Authors: M.L. Gardner
Tags: #drama, #family saga, #great depression, #frugal, #roaring twenties, #historical drama, #downton abbey
As he fumbled for his key, he could hear
Arianna’s sniffles and whimpering from the other side. He threw his
head back and sighed heavily. What now? He simply didn’t have it in
him to contend with her hysterics because someone was foul to her
or something lovely was seen that they couldn’t afford. Every day
he found patience to handle some sort of crisis or emotional
outburst. But not today. He opened the door, and although it was
dark, he could see she was on the couch, hugging her knees.
“Oh, Caleb!” She burst into sobs and reached
her arms out for him. He stared at her for a moment with a tired,
indifferent expression and turned, closing the door behind him.
He went to the deli around the corner. He
hated to spend any money, but he was starving, and he knew there
was no dinner at home.
∞∞∞
Arianna put on her sweater and headed down
the hall to Ava’s apartment. Her knock on the door was weak, but
Ava managed to hear it over Aryl’s heated debate with Jonathan. She
had been sitting by the fire with Claire trying to get warm and
tune out the men, both of whom they were still not speaking to.
Aryl had followed Jonathan in straight from work to finish the
debate that had started on the walk home. He was trying to get
Jonathan interested in real estate without giving away the plan he
would reveal on Christmas. Jonathan wanted no part of it.
“Arianna!” Ava gasped with one look at her.
“What’s wrong?” She was leaning on the doorframe, her forehead
beaded with sweat, the color drained from her face.
“I’m sick,” she started. Ava helped her
inside and sat her on the couch.
“Are you in pain?” Ava asked, looking for an
explanation for the tears.
“My stomach, but it's better than it was. It
started this morning. I didn’t want to come here and risk making
you sick, too, but I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t have the
strength to chase after him.”
“Who?” Claire asked, taking her hand.
“Caleb. When he came home, I was crying, and
I know he must be tired of that, but this time it’s serious. I went
to the doctor today . . . but he didn’t know that, he just turned
and walked away when he saw me. I don’t know where he went.” She
started crying again and reached to hug Ava.
“Did he say anything? Do you have any idea
where he went?” Aryl asked. She shook her head.
“He didn’t say a word to me. I didn’t even
have a chance to tell him what the doctor said.”
“What did the doctor say?” Aryl asked,
presuming her diagnosis was the same stomach flu that was spreading
fast around work and the tenement.
“He said I have a stomach flu.” Aryl moved to
the door and put on his coat. “And that I’m pregnant,” she blurted
out. Aryl stopped short in the doorway, stunned for a moment, then
looked back toward Arianna.
“I’ll go find him, all right?” he
promised.
“Caleb should have been the first to know.”
she said.
“Well, he didn’t exactly give you the chance
now, did he?” Claire said, smoothing her hair. This was something
they all worried about; bringing a baby into this dreadful place.
But with little means beyond a calendar to prevent it, they
supposed they shouldn’t be too shocked. Sooner or later, it was
bound to happen to one of them.
“How are you doing, Arianna?” Ava asked.
“I don’t know. I’m still in shock, I
suppose,” she said quietly. “I feel horrible. The doctor said it’s
baby sickness on top of stomach sickness. A double whammy. He gave
me a tonic to settle my stomach and iron pills. Dr. Westley said he
was worried about my diet, under the circumstances. And he gave me
the address of a midwife near here. He said she’s well experienced
and doesn’t charge as much as a doctor. She can give me check-ups
and see to the baby after it’s born. I hate the idea of bringing a
baby home to this place. And I’m so worried that Caleb will be
upset,” she said quietly.
“Well, it’s just as much his doing as yours,
you know,” Claire said in defiance. “He would have no right to be
angry.”
“I know, but it’s one more worry. And one
more expense.”
“Listen,” Ava said and smiled. “Why don’t we
help you get up to your apartment, so you can get some rest? Aryl
will be back with Caleb soon.” Jonathan hadn’t moved from his seat
at the table, staring at the floor. He couldn’t imagine how
devastated Caleb would be, and he was grateful it wasn’t happening
to him.
∞∞∞
Aryl walked a few blocks in each direction,
trying to think of where Caleb might have gone. Finally, he stopped
a streetwalker across from the deli.
“Where can a guy get a strong drink around
here?” The tattered blonde looked him up and down and smiled.
“You’re the second guy to ask me that
tonight.”
“Well?” he asked impatiently. She smiled but
kept silent. He huffed his breath impatiently.
“Nothin’s free, honey,” she said finally.
“How much then?”
“For the information? Or for something else?”
Aryl was getting very frustrated. It was cold, and his stomach was
cramping worse than earlier.
“Just the information.”
“A quarter.”
“Fine,” he said, digging a quarter out of his
pocket.
“Keep walking down a block, turn into the
alley and walk to the third metal door on the right. Knock three
times, stop and then knock twice more. They’ll let you in.”
He walked off without saying another word,
found the door, and knocked as she had told him to. A large man
opened the door, gave him a quick look up and down, then stepped
aside to let him in. He spotted Caleb toward the back of the
makeshift bar.
“Caleb.”
He looked up, slightly surprised to see Aryl.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to bring you home.”
Caleb shook his head. “Not just yet. In a
while,” he said and turned back to his drink.
“No, Caleb, you need to come home and deal
with this.”
“Deal with what? Her whining and crying all
the time? If it’s not one thing, it’s another, and none of what she
cries about is important in real life. Almost every single day, she
is falling apart about something. And I have to make it better, but
I just don’t have it in me right now. Maybe not at all. Almost
every single day, I come home to a cold apartment that distinctly
lacks the smell of dinner cooking.”
“Are you done?”
“You know how I spent my days off this
weekend, Aryl? Doing laundry. She said she didn’t know how and
won't attempt to learn, even though Shannon offered to teach her.
I've spent too much money buying dinner every night, and I have to
hide the money jar, which she threw a fit over. She has wasted more
of our pitiful savings than I care to think about.” Caleb tossed
back his drink.
“Are you done?”
“And for the last few days, she had gone on
and on about this thing with Elyse. Falling apart because she feels
like it’s her fault. Then last night she broke down because it
doesn’t feel like Christmas without a tree, presents, and parties.
Even after your speech on saving money. I can only deal with so
much. And I’ve had my fill.”
“Are you done?”
“I suppose,” Caleb huffed.
“Okay, good. Now you need to come home and
deal with your wife. This time, I can tell you that her tears were
well warranted.”
“How do you know?”
“She came to Jon’s while I was trying to talk
some sense into him.” Aryl hesitated. “She’s sick, Caleb. She went
to the doctor today, and she was crying because of what he told
her.” Caleb’s face fell into sudden concern.
“What did he tell her?”
“It’s not my place to say.”
“Is it serious?” he asked as he put his coat
on.
“I think it is.”
“You gotta tell me what’s going on.” Aryl
shook his head.
“I can’t. I promised her I wouldn’t.”
Caleb hurried faster now, worried about
Arianna and angry at himself for walking out in frustration the one
time he shouldn’t have.
“I had no idea she was sick, Aryl,” Caleb
said as they walked toward home.
“I know.”
∞∞∞
Aryl was shivering hard by the time they got
back to the tenement, his face flushed from his spiking fever.
“Aryl, you don’t look well,” Claire said.
“I don’t feel so well,” he said.
“Come on, let’s get you inside.”
“I have to tell Jon–”
“He’ll figure it out,” Claire insisted. She
walked him straight to the bedroom and helped him into bed. “I
think you’re getting what Arianna has,” she called while wringing
out a cloth in the bathroom. She turned as he pushed past her and
was extremely sick. When he was finished, she helped him back to
bed and sat beside him, wiping his face.
“It’s one week to Christmas,” he said
suddenly.
“Where’d that come from? That should be the
last thing on your mind. You need to get some rest,” she said.
“I have something to give you on Christmas,
but you can’t touch it. Not yet anyway.”
“Some of the best gifts are the ones you
can’t touch . . . like forgiveness.” She pushed a few fallen curls
away from his forehead.
“I was going to talk to you about that.
Before I started feeling so sick.”
“Then it can wait.”
“No, it can’t.” He took her hand away from
his face and held it. “I don’t want this to ruin us like it’s
ruining Jon and Ava. I won’t let it. I shouldn’t have gotten so
angry with you for something I was guilty of myself. It’s hard to
explain why it seems so different to me.”
“I think I know,” she said quietly.
“Do you? Do you have any idea how crazy it
made me to think that just for those few minutes you weren’t mine?”
he asked.
“Yes and I felt the same way. You weren’t
mine that night with Elyse, either.”
“Do you have any idea how important you are
to me?” he asked.
“No more important than you are to me. I
never told you because I couldn’t lose you, Aryl. It simply wasn’t
an option. And if that meant living every day with guilt and regret
eating me alive, then it was worth it as long as I could have you
forever,” she explained.
“Exactly,” he said with a relieved sigh. She
saw his weak smile in the dim light, leaned to put her head on his
chest, and listened to his heartbeat for a long time.
“Forgive me?” he asked.
“Yes. Do you forgive me?”
“Yes,” he said, placing one hand on her head
and the other around her shoulders.
“I blame my parents, actually.”
“Why?”
“Because they were so hard on you. They
insisted that you make some vast fortune before you would be good
enough to marry me. If they hadn’t, we wouldn’t have spent that
time apart.”
“What would we have done? If I hadn’t left to
make a life for us here,” he asked curiously.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe we would have
borrowed one of your uncle’s boats and sailed around the world.
Just gone from port to port, working long enough to be able to get
to the next exotic place.”
“That would have been wonderful.” He closed
his eyes and smiled.
∞∞∞
“Are you sure?” he asked. She nodded, still
hiding under the covers.
“What are we going to do, Caleb?” Her muffled
voice was desperate. He didn’t answer for a moment, still taken
aback by the words ‘I’m going to have a baby.’
“Dr. Westley is positive?” he asked. “This
couldn’t be a mistake?”
“No. He’s sure.” She sniffled, sat up, and
pushed the covers off her head, her hair clinging to her face with
static and her eyes sunken from dehydration. “What are we going to
do?” she asked again.
“Well.” He stopped to wonder if Aryl would be
mad if he told her about the apartment building now. “It’s going to
be all right, Ahna. It’ll be fine, I promise, we ha–” He saw panic
take over her face and realized what he was saying and how he was
saying it. “No, Ahna. Listen to me.” He held her face in his hands
and looked her in the eyes. “I’m not saying that everything is
going to be fine like I did that day in October. Or like your
father did. Do you understand me? I’m telling you it’s going to be
all right because I know that it is. I wasn’t supposed to say
anything until Christmas. But I think Aryl would understand under
these circumstances.” She waited for him to finish, not fully
relaxing the panicked expression. “Aryl has a plan that is real,
Ahna. It’s viable. It’s going to happen,” he said excitedly.
“What’s going to happen?” she asked
cautiously.
“We’re all three going in on a small
apartment building.”
“How on earth can you possibly do that?” she
almost yelled .He let go of her face, grabbed both of her hands
from her lap, and held them together tightly.
“It’s all Aryl’s doing. He met the owner of a
building that is looking to sell on private contract. We take over
the building, pay the mortgage, pay him a percentage of the rents
and the rest is our profit. Aryl has it all worked out to save the
profits, buy more small buildings and build it up from there.”
“When is this supposed to happen?” she
asked.
“The first of March. That’s the tentative
date set for us to move in.”
“Move in! We get to leave this place?” she
asked surprised.
“Yes. It’s not a whole lot better,” he
warned. “But we can fix it up as nice as we want. It'll be ours.
After paint, trim, and new windows, we can start saving for nice
furniture and appliances. And the best part,” he said and smiled
wide. “There are some two bedroom apartments. We can take one of
those and this little guy,” he said as he pointed to her stomach,
“can have a room of his own.” She sat with wide, tear-filled eyes.
“I told you,” he said, squeezing her hands, his eyes convincing. “I
told you it will be all right.” He moved to lie beside her and
pulled her close under his arm. She was quiet, relieved, and almost
hopeful as she listened to Caleb talk for a long time of his plans
for the new place. “We could have Claire paint the baby’s room,” he
said suddenly, interrupting his own thoughts on building
improvements. “She could paint a mural on every wall. Maybe she
could paint a countryside scene, so he won’t even know we live in
the city!”