House Wrecking Read online

  “What do you mean, you think? When was the last time you saw them?

  “I couldn’t sign for the draft, Emily. I was too old. It seemed as good a time as any to return to Bathe. But, when I got there, my wife wouldn’t let me in the door. I never saw the boys. Next thing I know, I’m picked up by the police and thrown in the clinker.”

  “What for?”

  “Before I met you, my wife Lucy and I left the boys with her mother one night and went to Spotters, a new bar. It was supposed to have good music. I didn’t like the way a guy was looking at Lucy – she was a looker.”

  Emily rolled her eyes.

  “Anyway, I went over and popped him one, right in the jaw. Old guy went down with a thud. When he hit the floor, the back of his skull cracked and that was the end of him.”

  “You killed a man?”

  “By the time they found me, they’d no witnesses left, besides Lucy. They reduced the charges to manslaughter and I did five - got out last Thursday.”

  “Did you think to tell me any of this all the time you lived here?”

  “I figured you'd throw me out,” Steven said, hanging his head.

  “You figured right. Well, I guess that explains why there were no letters.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments, before Emily rose from her seat. “Well, I’ll let you get settled.”

  “I can stay?” Steven asked, looking directly into her faded blue eyes.

  “It doesn’t seem like you’ve got anywhere else to go.” Emily passed through the hallway and out of the apartment.

  Upstairs, Emily went into Sarah’s old room, and picked through the pile of Good Housekeeping magazines, looking for a recipe After Sarah’s death, Emily decided to move into Sarah’s room and prepare her room for the baby. She picked up all the clothes strewn around her own room and hung them in Sarah’s Chifferobe. It had been Grandmother Alice’s, whom Emily had never met, and had arrived in a horse-drawn carriage months after Alice’s death. She brought clothes and a few personal items into Sarah’s room and arranged everything neatly. She’d purchased a new mattress with the money she found, forcing the delivery boys to cart away the old, urine and fecal stained one. But she couldn’t sleep and on the third day, she returned her things to her own room, dumping them on the floor where they still remained.

  She found a recipe for pot roast that didn’t look overly complicated, tore it out of the magazine, stuffed into her skirt pocket, grabbed her coat and left. She would get all the ingredients on the way home from a standing engagement that she wouldn’t miss.

  Coming to Terms

  Except for the day of the wake and funeral with the accompanying after funeral reception at Beverly’s house, Lauren hadn’t seen her mom since Dorothy’s death. She’d called her several times and they’d exchanged pleasantries over the phone. Beverly asked how she was faring. Lauren didn’t think it would be smart to bring up what they’d both learned. She hoped Beverly would talk about it when she was ready; she didn’t want to push her any more than she already had, but one of the people Lauren needed to discuss the contents of the basement with was Beverly. When Lauren called to invite her to lunch, she figured Beverly would say “no,” and shamefully enticed Beverly into coming by telling her that she’d found something of her family’s in the basement.

  They met at the diner at noon on Lauren’s Wednesday off from work. It was late July; the children’s last week of camp. It had been a hot summer, more days in the nineties, than Lauren remembered from the past and she was grateful that the children could swim and stay distracted from the heat all day. Their old house wasn’t air conditioned and proved to be a sweat box most of the summer. Lauren had dragged an old window air conditioner from the basement up to her bedroom. She and the children spent most of their summer evenings in there watching TV and depressingly eating their dinners in her bed.

  The cold air of the diner was a welcome break from the sweltering heat outside. Lauren and Beverly settled into their usual booth, shying away from the heat penetrating through the windows toward the cool, artificial air being pumped from the ceiling vents. After they ordered, Lauren reached over the table and took Beverly’s idle hand in her own. “How are you doing, Mom?”

  Beverly smiled back at her daughter. “I’m ok.”

  Lauren had mastered the art of using silence as a communication tool through her clinical experience and simply nodded, invoking the communication strategy and saying nothing.

  “It’s hard, knowing my real mother was living right there down the street from me this whole time, right in your house… and I never knew.”

  Lauren nodded again and squeezed Beverly’s hand.

  Beverly withdrew her hand and reached in her bag for a tissue. “I thought she was dead this whole time. I could’ve visited her, gotten to know her. It seems unfair.”

  Lauren nodded again. “It is unfair, Mom.”

  “And I’m mad at my mother for doing this to me. I want to yell at her, but she’s gone and I miss her too.” Beverly continued, the tears streaming down her cheeks now. She paused for a moment before continuing. “It’s a lot to take in at once.”

  “You can say that again.” Lauren added.

  “I remember what you said to me on the way back from the nursing home about having two mothers fight over you. I guess most women should be as lucky as me.” Beverly tried to smile.

  “Hah. I didn’t think you appreciated my attempts at humor.”

  “Well, I wasn’t much in a mood for jokes, but what you said is true.”

  They both smiled and dug into their tuna sandwiches.

  Anyway, I didn’t mean to make this all about me. I know you are going through a lot too. How are you doing?” Beverly asked.

  “Oh, you know - hanging in there too. We’re working out the details of the divorce. The kids seem to be doing okay. I think it’ll be better once they’re back in school and we can get on a better schedule.”

  Beverly smiled back at her. “Yes, I’m sorry to be so absent lately. I need to see those kids of yours soon. And you, you’re always such a trooper…

  Lauren smiled and the two women continued on eating for a few minutes in silence.

  “Anyway, you said you found something in the house.”

  “Yes.” Lauren said, taking a final swallow of her sandwich. “Remember the stone in the basement, with the funny lever I showed you. Turns out it was a latch for a door to a secret room.

  “Oh my God, really?”

  “Yeah, and listen to this: there were six old paintings in there, a chest full of silver and porcelain and seventy three thousand dollars in cash.”

  “Wow!” Beverly paused a second, taking it all in. “What are you going to do with all of it?”

  “It’s your stuff. I mean your mother was the last living person in the house. I want you to have it.”

  “Oh no, dear; that’s very kind and generous of you, but I couldn’t. Let’s be honest here. There is no record of me belonging to Emily, except the ramblings of an old woman. I’ve no ownership over anything in your house.”

  “I know Mom, but records or no records, you and I both know you’re the last living relative of the family who lived in the house.”

  “No, dear… you are.”

  “Oh.”

  “And I hereby bequeath my inheritance to you; the next in line for the throne.”

  They both smiled at each other and reached to squeeze hands before returning to their tuna fish sandwiches.

  Temporary Arrangement

  It was supposed to be a temporary arrangement, until Sarah died or Steven returned home to marry her. In Emily’s perfect world, both of those things would’ve happened close together, a few days after Dorothy left with her baby. Emily would go get her baby and their family would be happily reunited and grow up together in their newly restored grand Victorian in Westville. While both of those things happened together, they didn’t do so until five years after Emily had given her daughter to Dorothy.
r />   Emily walked down the hill fully engaged in a conversation with herself and ignoring the gaggle of girls giggling at her on the street corner. She needed to get to the store to check that the Saturday girl hadn’t closed up early, which Elizabeth tended to do, if business was slow. The store was still open and she chatted with Elizabeth for a few moments, before handing her the recipe from her pocket and asking her to prepare the items to pick up on her return and continued her trip down Whalley Avenue. She remembered again with regret how long it had been since she’d seen Dorothy – five years. Dorothy had quit the job at Malley’s when the baby was born. When Emily recovered and was able to walk long distances again, she would visit Dorothy and the baby and bring money as agreed. She knew she couldn’t bring much -minute amounts from her pay at Malley’s. But a few months after the baby was born, she couldn’t scrape anything together and missed the weekly visit. One week turned into two, three, and four.... It had been four and a half years since she gave Dorothy anything.

  A week after Sarah died and Emily found the money, she decided to go visit Dorothy and the baby. She planned to give her the money and make arrangements to get the baby back. On her way to Nash street, she cut through the East Rock Park, and there was her daughter, playing with Dorothy’s two sons and two daughters. They were pushing her on a swing tied to a tree branch. She’d know her daughter anywhere with her dark curls and blue eyes – like Emily, with a little bit of Steven mixed in. Instead of heading on to Dorothy’s house on Nash street, she sat on a park bench to watch the children play, smiling when her daughter screamed with delight as the swing swung high in the air. She’d come every day since. Yesterday, she'd locked eyes with the older girl once and seen her confer with her brother and point in her direction.

  She crossed the street onto Wintergreen Avenue thinking of Steven’s return. The air was still cool and the trees bare enough for her to see East Rock loom in front of her. She tightened her coat around her and pulled her scarf up to her chin. She knew she should be angry at him for the wife, the children, the murder, and the lies. Yet, she couldn’t muster the sentiment. Steven was home and she’d have the family she’d longed for all these years. She and Steven would marry and they would get their baby back. Emily didn’t like the name Dorothy had given her baby and would rename her baby Mary, after her old friend and housekeeper. Yes, it was all going to work out exactly as planned, albeit a little late.

  Emily approached the park and scanned the children playing, in search of Mary. She examined the crowd settled with buckets and shovels on the newly thawing ground. A smile crossed her face at the children’s mud-stained fingers, but Mary wasn’t among them. An older child was on the swing being pushed by someone closer to their age. Four or five others were engaged in a ball game far off field. Dorothy’s children and Mary were nowhere to be found. She sat on the park bench to wait. She’d stay an hour, perhaps two.

  On her way home, Emily’s shoulders sagged. The sight of her daughter gave her an incredible bolt of joy, but her absence seemed to deflate her in equal measure. The store was already closed when she got back – it was after six o’clock. Emily had left all the ingredients for the pot roast in a neat pile on the counter, with the recipe folded on top and a note saying the butcher had dropped off the meat and to retrieve it from the icebox. She gathered the goods and trudged the rest of the way home, rallying when she remembered that Steven was home.

  Making Amends

  The solution to the problem of Baxter’s lawsuit came to Lauren during an early morning hour when she awoke before the children and laid in bed with a cup of coffee. When she was with Jeff, he’d labeled this her “morning thinking.” During this time, her mind was never as still as her body. This was the time of day was when she got all her good ideas. This was the time of day when she mentally planned and coordinated, strategized a new intervention for a problem patient or a solution to a scheduling snafu she’d run into with the kids. It was one of those intensely overcast August days when the early morning could still be confused with the retreating hours of nighttime and the sky threatened to open up at any moment. The sound of distant thunder was vague and constant, as if it had always been there. The sound didn’t come closer; seemingly held off by a force of will.

  It was such a simple yet brilliant idea, she wondered why she hadn’t come up with it weeks ago. Brian came into the bed with her and silently snuggled under her right arm. Claire arrived and tucked under her left, forcing her to return her coffee cup to the bedside table and focus her attention toward the children. They sat there snuggling for a few minutes longer until Lauren directed them toward their rooms to get dressed. She glanced again out the window and the clouds began to part, letting in a perfect ray of sunshine.

  She hadn’t had a serious conversation with Jeff since the fateful evening at Scoozi’s that ended their marriage. Since then, their conversations had been brief and focused on the children, or occurred in the presence of their mediator who was helping them divide their few assets or with Attorney Jack Kelsey who was helping them resolve their mounting liabilities. She suggested an early coffee at the Diner, after she dropped the kids at Beverly’s.

  Lauren arrived first and ordered what was now her third coffee of the day before Jeff’s new pick-up truck drove by the restaurant in search of a parking place. She rolled her eyes. Why he needed a new truck was beyond her and why he would want such a gas guzzler was another question. Lauren reminded herself that Jeff’s bad choices were almost no longer her problem and a self-satisfied smile spread across her face.

  Jeff rushed in five minutes later, full of damnations over the lack of parking spaces. He sat across from her and ordered coffee. They exchanged the latest news about the children before Jeff asked why she wanted to see him.

  “Well, I had an idea,” she began.

  “Oh, no.”

  “Don’t be a wise ass, this is a good one. Hear me out. “

  Ok, shoot.”

  “Alright, well the lady from Yale called and the paintings are original. They want to keep them in their permanent collection, right.”

  “Yeah, but I told you I didn’t think that was a good idea. If they’re valuable enough to hang in a museum, they’ve got to be worth a lot of money,” Jeff said.

  “Worth more than a million dollars?”

  “I don’t know, maybe. Why?”

  “I think we should donate them to the Museum in memory of Baxter to settle the lawsuit with his parents. Jack said they don’t need the money and are looking to inflict pain. This might be what they need to keep the memory of their son alive. We can list them as the benefactors and give them full control over the dispositions of the paintings in the future.

  “And what if the paintings are worth more than a million dollars and we settled the lawsuit for a fraction of their value?”

  “Listen Jeff, the paintings should be hung in a museum; not sold to a private party on EBay. Not to mention, we have no idea of the worth of the paintings or how to value them or find a reputable seller.”

  Jeff sat back in his chair. “Did you discuss this with Kelsey yet?”

  “Not yet. I wanted to see what you thought before I called him.”

  “Go ahead and see what he thinks. I’m not saying yes. If he thinks it might fly with Baxter’s parents and it would be a way to end this nightmare and get on with our lives. I’ll think about it.”

  “Fabulous – there’s one more thing...”

  More Secrets

  The pot roast was a dismal failure. The meat was tough and overdone; the potatoes were hard and undercooked, but it didn’t matter. Emily and Steven still found themselves in Steven’s single bed together. Their lovemaking was similar to the meal, Steven was overdone and anxious, and Emily was hard and tight from lack of love-making over the years. They managed to find their way and lay back tightly pressed together on Steven’s pillow. The position prevented them from looking at each other and Emily was glad for this.

  “Steven, I have a
secret to tell you too.”

  “I’m sure it pales in comparison to mine, but do tell.”

  “You’ll be surprised.”

  “What is it?”

  “When you left, I found myself pregnant with your child.”

  Steven whirled around on the bed and faced her on all fours.

  “The baby – a little girl named Mary – was born January 16, 1941.”

  “That’s wonderful news – I’m a father. Where is she?”

  “That’s the problem, Steven. You see, I couldn’t care for her with my mother and you being gone. I asked my friend Dorothy to take her until mother passed, or you returned, but neither of those things happened until recently.”

  “She’s still with Dorothy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s go get her. We’ll go first thing in the morning.”

  “Steven, we can’t bring her here. Not in the condition this house was in. You see, I planned to clean it up, make a room for her and learn to cook as a mother should, but…”

  “Emily, those things aren’t important. We must bring Mary home to live with us, her parents.”

  Emily continued to look out the window.

  Steven tried again, “Tomorrow’s Sunday. Let’s spend the day cleaning the house and getting it ready for Mary’s return. On Monday, we’ll go get her and bring her home.”

  “There’s also the money.”

  “What money?”

  “I was supposed to pay her to care for Mary, but I haven’t. Not in a while anyway.”

  “Emily, they can’t hold her ransom for nonpayment of child support. I’m sure there’s a law against it. Anyway, we’ll find a way to pay them what we owe. I’ll get a job – hell, I’ll get two.”

  Emily smiled and Steven wrapped her in his arms. They made love again and this time it was just right.

  Thomas

  On a brisk Friday in late September, Lauren stood on the pier watching the cruise ship pull away from the New York harbor. The image made her remember back to her childhood days in the early seventies when she and her mom and dad would watch The Love Boat, snuggled up together on a Saturday night with a bowl of popcorn. She laughed at the picture of her and the two children waving among the others at the disappearing people on the vessel. Beverly would be gone for two weeks on a European cruise aboard the Queen Mary II. She’d always wanted to take a cruise; had always wanted to see the sights of Europe. Now, thanks to the bootlegging money they’d found in the basement of Lauren’s house, Two weeks on a cruise ship would give Beverly the space and setting to sort out her story. When the ship sailed out of sight, Brian, Claire and Lauren joined hands and headed back to the parking lot where they’d left the car. She promised them ice cream at Serendipity, followed by the purchase of one toy each at FAO Schwarz.