Jefferson's Sons by Kimberly Bradley Page A

hurry.
    People opened the carriage door and helped Master Jefferson down. He laughed and clasped their hands and spoke to them. A bunch of townspeople had ridden up from Charlottesville, and Master Jefferson shook their hands too, and shook hands with the overseers. After a moment, though, he lifted his head and looked around with a deep breath, like he was drinking in the scenery. His head stopped. Beverly looked to see what he saw.
    Master Jefferson had found Mama. Mama looked at him. She didn’t smile, but her chin went up and her eyes softened. Master Jefferson held her gaze for a moment, then looked away. Then smiled.
    Joy bubbled up inside Beverly like a gurgling mountain stream. Papa was home forever. Beverly never felt so glad.

Chapter Twelve
    The End of Tranquility
    Beverly had known the first few days of Master Jefferson’s homecoming would be busy, but he hadn’t expected chaos. Master Jefferson had brought home twice the usual amount of luggage, and all of it had to be unpacked and sorted and put away. Before Uncle John and Beverly were halfway through heaving crates into the great house, another freight wagon stacked with boxes pulled up to the door. A dark-haired white man hopped down from the seat beside the driver. “Please, where is Miss Edith?” he said, with a small bow to Uncle John. “I am Monsieur Julien.”
    Uncle John acted as though white men bowed to him all the time. He nodded, slowly and politely, and said, “Sir. Come this way.”
    Beverly trailed them to the new kitchen. It was twice the size of the old one, but it was still empty except for the long table Uncle Peter had brought in from the old kitchen, and a few benches and shelves. Miss Edith and Miss Fanny turned toward the door when Uncle John walked in. They saw the white man, and their faces lit up.
    â€œMonsieur!” cried Miss Edith. She went to him and held out her hands. Beverly watched, horror-struck, as the white man kissed Miss Edith, first on one cheek, then on the other. What would Joe Fossett say?
    Now the man was kissing Miss Fanny’s cheeks. Beverly gulped. He’d never seen such a thing. The three of them started talking so fast Beverly got lost right after “How was your journey?” Uncle John looked as confused as Beverly felt.
    Finally Miss Edith seemed to notice them. “That whole wagon needs to be unpacked,” she said. “I want all the crates brought in here. As soon as you’ve done that, I’ll need you to get Joe, to measure for grates for the stew stoves. John, who’s the best man for mortar? And do we have bricks on hand, or do we need to have them made?”
    Uncle John blinked. “We’ll get the wagon,” he said. “I’ll check on the bricks. How many you need?”
    Miss Edith said something to the white man, so quick and incomprehensible Beverly thought it might be a foreign language, like Mama’s French. She listened to the man’s answer, then turned back to Uncle John. “Two walls, say twelve foot long by three foot high, and some dividing walls—say another twelve foot’s worth, maybe a little more. How many bricks is that?”
    â€œI’ll get back to you.” Uncle John pulled Beverly outside with him. He shook his head. “Phew.”
    â€œShe’s different,” Beverly said. When Miss Edith came home on vacation she didn’t boss folks around.
    â€œWoman’s learned to be a chef,” Uncle John said. “Good Lord above.”
    â€œWe gonna tell Joe and Davy about the kissing?”
    â€œNah,” Uncle John said. “I think that’s some kind of French thing.”
    Beverly looked back over his shoulder. “That man’s French?” He wondered if the man would know Mama.
    â€œSure,” said Uncle John. “That ‘Monsieur,’ that’s French for mister .”
    Monsieur Julien had trained Miss Edith for eight years in Washington.