1929 (23 page)

“I’d already forgotten about her, Ava. I’d
already decided that I was going to end it with her, and I wasn’t
going to say anything to you that would make you think twice about
seeing me again. If I had told you that I was involved with someone
else, would you have gone to dinner with me the very next
night?”

“Probably not,” she answered honestly.

“See? I wasn’t going to risk that.”

“I would have told you to end it with her and
then come see me.” She glanced at him sideways. “That’s the proper
way to do things. Technically, I was the other woman from the time
you met me until you ended it with her.”

“Which was all of twenty four hours, Ava. I
wrote her a letter the very next day. I didn’t even see her again.
I had Charles turn her away when she came to the door and my
doorman turn her away at the office. Eventually, she accepted it
and I hadn’t heard from her again. Until now.”

Fury welled up in her at the thought of this
woman approaching Jonathan on the street to slip him a note
smelling of perfume and imprinted with a lipstick kiss.

“How did she find you then?” she asked
through tight lips. Jonathan hesitated, not wanting to say the
name.

“She’s married to Victor,” he finally said
bluntly. Her head whipped to face him.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. She mentioned he was out of town and
felt bad about what happened to us–”

“To us? Or to you?” she asked with an
accusing tone.

“Well, she said to me.” He fidgeted
uncomfortably at the questioning.

“All right, Jon, just start at the
beginning,” she sighed and listened as he gave her every detail of
the meeting, starting with Caleb noticing the car and ending with
them on the landing and hearing Arianna scream at the rat. Her eyes
flashed livid when he told her that Ruth had hugged him when she
slipped him the note. She took a minute before she said anything in
return. “So, you were just going to let Caleb get rid of the notes
and never say anything to me about it?” she asked, appalled. He
nodded grudgingly.

“Do we honestly need more problems?” he
asked.

“No, but that’s not the point.”

“I’m sorry. I should have told you. But just
like when I first met you, I wasn’t about to let her come between
us. If I had walked in here and told you, what would you have
done?” She thought about it for a moment.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I do know
that if she ever approaches you again,” she spoke with penetrating
eyes, “you will tell me about it right away.”

“I promise.” He nodded, relieved that the
confrontation was over. She was distant, though, when she changed
into nightclothes and got into bed with her back to Jonathan for a
night of restless sleep.

November 28
^th
1929

Tension hung in the air as they ate breakfast
quietly. Afterward, Ava searched for something to make for
Thanksgiving dinner. She pulled out a bucket of potatoes from under
the cloth skirt that hid the sink pipes, which had been snuggled up
against the wall to keep them chilled.

“I’ll make boxty,” she decided aloud. “It’s
not traditional, but I think they’ll like it.”

“I think that would be fine,” Jonathan called
from living room. He was trying to stuff small scraps of newspaper
into the spaces between the window and the frame. He unsuccessfully
attempted several times to start a conversation with Ava the rest
of the morning. Neither of them were looking forward to the dinner
that would be embarrassing compared to previous feasts. He walked
with her to Caleb’s apartment with a heavy heart.

Thanksgiving was a subdued evening that was
more a gathering of physically tired and emotionally weary souls
for dinner. Caleb and Arianna worked to make a well-prepared turkey
despite the old gas oven’s tendency to fluctuate wildly in
temperature. Claire and Aryl brought bread rolls, a vegetable mix
of carrots and peas, and Ava added her plate of potato cakes. They
all squeezed around the dining table that Arianna decorated with a
lace tablecloth and dried flowers. Everyone now assembled, Caleb
pulled out a bottle of wine from under his chair.

“Hey, you’ve been holding out on us!” Aryl
cried in delight.

“No, not holding out. Planning ahead. I have
one set aside for Christmas, too,” he said and smiled, pouring
everyone a glass; the bottle was gone with one round.

Aryl held up his glass. “Never drank wine
from a water glass before,” he chuckled. Caleb carved the turkey,
and no one mentioned that Caleb skipped over the traditional
Thanksgiving blessing.

Every year, for as long as the couples had
been together, they had taken turns hosting the holidays and saying
a blessing of simple, respectful words of no particular religious
denomination that expressed gratitude for the food and the company.
Easter was Aryl’s for hosting, Caleb had Thanksgiving, and Jonathan
performed the duties on Christmas. In their old life.

Everyone ate quietly, occasionally
complimented a contribution and only stayed together for an hour
after dinner, listening to the radio by the fire. The other couples
sat as close as possible to each other with intertwined hands and
arms, but Ava sat several inches away from Jonathan, and the
tension was obvious. Arianna felt like she was partly to blame for
going to extremes the night before, Caleb felt it was his fault for
not getting rid of the notes in time and Jonathan assumed it was
his fault simply because he was breathing. Regardless of whom the
fault belonged to, they were all depressed even further by such a
somber holiday compared to previous years.

They said goodnight at seven; everybody going
to bed early with work the next day as the excuse.

∞∞∞

Friday blurred into Saturday, and Ava finally
started talking to Jonathan again with some normality as he was
getting ready to meet Charles for the extra night’s work.

“Maura wants us to go to midnight mass with
her,” she told him as he was shaving at the bathroom mirror. He
stopped to throw a confused look her way.

“We’re not Catholic, Ava,” he said
flatly.

“I know that and we don’t have to be. She
wants to take us as guests.” She looked down and dropped her tone.
“Besides, what else do we have to do?” Her words stabbed at him
whether she meant them to or not.

“I figured we’d get together with Aryl and
Caleb like we always do.”

“Well, we saw how festive Thanksgiving was,
didn’t we,” she said sarcastically. “Besides, she already asked
them and they said yes,” she continued.

“When was she here to ask them?” he asked,
calling her bluff.

“It was during our girl’s night. She asked
and Claire and Arianna said they would.”

“Ah, I see. So, Caleb and Aryl haven’t
necessarily agreed?”

“Well, no, but I’m sure they will. Aryl will
be up for it because it’s something new, and after Maura was able
to convince Arianna that she wouldn’t spontaneously combust near
holy water, she agreed. And we both know Caleb will do anything
Arianna wants,” she said triumphantly.

“Why did you even ask me if I had no choice
in the matter?” He quickly went from despondence to irritation.

“You do have a choice. All I said was that
she had invited us. I didn’t get to the part where I tell you that
I’m going and would like you to come, too. If you don’t want to,
however, you don’t have to,” she said indifferently.

“What time is it at?”

“It’s midnight mass, Jonathan.”

“Oh, right, right. I guess if everyone else
is going, I wouldn’t want you to have to go alone.” He made a
mental note to start looking for a way out of it as soon as
possible.

“We’re supposed to go to her house for drinks
in the afternoon, then to the church for the children’s mass, back
to her house for dinner, and then back to the church for midnight
mass,” she informed. “Look on the bright side. It will make the day
go faster,” she said, sensing his anxiety over the holiday.

He finished getting ready for the dreaded
night before him.

“You look nice,” she said genuinely. He
looked handsome and dignified like he used to when they would go
out to the theater or to a dinner party.

“Thank you. I’m taking some change out of the
money jar, so I can take the trolley. I’ll replace it with the
money I make tonight.”

She straightened his coat collar and brushed
some lint off the arms. She kissed him a quick peck and then
stepped away. He grabbed her arm before she could turn.

“When are you going to forgive me?” he asked
with begging eyes.

“I have.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“I have. It’s just that I keep wondering what
else?” She crossed her arms and looked at the floor. “What else
haven’t you told me?” she asked, exasperated.

“There’s nothing else,” he chose his words
carefully as he took a step forward to close the gap between them
and lifted her chin to look at him. “There is nothing else that has
happened since the day we met that I have not shared with you. I
swear.” She wanted to believe him, but something nagged. She pushed
it aside and gave him another slightly more meaningful kiss
goodbye.

“Be careful tonight.”

“I will. You keep the door locked and a chair
under the handle till I get home. I don’t like being gone at
night.”

“I’ll be fine,” she reassured as he walked
out the door. He waited on the other side until he heard her turn
the lock and then headed down the stairs.

∞∞∞

It was cold, and he walked briskly from the
trolley. He had arrived uptown early and decided, against his
better judgment, to walk down his old street three blocks away.
Except for hair slightly grown out over the ears, he looked like he
belonged here. There were many houses up for sale and some with
auction notices listing dates and times that the houses and
belongings would be up for bid. Only about half the houses on the
street gave the soft glow of life within. The others stood sad and
dark. He looked around, amazed at the transformation the
neighborhood had taken in just one month. He stopped in front of
his old house and had mixed feelings when he saw that it, too, was
sad and dark. Part of him was glad, for it would hurt to see
someone else through the windows living a life that used to be his,
but he also hated to see the beautiful house showing signs of
neglect. He went back and forth and finally decided that he was
happier that it was empty.

He walked up the front steps and stood in
front of the bay window. That was where he and Ava had put their
Christmas tree for the last three years. He could make out the
stately mantel that once held glowing candles and pine boughs of
scented garland. They had hung quilted stockings from the mantel,
which they stuffed for each other in secret. And even though they
were grown adults, each insisted Santa Claus had visited. He
pictured the sofa, angled toward the fireplace, where they had sat
many times and discussed moving their stockings over, one day, to
make room for smaller stockings of pink and blue. His memories
played out in front of him like a picture show, and when he
couldn’t watch anymore, he turned away as sad and dark as the house
he loved.

∞∞∞

“Hello, sir.” Charles waited outside the rear
entrance and greeted Jonathan cheerfully, knowing that it would be
an especially difficult night for him. He took him in the back
door, showed him around the kitchen, and introduced him to the
chefs. One needed no introduction as Sven turned away from the
stove and smiled. Jonathan now felt a little better with two
familiar faces to help him get through the evening. He hoped there
would be no more, however, in the ballroom where almost two hundred
guests chatted, laughed, and drank merrily. Charles handed Jonathan
a large, silver tray piled with small sandwiches, crackers, and
pate’. As he lifted it onto his shoulder, Jonathan inhaled deeply
and his mouth watered. He missed exotic food with spice, having
survived recently on a diet consisting mainly of bland
carbohydrates.

“Follow me with this, sir. There are large
banquet tables at the far end of the room. We will swap these for
trays that are empty or low, and on our way back, we’ll pick up
used glasses and plates. That’s mainly it unless there is a request
from one of the guests,” Charles explained.

Jonathan nodded and followed him down a hall
and through the servant’s door into the ballroom. There was a
lavishly decorated Christmas tree in the middle of the room that
glistened majestically and a quartet in the corner playing elegant
music. He glanced around and recognized some of the faces. He put
his head down and hoped none of them would recognize him. He
managed to get to the table, swap out the tray, and get back to the
kitchen unnoticed. He relaxed a bit while he waited for one of the
chefs to fill a new tray. If he could manage to get back and forth
quickly without being noticed, this would indeed be easy money.

The first half of the evening went just as he
hoped. He even got to enjoy some of the foods he missed so much as
the chefs’ assistants set aside items from returned trays for the
kitchen staff to enjoy. Jonathan saw this and brought back a tray
with plenty of crackers and pate’ on his next trip.

When Jonathan was returning near the end of
the party, someone called his name. He glanced with his eyes but
kept his face forward with the hope that the man was calling
someone else.

“Jonathan!” A small, round man took several
penguin-like steps to catch up with him. He was short and bald with
kind eyes and a wide smile. “Hi, there, Jon. How are you? I haven’t
seen you in quite a while. How’s Ava?” he asked glancing from his
face to the tray he held and back.