Drowning in the East River (12 page)

"How old?”

"He just turned two." David looked at his hands, picking at his nails. His fingernails were torn down to sore, bleeding stumps. He continued, his voice sounding wistful as he allowed himself to drift back to the pleasant memories of only a week ago. "Jessica was so amazing at the parenting thing. I just don't think I can do it. Every time I try and do something with him, I can't do anything right. He's better off with people who can care for him.”

David adjusted the cap on his head and glanced toward the bedroom. "Are you two ready?" He called out. He could hear Jessica mulling around behind the door. Thomas was babbling something. Even from the living room, he could hear the excitement bubbling in his son's voice. He flipped open his pocket watch, taking at quick look at the time.

"Ready," Jessica said, opening the door. She stepped out into the living room. She wore a light blue maternity dress, but at eight months pregnant, she was expanding beyond the support of the dress. She held Thomas by the hand, as he took large steps to keep up with her. Jessica glanced down at the child, who was still chattering cheerfully. Jessica seemed to be understanding everything he said, which sounded to his own ears like gibberish. She cracked a bright smile as she caught David's eye. "Sorry, we were a bit distracted. Apparently, he's going to teach his baby everything about baseball.”

David tucked his watch into his pocket and looked over at her. He could see the exhaustion in her face, but as usual, she wasn't letting it phase her. As they walked further into the living room, Jessica's focus was completely on Thomas as she knelt to adjust the cap on his head.

Thomas stopped and extended his arms. He stared up at his mother wide eyed, "Up Mommy!"

Jessica glanced at David out of the corner of her eye. She put her hands behind her back, stretching out her aching muscles.

"Momma's too tired, Tommy." David said, moving over towards where they were standing in the living room. He bent down, crouching to his son's level. Bracing his arms on the boy's elbows, he met his son's eyes. "We don't want to hurt her, do we?”

Thomas shook his head 'no.' Turning his head towards his mother, a concerned look spread across his face. "Why are you tired?”

David scooped Thomas up in his arms, holding him tightly to his chest.

"You're gonna have a little brother or sister," Jessica said. She moved towards where David was standing.

David set Thomas down on the floor, and the baby padded over to Jessica.

Jessica gingerly crouched down, bringing herself to Thomas' level. She smiled gently, running her fingers gently through his hair. "Right here." Her voice was gentle as she guided his fingers to the right spot. "Did you feel that kick?”

"It's just one of those things," Alexander said. He dropped the tone of his voice as the waitress strolled towards the table. He took a quick last look at the tattered menu open on the table in front of him.

"What can I do for you boys?" The waitress asked, pulling a small pencil out of her dingy, grease stained apron.

"Something light," David said. The way his stomach felt, eating anything was probably a mistake. He took a drink of the glass of water in front of him and turned his attention up to the waitress, making a split decision. "Can I get some toast with grape jelly?”

"Sure thing, sweetie." She replied, jotting down a few notes on her pad. She turned her attention to Alexander.

"Bacon and eggs," Alexander replied, taking an easy sip of coffee.

The waitress finished writing the order. "I'll have that out in a few minutes, boys." Taking a beat, she sized up Alexander with an interested eye, before walking towards the kitchen.

"I thought things had finally worked themselves out," David said, taking a small sip of the water in front of him on the table. He stopped for a moment, dumping a spoon full of sugar into the cup. "I've always felt like I've had kind of a shit run of things...I was finally happy." He paused, taking another sip. His voice cracked as he continued. "I was finally fucking happy with how things were turning out. I'm twenty fucking five, and things were only starting to break my way. She was the best thing to happen to me.”

Alexander reached across the table, putting his hand over David’s.

"I appreciate you letting me vent," David said, reacting to Alexander's simple gesture. A sense of relief seemed to be spreading through him. "Things have been so hard in the last couple of days.”

"I understand," Alexander said. He looked down, stirring his coffee slowly. "I lost most of my family to the Spanish flu in '18. I've been mostly on my own since then. It's been just me and my father.”

"Besides Jessica, I've basically been on my own since the war.”

Alexander shifted his body language. "What do you think your plans will be?”

"No idea," David said. He looked up as the waitress set down his plate. He groped in his pocket for a cigarette. "I really don't have anywhere to go. I can't really send Tommy to any of my family. The only people close is her family, and there's no way they would take me in until I get things figured out.”

Alexander looked around the restaurant, before he spoke again. "I have a thought…"

"Okay..." David said, his voice encouraging him to continue.

"Feel free to say no…"

"I can't say no if I don't know what I'm saying no too," David said, jumping in. He could feel nausea building up in his stomach, as he took a bite of the dry toast in front of him. He looked across the table at the boy. David swallowed, keeping his tone in check. "What's going through your head.”

"I've got a buddy, he's a stoker on some railroad owner's yacht, and they are looking for a couple of crewmen for a holiday trip down to Havana. He says he could get me in if I ever wanted to escape from here," Alexander stopped, gauging David's expression.

"I don't really have much experience..." David said, deliberately not saying no.

"You're a clean cut looking guy," Alexander replied. He pulled his pocket watch out of his coat and checked the time. He tossed his head to the side, flicking his hair out of his eyes. "I'm sure you can serve food to a bunch of rich people. Worse comes to worst, you shovel coal in the stove.”

"You might have an idea," David said, rubbing his tired eyes. It would be a way to get away from the memories of the city, and to earn a working wage to support his son. David exhaled sharply as he sat back in his chair, staring up at the cheap, plaster tiles which made up the ceiling of the dinner. "I think I like the sound of that.”

"Really?" Alexander asked, seeming almost surprised by the answer he heard. He stopped, waiting for a change in tone. "You do?”

"As long as I'm making enough money to send home to Thomas." David stopped for a moment, shaking his head. He leaned heavily on the edge of the counter. "I really don't have anything keeping me in the city.”

"You said your sisters-in-law will watch your son?”

David took a sip of his coffee and nodded his head. He coughed, trying to dislodge the frog he could feel in his throat. "It'll at least be a stable upbringing. That's more than I can give him."

"Can you leave tomorrow?”

"I don't have much more than this. I could leave today.”

"Are you sure?" Alexander asked, looking him over with a cautious eye.

"I know what you're thinking. Trust me, the sooner, the easier." David was putting on a strong face. He didn't want to say what he was actually thinking. Any delay in his exit could seriously shake his resolve to leave the city.

David stood up, "I'll be right back." He took a look around the diner, trying to locate a telephone. Not seeing one in any particular corner of the narrow room, he moved towards the bar.

"Can I help you, sir?" Another waitress asked. She smiled at him as she tucked her pencil behind her ear.

"Can I use a telephone?”

She looked him up and down quickly, thinking for a moment before nodding in the direction of the double doors leading to the kitchen. "It's in the back. Through the doors and you'll see it on your left.”

As David walked through the double doors, he was suddenly swallowed in the sounds and smells of a greasy diner. Somewhere, he could hear men calling out in an Eastern European language, is sounded vaguely Polish.

"Operator, can I have Greenpoint 6378?”

"Conlon residence." The voice on the other end of the line belonged to Katherine.

"Katherine, it's David. Can you put Anna on the phone?”

“Just a moment." Her tone was clipped and icy as she set the ear piece on the mantle.

"David," Anna answered the phone after a moment of icy silence. "If you could make this quick. I have Thomas' dinner on the stove…"

"I'm going to be joining up on the crew of a yacht. I'm going to be leaving the city tomorrow for Havana.”

"What about Thomas?" Anna asked, taken aback.

"What about Thomas?" David snapped. "I thought I explained that this is what is best for him.”

"Are you going to come back and see him before you leave?" Anna asked. Her voice momentarily lost the harsh and icy undertone usually present when she spoke to him. "He's been asking for you.”

"It's probably easier for everyone if I don't," David replied, swallowing the pang of regret bubbling in his stomach.

"Maybe for you, but not for that baby.”

"He's two," Thomas replied. "He'll forget about me in a few weeks."

“Is that really what you want?”

"I'll send you the money as I get it," David said, picking at his thumbnail. The pesky hangnail was throbbing. He drew this thumb into his mouth, sucking at the blood building under the nail.

"I promise. He won't put you out.”

"Christ David, he's our nephew. I just-“

"You just-what?" David asked, trying to fight off the hostile tone in his voice. He ran a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes against the mental image of Anna in his head, a hand on her hip, her narrow eyes boring into him, judging him.

"I worry about him," Anna replied, a hint of emotion rang through her usually cold voice. She let out a soft sigh. She sounded tired as she continued. "Despite everything you seem to think, the boy needs his father.”

Clicking the earpiece back into the receiver, David paused for a moment and stared out the backdoor, which looked onto a dank alley. Heaps of trash from the restaurant were waiting for the street cleaner. Puddles of stagnant water pooled on the pavement, hidden from the sun which rarely got between the two buildings.

David closed his eyes, and pushed out a centering breath as he turned back towards the dining room. Stepping back out, he felt a sense of relief invading his shoulders. It was a foreign feeling, unnatural when compared to the tension weighing him down.

Alexander looked up at him as he walked back into the dining room. His eyes were wide and expectant behind his glasses as he waited for the answer he could see in David's eyes. A coy smile spread across his lips. “Well?"

Crossing back to the booth, David grabbed his last piece of toast from the chipped china. Taking a quick bite, he reached for his hat sitting on the bench. "Are you ready to go?”

"I can," Alexander replied. "Are you feeling alright?”

"I'm scared to death."

CHAPTER SEVEN

"Do you need any help?" Alexander asked, glancing towards the building in front of them. He tucked his hands into his pockets and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. An easy, comforting smile spread across his face. When David didn't answer, Alexander continued. "Four hands are better than two, you know.”