But the silence of their work seemed to unnerve Mr. Ben, and any time the house began to quiet down, to start the rhythms of women working, he was compelled to speak and break it.

“Does every woman in New York make a biscuit as dry as this?” he said as he reached for his third one that morning.

Mama was only half listening.

“If my woman, Daisy, was still here,” Mr. Ben said, “she’d learn you. Even you, Miss Doctor. Whoever heard of a woman knowing how to make a pill but not a biscuit? It’s not natural. Daisy would learn you, though, if she was still with us. She was sweet like that. She was the type to learn you if you asked.”

Lenore looked up sharply. “Mr. Ben, you’re bothering the doctor.”

And Mr. Ben said, “She can nurse and listen at the same time, can’t she?”

A few moments’ silence. Then.

“Miss Doctor, this tea is weak,” he said.

No answer this time from Mama or Lenore, who had pointedly decided to ignore him.

“Miss Doctor,” he tried again, “why don’t you ever put on new ribbons? My Daisy always tried to make herself pretty, and she wasn’t half as rich or important as you. But she knew how to make herself look nice. If you thought of looking nice, then maybe you’d find a man to come here and live with you. You’re not too old for all that, Miss Doctor.”

At that point, Lenore moved as if she would show him the door, but Mama held up her hand to stay her. She took a deep breath, and then she turned, a tight smile on her face.

“Mr. Ben, I do believe you have not seen the rest of our town. Libertie, take Mr. Ben for a walk.”

“Mama …”

“You said you wanted to be of service in our work. Well, be of service,” Mama said.

So I took Mr. Ben’s hand in my own and led him out into the afternoon sun. When I went back for my cloak, I overheard Mama and Lenore.

“Honestly, it’s a wonder how that Daisy woman got with him in the first place,” Lenore said, and Mama laughed outright. “When will he leave?”

“His sister will be here soon.”

“It’s too much, Doctor.”

“We can bear it,” Mama said.

I took my coat and left.

We were the sole house on the way to town—Grandfather had cleared the brush himself and tried to sell the lots along it to other colored men, but most men, if they were buying, wanted to live closer to the school and the church. Because we were the only family on that road, and had the privilege of naming it after ourselves.

“Sampson Lane,” I told Mr. Ben proudly.

He nodded. He looked above us, where the tree canopy stretched, through which we could see the white sky of spring.