"Where your diamonds?" Beloved searched Sethe's face.
"Diamonds? What would I be doing with diamonds?"
"On your ears."
"Wish I did. I had some crystal once. A present from a lady I worked for."
"Tell me," said Beloved, smiling a wide happy smile. "Tell me your diamonds."
It became a way to feed her. Just as Denver discovered and relied on the delightful effect sweetthings had on Beloved, Sethe learned the profound satisfaction Beloved got from storytelling. Itamazed Sethe (as much as it pleased Beloved) because every mention of her past life hurt.
Everything in it was painful or lost. She and Baby Suggs had agreed without saying so that it wasunspeakable; to Denver's inquiries Sethe gave short replies or rambling incomplete reveries. Evenwith Paul D, who had shared some of it and to whom she could talk with at least a measure ofcalm, the hurt was always there-like a tender place in the corner of her mouth that the bit left.
But,as she began telling about the earrings, she found herself wanting to, liking it. Perhaps it wasBeloved's distance from the events itself, or her thirst for hearing it — in any case it was anunexpected pleasure.
Above the patter of the pea sorting and the sharp odor of cooking rutabaga, Sethe explained thecrystal that once hung from her ears.
"That lady I worked for in Kentucky gave them to me when Igot married. What they called married hack there and back then. I guess she saw how bad I feltwhen I found out there wasn't going to be no ceremony, no preacher. Nothing. I thought thereshould be something — something to say it was right and true. I didn't want it to be just memoving over a bit of pallet full of corn husks. Or just me bringing my night bucket into his cabin. I thought there should be some ceremony. Dancing maybe. A little sweet william in my hair." Sethesmiled. "I never saw a wedding, but I saw Mrs. Garner's wedding gown in the press, and heard hergo on about what it was like. Two pounds of currants in the cake, she said, and four whole sheep.
The people were still eating the next day. That's what I wanted. A meal maybe, where me andHalle and all the Sweet Home men sat down and ate something special. Invite some of the othercolored people from over by Covington or High Trees — those places Sixo used to sneak off to.
But it wasn't going to be nothing. They said it was all right for us to be husband and wife and thatwas it. All of it.