1929 (8 page)

“Maura, why don’t you make Ava and Claire a
drink to celebrate my new found freedom? And no grape juice,” she
said and smiled at her devilishly.

“I’d be happy to, love.” Maura returned the
sinister grin, wobbled her way to the liquor cabinet to pour two
shots of whiskey and delivered them to Ava and Claire.

Arianna held up her glass.

“To good friends and silver linings,” she
toasted. Ava and Claire were hesitant and glanced warily at each
other. They were accustomed to a single glass of wine with dinner
and nothing more. After a moment, they gave each other a ‘why not’
shrug and quickly tilted up their shot glasses.

Claire squeezed her eyes shut and shook her
head, hard. Ava’s eyes watered, lips puckered, and then she gagged.
Arianna and Maura laughed hysterically at them.

“Aye, tis the first shot that burns. The
next’ll be easier,” Maura assured them, patting Ava’s head and
laughing.

“I think I’m quite all right, thank you,” Ava
said with a gasp, wiping her eyes.

“Nonsense!” Arianna yelled. “We’ve only just
started! We’re celebrating, remember? Maura, let’s have another all
around.”

∞∞∞

The mood was somber as Aryl directed Jonathan
and Charles toward the few boxes and crates Claire had organized.
Much of the same basic items were included with the only
extravagances being Claire’s box of paints, her wooden easel, and a
few canvases.

It was getting late and Jonathan was eager to
get this depressing task over with and get home to Ava. Aryl took
Caleb’s place repairing holes, and Jonathan helped Caleb transport
his and Arianna’s belongings, which took three trips because of
extra things Arianna couldn’t bear to part with.

When they returned from the last trip, they
began cleaning the bathrooms and kitchens. Sven tackled the
cast-iron, claw foot tubs, scrubbing off years of black grime from
the chipped, white porcelain finish. Caleb fixed the screw plates
on the metal garbage chute doors and lined the wall with layers of
masking tape to create a seal. Jonathan worked on the sink and gas
stove by scrubbing off years of neglect and checking connections.
They put Charles in charge of sweeping the floors. He was, after
all, in his sixties and had put in more than a full day already.
The others admired his tenacity and devotion. The work went on late
into the night.

∞∞∞

“Just one more.” Ava giggled and held out her
glass, her swaying arm making it hard for Arianna to pour. They
were all sitting on the floor cross-legged in a circle.

“I don’t know for the life of me why I never
tried this before!” she slurred and tilted her glass back.

Claire leaned close to her and whispered
loudly, “We were proper women before, that's why!” Claire burst out
laughing and fell over on her side. Arianna could barely hold
herself up, not from intoxication, but from hysterical laughter at
witnessing her friends in a very drunken state for the first
time.

“I think this be the last drink o’ the night
for ye, my dear,” Maura said, pouring a wobbly Ava another peach
brandy.

“But why?” Ava asked with half-opened glazed
eyes. “I’m having so much. . . ,” She had to stop to remember the
word. “Fun,” she said triumphantly.

“Yes, my dear, but ye’ll be fallin' over on
yer face fore long. Yer not used to this strong a drink,” Maura
said.

“I wonder what’s taking the men so long,”
Claire wondered aloud.

“Caleb told me they would be making some
repairs and doing some cleaning so it’s not quite so bad when we
get there tomorrow,” Arianna volunteered.

“That’s so wonderful of them,” Claire
squeaked and looked as if she would start crying, but a long, loud
belch erupted which caused everyone to roll with laughter again.
Arianna didn’t like talking about tomorrow. Or yesterday, for that
matter. She knew the men would have a late night which is why she
secretly planned this little party. Arianna watched her friends,
and she was glad that they were a little less miserable.

Claire was giggling at an off-color joke
Maura was privately telling her. Ava was slumped over, patting her
face with a confused look.

“Ava,” Arianna called to her, smiling. It
took Ava a few seconds to find the voice calling her and focus on
it. “Are you okay?”

“It’s the strangest thing. I can’t feel my
face. I know I have a face, but I can’t feel it,” she
half-whispered.

“Definitely time for you to stop, my dear,”
Arianna replied. Ava nodded dizzily in agreement. “C’mon, off to
bed with you,” Arianna ordered. “It’s very late.” Ava nodded again
and tried unsuccessfully to stand up. Arianna and Maura helped her
upstairs and into bed, leaving her fully dressed. She passed out
before they even left the room. Claire was lying on her back,
singing and waving her arms as if she was conducting a symphony.
Arianna smiled. Despite her less admirable qualities, she did care
for her friends. She felt happy that they would sleep soundly, the
sadness of their misfortune far from their minds, even if only for
tonight.

∞∞∞

“Arianna, what have you done?” Caleb asked,
with a look and tone that was all too familiar as he surveyed the
room; toppled over glasses, empty decanters, cigarette butts strewn
about, and a very intoxicated Claire lay on the couch. Arianna
turned to see Jonathan, Aryl, and Caleb looking rather shocked in
the doorway of the parlor. Maura excused herself quickly and
hurried toward the door as if she were dodging invisible
bullets.

“We had a going away party. It was fun. I
wish you could have been here,” she said and smiled
ever-so-innocently.

“Where’s Ava?” Jonathan asked with a frown,
as he peeled of his coat, now smeared with dirt and bits of
plaster.

“She’s upstairs,” Arianna answered.

“C’mon, Claire, let’s get you home,” Aryl
said, pulling her to her feet and steadying her.

Caleb pulled Arianna aside. “This is not
funny, Arianna. Jon and Aryl have been itching to get home for
hours and not to watch their wives sleep,” he said, raising his
eyebrows.

“Caleb, don’t you dare scold me. You men have
been busy thinking, running, and doing, and we’ve all been stuck
here with nothing to do but wring our hands and be scared. We may
have gotten a little carried away tonight, but we had fun. This
night, by all rights, should have had us crying ourselves to sleep,
knowing we have to leave our beautiful houses tomorrow.” His face
softened, like it always did, and she snuggled up to him, wrapping
her arms around his neck. “Besides,” she whispered and smiled
seductively. “I’m still wide-awake.” Caleb looked over at Jonathan.
He would make apologies for his wife another time.

“See you tomorrow, Jon,” he called.

∞∞∞

“Sounds like you girls had a hoot tonight,
eh, Claire?” Aryl made his way down the street with Claire pulled
to his side.

“Maura is so funny!” She giggled. “She told
dirty jokes all night. And Ava told us all about her life growing
up and losing her parents to the big flu and how her mean ole
cousins arranged for her to meet that awful man,” she paused to
take a deep breath. “Arianna told us about Paris, the dancing
shows, and the operas and all the fun you guys had there and the
beautiful women that run around scantily dressed.”

Aryl stiffened. “Oh, yeah? What, uh, else did
she tell you about that?”

Claire shrugged sloppily and stumbled over a
root distorting the sidewalk. She couldn’t remember many details,
even with the cold wind’s sobering effect. The women had taken
turns bearing their souls to each other during that uninhibited
time between tipsy and thoroughly drunk.

“Where’s Maura?” Claire asked, looking
around.

“Charles took her and Sven home. They’ll be
back tomorrow to drive us over to the new place.”

“Arianna told us that you guys were cleaning
and fixing tonight.” Claire smiled up at him.

“We were,” he said, helping her navigate her
way up the steps to their front door.

“That was really sweet of you, Aryl. But we
could have done that tomorrow. You have to leave something for us
women to do.”

“It wasn’t much. And there’s still plenty to
do. You remember what I told you before dinner about the
apartment?” he asked as they stepped into the foyer.

“Uh huh,” she said, trying to hang up her
coat but missing the knobby end of the hook. He took the coat from
her, shaking his head with a smile.

“Let’s get you to bed. I’ll talk to you in
the morning before we head over there,” he said.

“Why don’t you talk to me now?” she asked,
carefully making her way up the staircase with Aryl’s hands on her
waist, keeping her steady.

“I doubt you’d remember a word I said. This
is the first time you’ve ever been truly intoxicated, isn’t
it?”

“I’m not intop-sir-cated,” she said with a
frown.

In their room, he helped her quickly out of
her dress and slowly into her silk sleeping gown, taking a few
minutes to admire her nakedness as she lacked any kind of modesty
in her current state. He helped her into bed, stripped off his own
clothes and slipped under the covers. He dreaded the coming day and
realized how much he would miss this house and this room. They had
made many, many good memories in this room. He rolled over to face
Claire.

“You know, Claire, we’re going to have to
start all over.”

“Start what over?”

“Making memories. At the new place,” he said,
tugging the covers away from her. She grabbed them and pulled them
up tight to her chin.

“We’re not at the new place yet,” she said
sleepily. He propped himself up on one elbow and pushed the blond
hair out of her face.

“Do you remember the lighthouse, Claire?”

“Of course,” she said, yawning.

“What do you remember?” She opened her eyes
and tried to concentrate.

“I remember watching that terrible storm from
the lantern room. The drafts kept blowing out the candles, and
there was lightning and loud thunder . . . the smell of the sea and
the musty, wool blankets. And I remember you and me,” she said and
smiled, slightly embarrassed and closed her eyes again.

“Do you remember being happy?”

“Of course. I was with you,” she said
simply.

“Do you remember being cold and hungry?”

“Yes, now I do.” She snuggled deeper into the
covers.

“But you were happy.”

“Yes. Why are you asking me about our
lighthouse?”

“Because it’s important, I want you to
remember it. I want you to keep those memories in the front of your
mind tomorrow. Will you remember that, Claire?” he asked and kissed
her forehead.

“I don’t understand.” She yawned wide.

“You will,” he whispered, slipping one arm
under her and pulling her close. They were both asleep within
minutes.

∞∞∞

Jonathan assumed Ava had only barely drifted
off and did not attempt to be quiet while changing and stoking the
fire. He flopped into bed, making it wiggle considerably. Her back
was to him and she still hadn’t moved. He put one hand on her
shoulder and shook it gently.

“Ava,” he whispered. “I’m home, love.” Her
response was two loud snorts as she rolled onto her back. She
inhaled deeply, as her head rolled, and she exhaled directly into
Jonathan’s face.

“Whoa!” His nose wrinkled and he squeezed his
eyes shut as he turned away from the peach-tainted stench. He
looked back at her in disbelief. She’s as drunk as a skunk! He
couldn’t picture his quiet and reserved wife throwing back drinks
with Arianna and the others. He looked at her for a moment,
astounded and finally kissed her cheek, carefully timing the peck
to avoid her exhalation. “Sweet dreams,” he whispered and lay back
on his pillow with his hands behind his head. Only two days had
passed, yet he hadn’t eaten much, slept even less, and the events
had been so emotionally exhausting that he felt as if deprived of
sleep for weeks. He couldn’t get comfortable, and his mind wouldn’t
stop reliving events he would prefer to forget forever: the scene
at the Exchange, Ava’s face when he told her, the confrontation
with Victor, seeing the horrendous apartment for the first time,
his longtime friend turning his back on him. Moreover, despite
Caleb’s optimism, Jonathan knew deep down that there was no
possible way to recover from this. Their lives would never be the
same. Not even close. It takes money to make money, and they were
fresh out of that commodity. It would be a hard life now.
Struggling, sadness, and frustration would be daily staples. The
room was still and quiet with nothing to distract him from crushing
hopelessness. He berated himself for not seeing the warning signs,
not saving more cash at home, and for over-extending his credit.
All of this ignorance had combined to create the perfect storm that
destroyed his life. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. He glanced at the
clock. It was after four o’clock in the morning. Ava shifted beside
him with a whimper as he got up and tied his robe around his waist.
Arianna’s impromptu party hadn’t left him much to console himself
with downstairs, but three drinks on an empty stomach, along with
little sleep, had him heavy-eyed enough to return to bed, closing
his eyes to his old life.

October 31st 1929

Jonathan finished pulling the carpetbags from
the trunk. He turned to Charles, extending his hand.

“Thank you for your help. Thank your brother
for the use of his automobile as well,” he said, glancing back at
it. He had owned one very similar to this, and he would miss
it.

As Charles drove away, they noticed that
people had started to gather in small groups, staring and
whispering. They weren’t dressed in their best, but they were still
dressed in finery that no one in this neighborhood would be
wearing. Picking up the carpetbags, they began up the three flights
of dirty stairs to their new homes.