House Wrecking Page 18

  Lauren and Beverly continued to look on in silence, urging the young nurse to go on.

  “It’s a long tale, and I have a few more residents to finish before my shift ends in a half an hour. Can you wait for me in the family lounge off the front lobby?”

  “Yes, of course, they both murmured again.

  “Enid met them in the family room twenty minutes later. When they were seated together at the end of the lounge, she began. “They were good friends, Miss Dorothy and her friend Emily. They’d met at Malley’s department store where they both worked during the war. I think she may’ve told you this part of the story, right?” Enid began.

  “Yes, she told me.” Lauren said

  “She didn’t tell me anything. Please tell me everything.” Beverly said in an uncharacteristically bitter voice.

  “Yes, I understand and I will tell you everything Miss Dorothy told me - I promised her I would do. As I was saying, they met at the store and their friendship grew. Perhaps it was their loneliness. Miss Dorothy’s husband was also away at war, and Emily had befriended her young tenant who lived in the apartment on the first floor of her house who was away at war. Shortly before he left, Emily got pregnant. She still lived with her elderly mother, who was a mental case it seems, and she couldn’t tell her she was pregnant.”

  Lauren and Beverly listened with rapt attention and Enid continued.

  “She came to Miss Dorothy one evening after work and asked her if she could take care of her baby. It was supposed to be a temporary arrangement until Sarah passed away or her friend Steven came home from the war and married her. Emily had agreed to pay Miss Dorothy for taking care of the baby. At the beginning Emily would come over to Nash Street and visit with the baby and give her money. It wasn’t much, but enough to keep her in food and diapers. But then the visits slowed down and along with it the money. Several years went by before they heard from Emily again.”

  Enid paused long enough for Beverly to get a tissue. When Beverly returned to the room, blew her nose and wiped the tears from her eyes, Enid to continued.

  “By this time, Dorothy’s husband was back from the war and the baby, Beverly was now five years old and a full-fledged member of their family. One March day, her children came home from the park and reported a woman there watching them. Miss Dorothy knew it was Emily, by the description and panicked. She kept the kids indoors after that. The children were scared, they didn’t know what was going on.

  Beverly’s tears began to stream down her face. Lauren held onto Beverly’s hand.

  “You see, Miss Dorothy and her husband and the children had grown to love you as their own and they couldn’t give you back. They packed up the whole family to Seymour the next week, leaving no return address.”

  When she’d finished and Beverly collected herself, they thanked Enid for taking the time to share this story. When she was gone, Lauren and Beverly sat in silence for a few minutes until Lauren got up and led Beverly out of the nursing home and to the car.

  Once they’d pulled onto route 63, Lauren tried to break the silence. “Well Mom, it sure must be nice to be well-loved. You had two mom’s fighting over you.”

  Lauren could feel Beverly’s eyes on her, but she said nothing and returned her gaze out the passenger side window.

  A few minutes later, Lauren tried a different approach. “Well, at least you now know about your parents.”

  Lauren thought she might’ve seen a glare in her direction before Beverly returned her eyes to the window. In the silence that persisted through their trip to Beverly’s home in Seymour, the insensitivity in this remark revealed itself to Lauren leaving a pit in her stomach where she should’ve swallowed those words.

  When they arrived at Beverly’s home, she got out of the car without another word.

  Malleys

  Emily hustled through the wide corridor between the bird cage and the restaurant, eager to get to the men’s furnishings department before Mr. Lima realized she was tardy, again. She clopped along at a brisk pace in her practical shoes and long brown skirt that hid the latest ladders in her last pair of stockings. Dorothy smiled when she saw Emily approach.

  “Well hello dear,” Dorothy greeted her with a broad grin.

  Emily dispensed with the formalities. “I’m sorry I’m late again –my mother …. Has he noticed?”

  “Not to worry, dear. He descended a few minutes ago. I told him you were off to the ladies and whispered ‘feminine business’. He took off like a shot, you should’ve seen it,” Dorothy said. She brushed a loose blond hair from her forehead and returned to sorting her ties.

  Relieved, Emily took off her scarf and coat. “I’ll tuck these in back and be right out. Thank you for covering for me.” Emily brushed past her friend, giving her a grateful rub on the arm on her way out.

  “No thanks are necessary, I am sure you will do the same for me one day. In any event, we are hardly swamped.” Dorothy swept her hand across the vacant department store before returning to the task at hand.

  Emily hurriedly stowed her light coat, scarf and bag in the back room. She returned, making a show of tidying the ties which were already perfectly in line, thanks to her pal Dorothy. While frightening Mr. Lima off with feminine talk was a tried and true technique perfected over the past few months, it had a brief effect and he was likely to be back and making sure they were not idle.

  “How are you getting on Dorothy? Are you fairing alright with Bill gone?” Emily asked.

  “I’m hanging in there. I do miss the old coot. I can’t believe the army took him at 35 years old.” She laughed. “He seems to be having a good time of it. I got a letter from him yesterday with money to keep us going, bless his heart.” Dorothy exuded a fondness for her husband that Emily envied.

  “Well if he can get his hands on any stockings, tell him to send along an extra pair for me with his next letter. Take a look at these.” She lifted her skirt to reveal the gigantic ladder running from below her knee up her leg.

  Dorothy laughed uproariously. “Those are wonderful. I believe I may have a matching pair on, but am too embarrassed to show.” The ladies let the joke linger between them a few minutes, and continued the work of unfolding and refolding the ties in companionable silence to demonstrate a show of activity. “How is your friend Steven, by the way? Have you heard anything from him?” Dorothy asked.

  “No. Nothing since he left a few weeks ago. I suppose I’ll hear something soon.” She trailed off, her throat and eyes prickling with the threat of tears.

  “Yes, dear, of course you will,” Dorothy assured Emily.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to get emotional. My mother has my head like scrambled eggs today. Honestly, was your mother as overly obsessed with her bowels as mine? Emily asked without pausing for a response. “If she doesn’t move her bowels every day, she takes all manner of concoctions, and the next day all hell breaks loose. And of course her arthritis got the better of her years ago, and she can’t walk to the bathroom - you can imagine the mess!”

  “I’d rather not, thank you.” Dorothy laughed. “I wiped the bottoms of my four children many times over the years before they were toilet-trained and am well-familiar with the plight.”

  Mr. Lima reappeared to complete the rounds he’d begun earlier. He eyed Emily carefully. “These neck ties look fine girls. I’ve a new shipment of dress shirts. Let’s get them ready for the men when they return from war, shall we?” He announced ordering them to follow him back to the storeroom.

  Both girls smirked behind his back, doubting that anyone would be returning from war before the shirts yellowed, but they followed him anyway.

  At the end of their shift, Emily asked “Dorothy, I was wondering if you might be able to join me for a quick cup of tea after our shift is over later tomorrow.”

  “I would love to, but I leave the children home alone too much; I would feel guilty spending any more time away from them than I have to.” Dorothy said.

  “Oh, of course, I und
erstand.”

  “Is everything alright, dear?” She asked.

  “Yes. Well no. I could use a friend to talk to.”

  “Why don’t you come for dinner tonight? I’ll feed the kids early and make us a nice dinner.”

  “Perfect!” Emily smiled.

  After work, Emily rushed home to take care of Sarah, still holding out a final hope that Sarah would be dead upon arrival and spare her the intended conversation she planned to have with Dorothy. It was June 21st, the longest day of the year and Emily couldn’t wait for it to be over so the days would begin to get shorter and pass quicker. The sun was still high in the sky when she stepped off the trolley and Emily took off her sweater to mount the steep hill toward her house.

  The faint sounds of Sarah crying, grew louder as Emily approached the house. She silently praised herself for the decision to keep the windows closed. She didn’t need any of the new, nosy neighbors, who continued to spring up around her once private house, to hear Sarah and call the police. Busting down the door and finding Sarah in a state, they would cart her off to God knows where. But then Emily reconsidered whether this was exactly what she needed. She unlocked the front door and made a mental note to consider leaving the window open the next day. Fortunately, she found Sarah in a slightly improved situation over the previous day. She got her cleaned and fed, earning more complaints for the toasted cheese she offered.

  “Emily after all those years with darling Mary, did you not learn how to make anything besides a sandwich?” Sarah said.

  He Called

  Lauren wandered into her kitchen and glanced up at the clock, saying a silent thank you that it was almost five o’clock. She still wasn’t used to the silence of the big place with the kids at Jeff’s house until tomorrow. Maybe she never would be. She pressed the button on the answering machine on her way to the refrigerator and poured herself a substantial glass of Chablis. She smiled to herself, allowing Ben’s voice to fill the space around her.

  “Hey Lauren, Ben here. I wanted to let you know I really enjoyed meeting you last night and hunting for treasure in your basement. It was also nice to talk afterward and get to know you. And um… Well, I was thinking after I left. I don’t know if you’d be interested in this. Well, my ex-wife is a curator at the Yale Art Museum. We’re still on good terms and I could ask her to come over and take a look at those paintings, you know, if you want. Well, um, anyway. Give me a call when you can.”

  Lost in her thoughts of Ben, she finished the glass of wine and poured herself another. It took her a few minutes of concentration, before she considered the content of his message. Although she’d no desire to meet Ben’s ex-wife, it was a kind offer and she wanted to respond. She needed to find out first whether the contents of the room were hers. She flipped through her address book nestled next to the phone and found Attorney Kelsey’s number.

  She was planning to leave him a message to call her back on Monday or Tuesday and was surprised when a man’s voice answered the phone.

  “Hello.”

  “Umm, hello, Jack?

  “Yup.”

  “Oh. This is Lauren. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to answer your office phone, especially on a Saturday night.”

  “Hey Lauren; I’m here catching up on paperwork. How are ya? I’m glad you called though. I got good news for Jeff in the mail yesterday and was going to call you. The state dismissed the action on Jeff’s license with a warning.”

  “That’s great news. Thank you. So, he’ll be able to continue practicing without any problems?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fantastic – I’ll let him know.”

  “What can I do for you on this fine summer evening when we should both be out doing far better things?”

  “Well, I found something. Actually, I found a lot of something’s… A friend and I were hunting around in the basement of my house yesterday and came upon a hidden room. It hadn’t been opened since the twenties.”

  “Wow.”

  “That’s not the half of it. In the room, we found six oil paintings from well-known artists. They may be originals. I also found a chest full of silver and porcelain and seventy-three thousand dollars.

  “Holy shit.”

  “I know, right? In any event, I guess I wanted to know if it was mine, I mean ours, Jeff and mine or whether the estate of the former owners has any claim over it?”

  “Well, from a legal perspective, as long as nothing in there is titled or licensed to someone else, it’s yours and you are entitled to keep what is there, or do with it as you wish. But if you find out for example, that the paintings or silver were stolen, you would be legally obligated to return them to their rightful owners.”

  “It hadn’t occurred to me that they might be stolen.”

  “It’s an example. They may not have been. Of course the legal thing and the ethical thing are not always the same. Nothing prevents you from contacting the former owners of the house and asking them if they want their stuff back.”

  “Actually, the last member of the family, Emily Marvin, died in the house a few years ago, and we purchased it out of probate. Believe it or not, we found out that my mother may have actually been related to Emily. In fact, we think she was her mother.

  “No Shit?”

  “No shit!”

  “Well, I advise you to get the stuff checked out. Make sure it wasn’t stolen and get it in writing. Of course, if the stuff does end up belonging to you, it does complicate the law suit. You and Jeff are no longer a couple of poor, struggling professionals. You have seventy-three thousand dollars and perhaps valuable artwork, silver and porcelain to add to your worth.

  “Oh, I hadn’t thought about that either.”

  “That’s why I get the big bucks and are over here on Audubon Street living pretty.” Jack laughed. “Let me know what you decide to do.”

  “Will do – thanks.”

  “No problem. Have a good rest of your weekend.”

  “You too.” Lauren hung up the phone and poured herself a third glass of Chablis. She took it upstairs and into a long, cool shower. When she dragged herself out the tub, dried off and got into bed, falling into a drunken sleep before the sun went down and stayed asleep until six o’clock the next morning.

  Nash Street

  The daylight gradually shaded into evening as Emily rode the trolley downtown and walked half a mile to Dorothy’s tidy home on Nash street. She knew Dorothy’s house by her description of the children playing in front. The four kids were loudly engaged in a game of kick the can. One of the girls, who appeared to be around eight or ten, asked, “Are you mommy’s friend?” When Emily nodded, she took her hand and led her to Dorothy.

  “There you are – welcome!” Dorothy said happily to her friend at the front door. “I see you’ve met my girls. Thank for your excellent escort services, girls. You can go back outside until it’s dark.” The girls dashed off to join their brothers. “Come in, come in...”

  Emily followed Dorothy through the tiny house; a narrow center hall with a staircase and three rooms: kitchen and dining room to the right of the hall, slightly larger parlor or living room, they were calling them now. It wasn’t like her Victorian with the endless number of rambling rooms. “I love your house.” Emily remarked. “It looks new.”

  “It’s ten years old. We built it when I became pregnant with Jack - my second. With three more, we’ve outgrown this place, but we’re staying anyway. I suppose we’ll make do.” Dorothy giggled over her shoulder, leading Emily to the kitchen.

  “There’s a lot of love here.” Emily said admiringly

  “Yes – love we’ve got. I suppose you don’t need much space for that.” Dorothy agreed.

  “Oh, I brought us something.” Emily reached into her oversized purse and produced an ancient bottle of red wine. “I rescued it from the old speakeasy, we had in the basement years ago, and thought it would be perfect.”

  “You had a speakeasy in your house? How positively fabulous! I h
aven’t had a glass of wine in years. Let’s get it open and you can tell me about it.”

  Of course, neither one of them knew how to uncork the bottle, sending them into fits of laughter until they finally managed to poke the cork inside, freeing the liquid and their tongues. In congruence with her plan and fueled by the flowing wine, Emily told Dorothy everything - how Charles had died in the hurricane of 1904 on his boat, washed up the next week with the waves. Emily told Dorothy how her brother Thomas had disappeared during the storm; how everyone thought he went down with his father and how Emily thought he was still alive. She told Dorothy of her hunches and clues over the years; how she thought she saw her brother in different places and how she’d become a regular at the police station with her pleas for assistance. Emily told Dorothy about Sarah, how miserable she’d been her whole life, holed up in bed and eating, holding court with Mary and Emily when they visited, not leaving her room for the past twenty years. She told her about Mary and what a wonderful cook and friend she was to Sarah and Emily and how she died three months earlier. In defense of the negative picture Emily painted of Sarah, she told Dorothy about Sarah’s parents; how they’d also died, within months of one another. Charles and Mary said that’s what changed Sarah.

  Emily told Dorothy about Steven; how he’d comforted her when her grandfather died and the whole city tortured her with their gossip. She told Dorothy about how he’d moved in and their relationship had evolved over all these years in the same house. She told her how he loved her and wanted to marry her, but how Sarah wouldn’t approve and how she couldn’t leave her mother. She shared her misgivings about not being strong enough to defy Sarah and marry him anyway and began to cry when she told Dorothy how much she missed him and how worried she was that he would never return to her. She told Dorothy about the poison; eliciting a few laughs from her friend. Then Emily told Dorothy about her current situation and how she thought Dorothy could help.