Pauline chatted for a while about her plans for a nursery, but then abruptly changed topics, leaning across the table toward Anna.

“People are talking about you and the colored boy, honey,” she said quietly. “You need to be careful.”

“Pauline!” Anna was stunned. She felt sorely disappointed. “First of all, I consider Jesse an art student who has also become a friend.” She remembered telling Jesse about her mother. How he’d listened. How he’d truly heard her. “And second,” she said, “I don’t care what people say.”

“Well, you should care,” Pauline said. “Karl told me how someone painted”—she leaned forward to whisper—“those words on the warehouse.”

“That was weeks ago. Nothing’s happened since then. Probably just some hoodlums out causing trouble. I don’t want to live my life in fear.”

“It’s different here than where you came from.” Pauline’s voice was quiet but earnest. Her dark blue eyes held such grave concern that Anna felt taken aback. She could tell that her friend was sincerely worried about her.

She let out a long sigh. “People keep telling me that,” she said. “But I can’t change who I am, and I think you’re silly to worry. I’m five years older than Jesse, for heaven’s sake. I adore him like a little brother. He may not look like a kid, but he is a kid and he acts like one.” She sat up very straight. “I plan to continue ignoring such catty talk.”

“Your intentions may be pure,” Pauline said, “and his may be pure. But it doesn’t matter. People still believe what they want to believe and you’re only inviting their criticism.” She cut a corner of her slice of cheese and lifted it to her lips without taking a bite. “And it can get worse, dear.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s against the law. Colored and white … you know.”

Anna laughed. “You have nothing to worry about there,” she said. “I have no interest in—”

“That may be the truth.” Pauline set down her fork without eating the cheese. “But it’s not what people believe, and that’s what matters.”

“No, Pauline, what matters is the reality,” Anna said, getting angry now. At the sound of her raised voice, a few people turned to look at them. “I don’t care what people think.” She leaned closer. “Can we close this subject please? Let’s talk about your baby again. Have you thought about names?”

Baby names were definitely the topic of conversation over dinner that evening. Even Karl seemed to have an excited glow about him, only letting go of Pauline’s hand when he needed his own to eat the chicken and dumplings Freda had made. They talked about names for most of an hour before Karl politely changed the subject, asking Anna how the mural was coming along.