed the spot over her womb.

  “Well?” her cousin asked.

  May seesawed her head from side to side as she pondered the question. “If I told you every detail you would think it went well. Mrs. Barrow was warm and thoughtful. She placed a high chair between the two of us and virtually ignored the men at the other end of the table. John seemed an outcast in his childhood home. Over lunch she made it clear they gave their blessing to marry me two years ago, that her son made a terrible mistake, and she was horrified when she found out he abandoned me even after learning I was carrying his child. She has set up a nursery for Kay Lynn and was delighted by her in all the ways you would want for a grandmother.”

  “That sounds encouraging,” Elena said. “What is your concern?”

  May sighed. “John wants me to see his home in Marin. He told me once we are engaged I can stop working and we can be married very quickly.”

  Elena kept listening, encouraging May to keep talking.

  “He doesn’t know Momma is sick. Or that I am the sole source of income for my family.”

  Elena drew her eyebrows in. “Why haven’t you told him?”

  “He hasn’t asked, but I haven’t offered the information either. I do not trust that he will agree to take care of Momma and Nana Lisbeth.”

  “What will you do if he won’t?”

  “I don’t know.” May shook her head. “Mrs. Barrow was utterly charmed by Kay Lynn. She offered to take her to a physiotherapist—to get her anything she needs. John does not seem to have given her much thought, though that is common for fathers, right?”

  “Yes. Especially with daughters; especially when they are so young,” Elena agreed. “You seem so doubtful, not excited at all.”

  “I do not trust him,” May confessed, and she welled up, “but he is Kay Lynn’s father. I don’t know what to do.”

  “It has just been a few weeks since he reached out to you. Perhaps in time he can prove himself,” Elena said. “When do you have to decide?”

  “Soon. Never. I do not know.”

  “What will be best for Kay Lynn?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  “And for you?” Her cousin asked with such tenderness that May teared up again.

  May shook her head. A few years ago she was so certain John would be her perfect husband, and a great father. Now she believed they would be provided for, and be warmly welcomed by his mother, but she did not trust John. What was more foolish: marrying him or rejecting the security he could provide?

  “I don’t know that either,” May told her cousin.

  CHAPTER 18

  NAOMI

  June 1917

  “Look at you, sons!” Willie appeared as if he would burst with pride.

  Joseph and Cedric grinned as they showed off their new uniforms in the living room: Joseph in the Twenty-Fourth Infantry’s tan; Cedric in the Tenth Cavalry’s khaki. Willie was confident that enlisting right away in these well-respected, long-established colored units was better than waiting to be drafted into newly formed units without a history of courage and honor. Joseph couldn’t be happier to have his childhood dream of being a buffalo soldier realized.

  Naomi wasn’t as certain this would be an excellent opportunity for their sons. She feared Joseph’s dream would soon become a nightmare. For him and Cedric. She swallowed back her nausea and exhaled hard. She pasted on a smile, but her distress was obvious for all to see.

  “Let’s go,” she declared, grabbing her purse and heading toward the door.

  They were all well dressed for a family photo at a studio. Afterward they would attend the reception for the colored troops that Mrs. Tilghman organized at the Fifteenth Street AME church. There would be flag waving, speeches, and celebrating, but Naomi didn’t share any part of the excitement. She only felt dread and fear.

  Joseph was being sent to Houston to patrol the border. The protests of the NAACP did nothing to change the government’s decision to station the Twenty-Fourth Infantry in a former slave state. The army insisted the local citizens and police were going to respect the United States uniform, if not the man wearing it, but Naomi doubted the colored troops would be given the regard they deserved.

  Cedric would be in Nogales, Arizona—also patrolling the Mexico border. Naomi didn’t know enough about the desert city to feel assured of his treatment, but she feared it less than Houston with its history of mistreating colored people. However, Naomi’s fears were irrelevant in this moment. Her sons were swept up in the patriotism of this time. Many colored people argued this war was an opportunity to advance their cause by demonstrating devotion to their nation.

  A week later Naomi returned to the photography studio. She stood at the counter staring at the framed picture of her family. She was seated on a bench between Gramma Jordan and Willie. Cedric, Joseph, and Maggie stood behind them. All six faces had smiles, but she saw the fear in her own eyes. She’d tried to hide it, but it was obvious to anyone who looked carefully.

  “Thank you,” she said to the young Negro man, grateful he’d captured their family before the moment of upheaval.

  He placed two more on the counter: two small prints of the same image. One for each son. She paid and went next door to finish her errands. As she walked in she saw a display of what she’d come for: pocket Bibles. She took two, leaving just three on the large table.

  “These are selling quickly,” the elegant saleswoman said. “What divisions?”

  “Twenty-Fourth Infantry and Tenth Cavalry,” Naomi replied to the now-familiar question.

  “My son, James Dellums, will be in the Twenty-Fourth too,” she said. “He’s proud to be a buffalo soldier. Maybe they will watch out for each other—two Oakland boys, far from home.”

  “I’ll tell my son Joseph Smith to look for your James,” Naomi agreed.

  She and this woman were bound in a club she never wanted to join.

  Naomi came home to an empty house. She set the gold-framed image on the dining room table. One of the boys could hang it on the wall so Cedric and Joseph would be included in their family dinners no matter how far away they were. She wrote on the back of the small photos the words she’d been perfecting for days:

  Take my love and the Lord’s blessing

  with you wherever you go—for they

  are unwavering.

  And come home soon.

  Your Ma

  PS. Do not equate kindness

  with weakness.

  She slipped a photo in each Bible, placed one on each of their pillows, and went into the kitchen to cook the last supper she could be certain they would share. She forced herself to take slow, steady breaths. The pain in her chest was only going to become worse. Tomorrow she would be forced to bear a new and greater burden of fear and sorrow.

  Willie, Maggie, Cedric, and Joseph were already out the front door, ready to leave for the train station. Naomi fled upstairs, her heart racing in panic.

  “You have to go without me,” she told her mother.

  Gramma Jordan argued, “Naomi, you have to be there.”

  “I can’t; I will break down on that platform.”

  “You will hold my hand and squeeze as hard as you must, but your sons will see your face as they depart from home.”

  “I don’t—”

  Gramma Jordan interrupted. “You will regret it for the rest of your life if you are not there. You may have your breakdown once we return home.”

  Naomi considered her mother’s words. Regret. If they never returned she’d know she missed her last minutes to be with her sons. She nodded and walked out the door of her mother’s flat.

  Cedric and Joseph looked handsome and mature in their uniforms, but still too young to be heading to war.

  “You have your Bibles?” Naomi asked.

  The boys, young men, nodded in unison. Joseph slid his finger into his breast pocket and pulled the top of it for her to see.

  Cedric looked her in the eyes and said, “It’s right here, Ma. Right over my heart.”

  Naomi swallowed hard and gave him a tight smile, grateful that her love and the Lord’s words would be right there with him.

  There was nothing else to say on the long journey to the train station. Maggie sat on one side, their arms linked. As promised Gramma Jordan held her other hand. Every once in a while Willie looked at her, nodding his assurance and respect. He saw her pain. But she was pushing past her despair, sending her sons off in love.

  The station was packed with colored faces, young men in uniforms surrounded by family of all ages and hues. The men would go to Chicago and disperse for their training to Camp Funston in Kansas, Camp Logan in Texas, or elsewhere. The boys, carrying identical duffel bags and similar uniforms, had become soldiers, no longer individuals.

  The four of them made a circle around Joseph and Cedric. They each placed a hand on the young men. Naomi breathed in the warmth and energy of her beloved sons, and breathed out love into each of them.

  Willie’s voice was low but clear as he prayed:

  “Dear Lord, watch over our precious sons. Keep them safe from enemies foreign and domestic. Help them to always have honor and dignity. Return them to us strong in body and spirit. In your name we pray. Amen.”

  Naomi’s amen was in her head, her throat too tight to say a word. She hugged Cedric, then placed her hand on his cheek like he was a boy. Bless you, she mouthed. I love you. He stared right into her eyes, his sorrow matching hers.

  “I love you too, Ma. Always. I’ll be home before you know it.” And then he moved on.

  Joseph said, “Bye, Ma. I love you too!”

  They hugged. He broke away, ready to go, looking more excited than was wise given what he was about to face. She held onto his arm.

  He hadn’t been on his own in the world or experienced the overt hatred that could cost him his life. She stared into his eyes, searching for words to keep her youngest son safe.

  He interpreted her silence. “I will, Ma.” His eyes shiny, he continued, “I’ll think of you every day and ask myself what will make you and Pops proud.”

  And then both her sons were gone. Maggie remained on her right. Gramma Jordan on her left. Willie’s hands rested on her shoulders, his cheek nestled against her head. Her remaining family a fortress around her, keeping her upright.

  She searched the windows of the train. Surely Cedric and Joseph would join the boys waving out the portals. Up and down the cars she studied the young faces. Excitement was the overriding expression, though she saw sorrow too. Would she recognize her own sons now that they were made into soldiers? What if they were too far from each other for her to see them both?

  Her heart raced and she swallowed against the boulder in her throat.

  “There’s Joseph!” Maggie pointed to the left toward the front of the train. Naomi hunted until she found him. His big smile lit up his face as he frantically waved. She raised her hand back in farewell. The train jerked. It was starting to go.

  “Cedric?!” she exclaimed.

  Shouts filled the air. It was so loud she could not hear Maggie right next to her. Naomi searched up and down the train while she continued waving, desperately wanting Cedric to see her wishing him goodbye. When she looked back at Joseph he was already gone. She scanned further down the track but could not make him out. She stared as the windows slowly moved past her, waving at the mass of boys, hoping to make out Cedric’s face.

  “Ceddie!” Maggie screamed.

  There! Peeking out between the waving arms of his comrades were her son’s sweet, brown eyes. She teared up and mouthed, God bless you. His eyes crinkled. Message received. She exhaled and watched his face disappear from sight like a leaf floating down a river.

  “You can let it out now,” Gramma Jordan said once they were home.

  But somehow the fear and anger were so large Naomi didn’t have tears. The wall she put up around her heart held fast. She shook her head.

  “Shall we work in the garden?”

  Naomi considered. Her spirit was exhausted; she longed to lie down, but she thought better of it and nodded at her mother. Taking to bed was not going to bring her sons back.

  They were weeding around the tomatoes when Maggie shouted from the back porch. Mr. Butler was calling for her on Mr. Washington’s phone.

  Naomi exchanged a confused glance with her mother and walked down the block alone. It was foolish to fear there could possibly be bad news about her sons only a few hours after they’d departed, but still she pictured a derailed train or an outbreak of scarlet fever.

  Mr. Butler’s voice came through the line. “I wanted you to know about our success on this challenging day.”

  Naomi nodded, relief rushing through her.

  “Father Wallace got a stay on the vote at the city council meeting,” the man’s deep voice declared. “Your home is safe.”

  Puzzled, Naomi thought until she remembered what he was speaking about. The Santa Fe Improvement Club’s resolution on segregation was on the council agenda today. It was a pressing issue in her heart, but concern for her sons and their departure overshadowed it so entirely that she forgot this was the day they were taking up the question.

  She replied, “Thank the Lord. That is wonderful. I appreciate you calling to let me know.”

  He continued, “Thank you and congratulations. Your good work is paying off.”

  “Our good work,” she replied. “Please give him my gratitude.”

  “I will indeed,” Mr. Butler replied. “See you at our next meeting if not before. Mrs. Tilghman wants us to take up supporting the colored troops as a regular agenda item.”

  “I agree,” Naomi said. “We have to see that they are treated with dignity and respect—in Oakland as well as afar.”

  Naomi stopped in front of their house for a moment of gratitude. Thank you, Lord, for protecting our home. It would be here to welcome her Cedric and her Joseph when they returned. She went inside and into the dining room to the family photo.

  She stood at the image, her palms out in a blessing, one directed at Joseph’s precious face and the other at Cedric’s. Naomi closed her eyes and prayed hard:

  Dear Lord, watch over my sons. Place my love directly into their hearts that they may know their mother is praying for them and waiting for their safe return. Amen.

  She opened her eyes and looked at their images—so grown up and yet somehow her babies too.

  Her knees gave out and she let herself sink to the floor. Fear and sorrow exploded the wall in her chest and she let her tears flow. There was nothing she could do to protect her sons but pray.