1929 (33 page)

Read 1929 Online

Authors: M.L. Gardner

Tags: #drama, #family saga, #great depression, #frugal, #roaring twenties, #historical drama, #downton abbey

BOOK: 1929
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“Thank you, Caleb,” she said with a sigh. He
kissed her hair and squeezed her shoulder. “It might be, though,
that she won’t even know that we live in the city,” she
countered.

“We have plenty of time to work out the
details,” he assured. “By September, we’ll have everything in order
. . . for him,” he teased.

“About that.” She sat up on one elbow to look
at him. “It won’t be next fall,” she said. He counted on his
fingers and looked up confused.

“Well, it can’t be too much later than that,”
he laughed. “Unless things have changed.”

“Not later. Earlier. More like mid-June.”

“What!” he exclaimed.

“According to Dr.Westley, it will be
mid-June.”

“Oh, wow,” he said soberly.

“There’s still enough time, right? To get
everything ready?”

“Yes, there is, I just thought I had a little
more time. Wow. Six months.”

 

 

December 23rd 1929

 

Monday didn’t bring a letter from Maura but a
visit from her instead. “Ye mind tellin’ me what this is all about,
Miss Ava?” she barked, holding up the letter as Ava opened the
door. Ava threw her arms around Maura and started sobbing. “All
right now, whatever it is this time, it’ll be fine,” she said,
patting Ava’s back. “C’mon, let’s get inside before yer interferin’
neighbor pokes her nose out her door an’ I gotta handle her, too. I
dint bring me flask with me, so I might not be so nice to her this
time.” She sat Ava on the couch, pulled a handkerchief out of her
pocket, and handed it to her. “Now explain this letter to me.”

“I want to come and live with you,” Ava
cried. She sniffled and snorted, with little gasps of breath.

“What on earth did he do this time?” Maura
asked, exasperated. Ava went through the whole story of Jonathan’s
sleep talk leading to the revelation about his relationship with
Elyse and the question of infidelity during the solo trip. She
finished her long-winded story with a whiny and frustrated, “And
she looks just like me!” She fell on Maura’s shoulder crying. Maura
patted her back patiently.

“So, yer mad because he never told ye about
her, even though he ended the arrangement when he met you?” Maura
asked. Ava nodded against her shoulder. “An’ yer worried something
happened on the trip he took alone with…” She paused trying to
remember her name.

“The whore!” Ava sobbed from her place on
Maura’s shoulder. Maura couldn’t help but smirk.

“My, what language, Miss Ava. Now what did
Mr. Jonathan say about the trip in question?”

“He says nothing happened.”

“And why don’t ye believe him?” Maura asked
while pushing Ava off her shoulder to look her in the eyes. “I
can’t imagine Mr. Jonathan lyin’ to ye, Miss Ava. I just don’t
think he has it in ‘im.”

“I don’t believe him because he hid it from
me all this time.”

“Hidin’ and lyin’ are two different things,
love,” Maura said. “Just when would've been a good time to tell ye
about his kept woman across the ocean? The first night he met ye?
Or the next night when he came to ask ye to dinner? Maybe right
before yer first kiss? Or right before he proposed? Or right after?
The day before yer wedding? The day after? Then there’s always yer
one year anniversary. I can see that going over quite well with
dessert.”

“You always take his side!” Ava yelled and
dropped her head down in Maura’s lap, sobbing again.

“I’m not takin’ sides, Miss Ava. I’m just
tryin’ to get ye to be honest with yerself. I don’t think this has
so much to do with ye not believing him as ye being mad at
him.”

“I’m furious with him.”

“But it’s not all about this woman, is it?”
Maura asked, patting her head. Ava thought about it for a moment
and then shook her head in Maura’s lap. “What else are ye mad at
him for then?” Maura asked. Ava knew, but she couldn’t quite put it
into words and was quiet for a long time. “You think about that
while I go make us some tea,” Maura said and pushed Ava back up to
a sitting position and busied herself in Ava’s kitchen. Ava stared
at the dark fireplace, and that was the first thing on her
list.

“He sits and stares at this blasted fireplace
for hours on end,” she said. “And he doesn’t even act like I exist.
He hardly says two words to me anymore.” She stood and started
pacing the living room. “And believe me,” she started with a
huffing sarcastic tone, “I have no worries of ending up in
Arianna’s position.” Maura had no idea what she was talking about
but didn’t interrupt her now that she was getting to the real core
of her anger. “And he isn’t looking for a way out. He doesn’t talk
about ways to rebuild our life. He doesn’t have any hope. He just
sits. And stares. And sleeps. He’s an empty shell, and he’s never
once, the whole time since we’ve been here, taken how I feel about
this nightmare into consideration! He isn’t like Caleb who always
sees the tiniest bit of good. Or Aryl who is always looking, always
thinking.” She was fully ranting now with flailing arms and a livid
tone. Maura stood in the doorway of the kitchen, listening.

“He built a business from the ground up ten
years ago from nothing. Nothing, Maura.,” she yelled through
gritted teeth. “He fought his way to the top, and although I hadn’t
met him until after he made a name for himself, I’ve been told
about the tenacity and determination that got him where he was.
Where is all that now? When he needs it the most?” she asked,
holding her arms out. “I’ve been to his town. I’ve met his parents.
They aren’t rich, and they don’t put on airs. Jonathan acts like he
was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and now he has no idea
how to live without money and assets. Happiness isn’t possible
without a large house, a Packard, parties and trips overseas,” she
finished exasperated. Maura came back to the couch with two cups of
tea.

 

“He’s not adjusting well to this new life
then.”

“Not at all. It doesn’t even seem like he’s
trying.”

“An’ now that ye know what yer really angry
about, what are ye going to do?” she asked, handing Ava her tea and
patting the seat cushion for Ava to sit by her.

“I have no idea,” she said, sitting with
slumped shoulders.

“Yes, ye do, love. Yer going to tell him the
real reasons yer angry. So he knows it’s not all about this
woman.”

“Whore,” Ava corrected. Maura smiled.

“Whatever you want to call her, dear.”

“Oh, I’ve got some other things to call her
as well,” Ava assured.

“But do ye believe him now, after getting to
the root of why yer so angry, about that trip?” Maura asked.

“Yes,” she sighed. “I do. But I still need to
know that he doesn’t see her every time he looks at me . . . and
that he didn’t feel sorry for me like he did for her.”

“Then ask him those two questions and get
that out o’ the way. Take his answer to heart and don’t ye question
it again. You’ll only drive yerself mad. Then get on with the real
problems. He may not even realize the extent to which he’s fallen
in spirit.”

“What would I do without you, Maura?” she
sighed, taking her hand. Maura dismissed the credit quickly.

“I will see ye on Christmas Eve at me house.
I expect things to be better between you and Mr. Jonathan, do ye
understand me?” Maura reached out to hug Ava before standing to
leave. “He’ll come around, Miss Ava. Just give him time and be here
for him ‘til then. Right now’s when he needs ye the most.”

“That’s so hard to do when it feels like he’s
pushing me away,” Ava said with tears stinging her eyes again.
Maura squeezed her tighter.

“I know, love.”

∞∞∞

 

That evening after dinner, Ava sat away from
Jonathan on the couch.

“I need to talk to you.”

He grunted an impersonal acknowledgment and
she was instantly irritated with his indifference. “It would be
nice if I could steal your attention from the fire for a few
minutes.” He looked over at her with vacant, despondent eyes. “I
need to talk to you first about . . . Elyse,” she said. Just having
to say her name set her into an even fouler mood. He exhaled
heavily, dreading the conversation to come.

“Arianna said she looks like me. Is that
true?” she asked pointedly.

“Yes, somewhat.” His answer was barely
audible.

“What does somewhat mean? Arianna said she
looks just like me.”

“I really don’t want to have this
discussion,” he said, shifting his eyes back to the soft glow of
the fireplace.

“Well, I do. I need to know.”

“There are similarities and there are
differences,” he said after a long silence. “What does it matter,
Ava?”

“It matters because I need to know that you
don’t see her every time you look at me.” She couldn’t help but
snap at his listless tone.

“That’s ridiculous,” he scoffed.

“Did you feel sorry for her the same way you
felt sorry for me? Is that why you married me? Pity? Poor, orphaned
country girl lost and alone in the big city? Did it make you feel
valiant to swoop in and save me from Victor the way you saved her
from having to bed a thousand strangers?” He turned to her with
harsh eyes.

“Who’s putting this garbage in your head?” he
snapped.

“What’s happened to you anyway?” she started,
her anger getting the best of her and the conversation contorting
into something she hadn’t intended. “You just stare at that damned
fire every evening, and you have completely given up, Jonathan! Not
that you ever tried that hard in the first place! You’re just this
empty shell anymore. A shell that doesn’t talk or feel or
care.”

“You have no idea how hard I’ve tried.”

“Really? Well, I haven’t seen it. From the
minute we got here, I haven’t seen it. You can’t even answer my
questions about your whore!”

“Stop calling her a whore,” he growled,
glaring at her. Ava stared at him, taken aback.

“I see. I wasn’t sure until now, but–” Tears
blurred her vision as she stared at him and her chin quivered. “You
still love her,” she realized aloud.

“No, Ava, I don’t. That’s not true,” he said,
unable to explain further. She waited, hoping he would clarify and
set things right somehow. When it became clear that he wasn’t going
to do that, she stood. The conversation that should have put things
going in the right direction had been a complete failure. She
walked slowly to the bedroom, more scared and insecure than before,
and closed the door softly.

As she cried herself to sleep, Jonathan found
himself unable to leave the couch to go to her, which reaffirmed
his decision as the only option. He looked forward to not feeling
the heartbreak of being a disappointment and not feeling the guilt
of being unable to reach out to her. His only relief was that she
would be happy again one day.

 

∞∞∞

 

Jonathan finally spoke to Ava during
breakfast on Christmas Eve morning.

“They furloughed today.”

“I assumed,” she answered curtly.

“Did we give Christmas cards this year?” he
asked unexpectedly, looking up as if they had forgotten something
terribly important. Ava shook her head.

“I’ll go pick some up after breakfast,” he
said.

“But Aryl said–”

“Yeah, I know, but a few cards aren’t going
to make a difference,” he insisted. She waited for him to continue
the conversation, hoping that he was using the Christmas cards as
an opening to try to set things right before their evening with
Maura. However, he wasn’t. He merely set out to buy the last minute
Christmas cards without another word.

He returned a while later and laid them on
the table before shaking snow off his coat and hat. She picked them
up to look them over, and he took them from her hands abruptly.

“I’ll take care of it this year,” he insisted
and searched for a pen. He began to write cards to the handful of
special people in their lives. He penned generic openings,
greetings and closing signatures on all of them except one each for
Aryl and Ava. Aryl’s was simply a request and an apology with no
explanations. He felt Aryl knew him well enough to know the
reasons. While Ava made shortbread cookies and mashed potatoes to
take to Maura’s dinner, Jonathan sat at the table for a long time
deciding on just the right words for Ava’s card. He decided to keep
it simple and tell her the one thing he knew she needed to know;
the one thing that, for reasons he couldn’t understand, he found
impossible to say.

Ava,

I have always loved you more than
anything

or anyone in the world.

Jon

 

A few hours later as Ava readied to meet
everyone at Aryl’s for drinks before Maura’s, Jonathan made a last
minute excuse to stay behind, claiming he needed to shave and look
around for a missing bottle of brandy to take to Maura’s. He handed
her the Christmas cards with instructions to be sure Aryl received
his.

“I’ll see you at Maura’s then?” she asked,
looking him in the eyes for the first time in days.

“I’ll see you later,” he said, remaining
expressionless. He kissed her cheek and turned, not wanting to
watch her leave. When the door closed, he waited a few moments
before he dragged a chair over to wedge it under the doorknob. He
put Ava’s card on her pillow and walked to the bathroom, rolling up
his sleeves slowly. He pulled the straight razor out of his leather
bag on the edge of the sink and stepped into the bathtub. Sitting
down, he unfolded the straight razor and stared at it for a few
moments. Then he closed his eyes and ran through his memories of
Ava. He wanted his last thoughts to be of her.

 

∞∞∞

 

“Where’s Jon?” Aryl asked, letting Ava
in.

“He’ll be along. He had to take care of a few
things, said for us to head over to Maura’s and he would meet us
there,” she said, her mood muted despite the pleasant atmosphere of
Aryl and Claire’s apartment. “He also said to give you this.” She
held out the Christmas card labeled ‘Don’t open until after
midnight.’ Ava handed one to Caleb as well and held a few in
reserve intended for Charles, Maura, and Sven.

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