House Wrecking Page 10

  A week later, she told Charles that she was worried about how Andrew was faring amidst Peter’s apoplexy and asked him to help her find Andrew’s New Haven address. He produced the address the next day and offered to accompany Sarah downtown. Of course, Sarah could not have Charles tagging along. She told him a detailed tale featuring visits to the local shops on her way there and back, which pleased him sufficiently to drop the issue.

  The next day, Sarah donned her plumb-colored dress that brought out the red highlights in her chestnut hair and contrasted with her flawless skin. She struggled to corset her abdomen that had seemed to double in size since she’d last worn a corset. She needed to call Mary, who followed her instructions to pull it tighter without a word of admonishment. She fastened a ruby choker around her neck. The electric streetcar had started in New Haven, but the service was limited and she set out on foot. She followed Chapel street through downtown, passing a number of shops which would have interested her, had her mind not been set on loftier ideals.

  She walked through town to Wooster Square, arriving at the brownstone building bearing Andrew’s number. Despite the graciousness of the homes around the square, Andrew’s brownstone was shabby and in disrepair. The paint was peeling around the porch and the balusters were missing in a number of areas. There was no name on the front door. Sarah checked the address again - she was in the right place. She lifted the heavy brass knocker against the door two times, noticing it left a rusty smudge on her hand. She reached into her bag for a kerchief to wipe it and the door opened to a scantily clad and barefoot young woman with stringy blonde hair hanging around her bare shoulders. The woman wore a long skirt with a cotton camisole on top, appearing as if she’d dressed hastily to answer the door. “Yeah?” the woman croaked. “What do you want?”

  Sarah would have laughed at the woman’s untoward appearance and rudeness, had she not been alone in a strange neighborhood in a strange town and at the woman’s mercy. “I’m sorry to disturb you. I’m looking for my brother, Andrew Prescott. Perhaps I have the wrong address?” Sarah answered, putting all her Prescott airs on display.

  The girl looked her at her for a few more seconds before she called over her shoulder in a loud voice. “Andayyyy…. You gots a visitah.” She remained standing, not inviting Sarah in.

  The two women faced each other until Andrew emerged, his head above the girl’s. Like the young woman, Andrew who was also scantily clad in bare feet, straightened his britches over his yellowed undershirt. “Sarah, What are you doing here? Annie should have invited you inside, come in, come in.” He took her hand and pulled her through the grimy door in front of Annie.

  Andrew led her into a dirty sitting room to the right of the door. He cleared a stack of papers off one of the chairs and gestured for Sarah to sit, doing the same in an opposite chair. He didn’t clear a chair for Annie, who trailed behind them into the sitting room. Annie resumed her doorframe-leaning position; this time at the threshold of the sitting room.

  “I was worried about you after I received your letter about Mother.” Sarah shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden chair.

  “Annie, be a love and get us tea, will ya?” Andrew barked, sending Annie’s eyes rolling to the ceiling. Andrew returned his attention to Sarah. “How kind - albeit uncharacteristic of you to worry about me, Sis. Thank you. I am well. I’m busy sorting out exams and parental estates. Mother’s in a state,” he gushed on, his smile revealing more drama than sadness.

  Annie returned with a tray of tea and crumbling biscuits that Sarah had no intention of eating. She’d arranged a jacket over her camisole. She plopped the tray down on the cluttered table between the siblings and settled onto the arm of Andrew’s chair. Andrew ignored Annie and poured a cup of tea for Sarah, which she declined.

  “I wanted to ask...,” Sarah trailed. She’d rehearsed her words repeatedly, but now she hesitated before trying again. “I understand from your letter that Father left you in charge of the care of Mother and me….”

  Andrew interrupted her. “Mother, yes, but since you are a married woman, you are in the care of your husband now.”

  Sensing danger to her imagined estate, Sarah plunged forward. “Actually, Andrew, things are not well in my marriage and I would like my share of Father’s money to leave New Haven. Perhaps travel with my old friend Kate – remember her? We were thinking of Europe, or perhaps South America.”

  “Ooh, Europe or South America, how lovely… and how does husband Charles feel about this plan? I am assuming he’s uninvited?” Andrew mocked.

  Sarah hesitated. “As I said Andrew, things with Charles and me are not well. He doesn’t know about this and I would ask you to keep it confidential…”

  Andrew interrupted her again. “I won’t speak to Mr. shop-keep of this and neither will you. Go home and be a wife to your husband, Sarah. I’ve got bills to pay and a life to live here without supporting my sister’s continual escapes around the world in search of the happiness that is right under your own nose. You’ve always been a spoiled, selfish little thing. Mother and Father may have tolerated it, but not me. You made your bed Sarah, now it’s time to lay in it.” He rose and led her to the door. Annie gathered the tea tray, smiling at Andrew as if they shared a special secret.

  Sarah seemed to shrink further inside herself with every step back to Westville. She didn’t bother to hold her shoulders high as Alice always nagged her to do. When she got home, she took to her bed and remained rooted. Except for ordering heavy green velvet room-darkening drapes from a neighboring seamstress to envelope her in darkness, she had nothing to draw her out but a letter from Kate. Her old friend had heard of Peter’s illness and conveyed her sympathies, agreeing to come on her next break from Oberlin and spend a few days.

  Middle of the End

  Lauren pulled to the curb beside her house and parked on the street. Jeff’s new boat blocked one side of the driveway and his car was on the other side. They hadn’t discussed the boat purchase; he’d done it without consulting her. She slammed the car door and steered toward the rear of the house spying a package out of place along the rarely used side porch. Probably a new postman Lauren concluded, climbing the stairs to retrieve it. The rain falling from the trees dulled the sound of her steps and gave a theatrical feel to the sight of Jeff sitting in his desk chair on the other side of the glass door. In front of him leaning back on the desk, inches away was Rachel. He was looking into Rachel’s eyes as if she was the only woman on earth.

  Jeff must have sensed Lauren’s presence on the porch and turned to meet her eyes. They stared at each other for a moment before Lauren fled the porch and ran back to the car. Jeff lost time trying to unstick the rarely used porch door before dashing out. By the time he arrived, Lauren was already in the driver’s seat and jamming the car into gear. She rolled down the window on the front passenger side. “Get the kids from school and give them dinner. I don’t know when I’ll be back.” She screeched away from the curb.

  Lauren reached the corner, but didn’t know which way to turn. She directed the car left onto Whalley Avenue and followed the long street downtown, annoyed at the many traffic lights preventing her progress. She had no destination. Without knowing how she got there, she ended up in East Rock Park. She negotiated her car into one of the many open spaces and sat staring out the window at a group of children parading onto their school bus, chaperoned by too many parents and instructors. One of the students, a chubby girl, sat down on the Asphalt and refused to move. A series of head nods among the adults negotiated the rest of the children onto the bus, leaving two remaining adults around the young girl. They sat on either side of the chubby girl until they each gathered one of the girl’s hands and joined the rest on the bus. Well done, Lauren acknowledged. She waited until the bus pulled away, grabbing a few old Dunkin Donuts napkins from the console before getting out of the car.

  Lauren walked by the greenhouses and gardens, all but abandoned during this time of the year. She’d been to the park
before with Brian’s class on a field trip and she’d found it beautiful. She wondered why she hadn’t come here more often to picnic with the kids, or enjoy the evening theatre series during the summer. She wiped the wet seat of a park bench with the Dunkin Donuts napkins and settled in with a perfect view of the carriage house and gardens. There was once a Victorian house on the property; similar to her own house – the house in which her husband was in love with another woman.

  Perhaps she was getting ahead of herself. What had she seen, after all? Jeff was looking at Rachel – that’s it. Only she knew there was more to what she’d experienced. Jeff was looking at Rachel, like he used to look at her.

  With nothing further to distract her than the peace and tranquility of the park, Lauren’s thoughts and feelings swirled around in her head, crashing into each other and gathering in her belly. Anger predominated among all – anger at Jeff’s time away from the house and kids, leaving her with the entire load of caring for them. Anger at the guilt she felt for not devoting enough time and attention to their marriage, all the while he was with Rachel. She wondered how much of their money he’d spent on her – money they needed for things for the house and children. How many of the problems in his practice were related to his relationship with Rachel? How many of the troubles in their marriage were because of Rachel?

  As Lauren brought these questions forward, the answers, which had been lying at the edges of her consciousness for years, were revealed. She wanted to blame Rachel for the problems in their marriage, but she couldn’t. Rachel was a symptom of their problems – not the cause. It may be a bad choice on Jeff’s part – a disloyal, immature and reckless choice. But, would Jeff have engaged in a relationship with Rachel had their marriage not become so loveless?

  Lauren gathered the saturated Dunkin Donuts napkins and headed back to the car. Sorrow seemed to fill the mugginess trapped inside the closed space – sadness for something lost and not coming back. What she’d seen had the ability to escalate the end of their long-failing marriage. While she had the power to stop it, she knew she wouldn’t. She peeked at the clock on the dash - 3:38 PM. She couldn’t face Jeff and the kids right now and pulled out of the park onto Whitney Avenue and away from the city.

  At Bev’s Antiques, her mother sat behind the desk at the rear of the shop. Lauren’s eyes filled with tears when Beverly rose from her seat to meet her halfway.

  “Honey, what is it? What happened?”

  Lauren’s face swelled and the tears released down her cheeks. Ten minutes and a glass of water later, she managed to get out what she’d seen. “He, he, he seemed to be in love with her.”

  Beverly sat in the chair next to Lauren, nodding in agreement at her observations and offering a few, “oh boys”, “oohs.” When the story and the tears were both done, Beverly suggested they head to Delaney’s to drown their sorrows in chardonnay.

  Kate

  Charles collected Kate from the New Haven train station and brought her home. She sashayed into their home with the energy and enthusiasm of a beautiful young woman poised at the beginning of a wonderful adult life, but Sarah took Kate’s presence as a personal insult. She came to the parlor for tea with them, but moments later announced that she was ill and needed to lie down. She failed to arrive for dinner that evening and Charles was left entertaining Kate by himself, a task he was unprepared for, but warmed to amidst her charm, intelligence and humor. The two old friends stayed up late reminiscing and discussing their plans for the future. Charles had asked Mary to prepare his bed for their guest, and settled himself on the sofa for the night.

  The next morning, Sarah failed to show for breakfast. Charles left Kate alone in the dining room to find Sarah. He knocked at the door, but received no response. He opened it and entered. Despite the full sunshine outside, the room was steeped in darkness from the heavy drapes she had installed days ago; he could barely make out her form under the blankets. “Sarah?” Charles asked. Again, receiving no response, he crossed the room and sat on her bed. “Sarah, you need to get dressed and come downstairs. Your friend Kate came to visit you and you’re being rude.”

  Sarah whirled around into a sitting position startling Charles. “Rude?” she shouted at him. “She’s the rude one, coming here and boring us with all her stories of college and her stupid laugh. I can’t stand her for one more minute. And you… hanging on her every word like she was the most beautiful girl in the world. Have you forgotten that you have a wife in this house? The two of you make me sick!”

  “Sarah! You have it all wrong. Kate’s here to cheer you and she was trying to do that. Please don’t hold her stories and laughter against her. As for Kate and me, she’s an old pal, nothing more.” Charles said, sitting at the edge of the bed, he placed a hand on her leg.

  Sarah was no longer listening. She had twisted back into a lying position, turning her back to Charles. He sat for a minute longer until she craned her neck in his direction to screech a final command. “Get out! And get her out of my house!” Before pulling the covers back over her head.

  The End

  When Beverly dropped Lauren at home after nine, Lauren found her bed empty. She kissed each of the children tucked safely in their beds, and awoke the next day with a horrible wine hangover. She showered, woke the kids and went downstairs to make breakfast. Jeff was already in the kitchen bustling around. They ignored each other while tending to the children. With the kids consuming their cereal, Lauren brushed by Jeff to go upstairs and finish her hair and make-up.

  Jeff caught her arm. “We need to talk.”

  She shook her arm loose from his hand. “Not now.”

  “Dinner tonight,” he commanded.

  “I was out late last night; I need to be with the kids tonight.” She continued toward the stairs.

  “Oh for God sakes Lauren, the kids are fine. It can’t wait,”

  “Fine, I’ll ask my mother if she can watch them.”

  “Be ready by seven.” He turned his back to her and went back to the breakfast routine. He brought out the lunch boxes before she flew upstairs.

  Throughout the day, Lauren’s thoughts kept returning to the look on Jeff’s face as he looked at Rachel the prior day. Her patients rambled through various complaints while her mind wandered to what she’d seen, what he would say. The spectrum of ideas ranged from a big misunderstanding to a maniacal plot against her and everything in between. Each scenario ended with the question of what she would do now. She couldn’t shake the thought that a gift had been dropped into her lap, presenting her with a way out of her marriage – a marriage she’d longed to leave, but couldn’t for guilt and lack of courage.

  They went to Scoozi's for dinner. It was an old favorite they frequented for fine, contemporary Italian food, expert service and a quiet table. They settled into the rounded booth in the rear. Lauren ordered a Pinot Grigio and Jeff a martini and they busied themselves with the menus.

  With food ordered and drinks before them, Jeff began. “I know these words will fall short of what’s needed here, but I’m really sorry you had to see that.”

  Lauren nodded.

  “It’s just that things have gotten so rotten between you and me lately.”

  “How long?” Lauren asked.

  “How long, what?” Jeff answered back, appearing confused

  “Don’t be stupid, Jeff. You know what I’m talking about. How long have you been fucking her?”

  Jeff quieted his voice. “I’m not Lauren.”

  “Did she go to Washington with you in December? Has she gone on all the business trips I couldn’t go on because I was home raising our children?”

  Jeff took a deep breath. Jeff hesitated. “Yes, she came with me to Washington, but nothing happened.”

  “But you wanted something to happen?”

  Listen, I know my feelings for her were wrong. I let her go from the office once last winter, but with things so awful between us...”

  “Yes, well,” Lauren interrupted dripping with sarcas
m. “Who could blame you for seeking refuge with her when you didn’t get what you wanted at home?”

  Jeff tried to speak, but the breadstick he was snacking on got stuck in his throat, causing him to cough. The server rushed over to refill his water glass. After several gulps, he tried again. “I didn’t mean…. I’m sorry Lauren, I’ll let her go tomorrow, I promise.”

  Lauren stayed silent.

  “Come on, Lauren, you can’t tell me that you’ve never been attracted to another man, in all the years we’ve been married.

  “No Jeff, I don’t think about other men. I’m too busy working and taking care of you and our children.”

  Their server brought them their respective pasta bowls and set them in front of them.

  When he server left, Jeff focused his attention on his gnocchi . Without lifting his eyes, he asked, “I guess the only question left is, have you ever been attracted to me?”

  Lauren looked up from her own pasta bowl drawing his eyes toward hers. Her anger abated momentarily and she wanted only to comfort him as she delivered the truth. “I don’t know, Jeff. I just don’t know.”

  Fourteen Years Later

  Charles studied the table, the few chairs and the hutch. There was nothing decorative to draw his attention to the walls or the floor. He’d positioned the pieces from Aunt Rosemary’s home fourteen years earlier and they’d never acquired another furniture item or home accessory. He remembered with regret how Sarah had wanted to purchase all new furniture and how he’d worried over the cost. Maybe if he’d indulged her more in those years... Charles wrestled himself away from his painful reverie and returned his attention to his daughter.