It's Just Lola (38 page)

“
I
’d better go,” she whispered.
 
That night
Lola did not sleep easily.  Was what she felt for
Wulf
desire or love?  She still had enough money left to reach Enriqueta if she left now, but that would be abandoning whatever James left for her and the children.  If she stayed, could she resist
Wulf
’s advances?

Wulf
shipped out
once
more
before Lola
decided
that
what
she
felt for him
was love
.

“Y
ou shouldn’t be out of bed so soon after childbirth.”
 
Lola ground her teeth in frustration.  This was the most ridiculous argument she
’
d ever had. 
Wulf
loved her dearly and only wanted to do the right thing, but sometimes he had a very tenuous grasp of
the
realities of family life.
 
“
Herman
, I
’
ll be riding in a carriage both ways and sitting in the bank manager’s office while I’m there.  It
’
ll be the most relaxing afternoon I have had in ages.”

“You know carriages bounce around.  It won’t be relaxing.”

“Riding even the bounciest carriage has to be easier than doing laundry for three children and an infant.”

“You’ve been doing laundry?”

Lola put her hands on her hips. 
“God doesn’t send his angels down to do it for me.
 
What do you think I was doing every afternoon while you were in the parlor with the children?” 

“I thought you were resting.  Maggie and the other women...”

“...are our friends,”
said
Lola.  “They aren
’
t servants, and I can
’
t ask them to do laundry.”

“I’m sorry, Lola, I guess I didn’t think about that.  All right, I’ll go with you.”

“Thank you, Herman, but you
should
stay here and walk Nellie if she wakes up.  Maggie
’
ll fix a sugar-water teat for her if you need it.  I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

An hour
later Lola was once again sitting in front of the desk of the Central Bank manager
,
dressed in her best dress and hat.
 
“Señor Fernandez, I
’
m pleased you still remember me.  It
’
s been a very difficult year for me.  As you can imagine,
with the war,
the British Embassies have
little interest in
the livelihood of a widow and her small children.”  She put enough of an edge in her voice to let the man know that she felt he was personally responsible for her difficulties.  She extended the letter she was carrying.
 
“Here
’
s the proof you require.”  The man took the letter and read it carefully before handing it back to Lola.

“If Señora would wait for me, I will bring a statement to you.” 
When it seemed that the Embassy in Peru was unable to get the letter, s
he had
given
Wulf
a letter to deliver to the British Embassy in Chile.  Secretary Smythe was no longer with the Embassy and Minister Stronge
said he
would sen
d an answer
to Lima—and that had taken a year
. 
Lola wondered how a government that conduct
ed
a war across at least two oceans and entire continents could take a year to deliver a simple letter from
Chile
to
Peru
.  When Señor Fernandez returned, his face had bad news written all over it.

“I’m sorry, Señora.”  He extended a paper toward her.

Lola felt faint when she read the paper.  “There must be a mistake,” she whispered.  “Is this all?
  He said I’
d never have to worry if anything happened to him.  He told me that he
’
d made provisions for our future.”  She was devastated.  Had he lied?  No, she was certain that his strong feelings of honor would not have permitted it.
  She suddenly thought of the dearest ring
, knotted in a handkerchief and tucked away against a day she might once again be reduced to eating half-rotten vegetables
. 
James had
know
n
the name of
each stone.  “What would a person do if he had jewels to safeguard?”

“He’d get a safety deposit box.
”

“Did you check to see if my husband had one of those?”

The manager excused himself and returned two minutes later. 
“
Y
ou
are correct, Señora; your
husband
did have
a safety deposit box.
 
If you
come with
me, I will assist you to open the box.”

“Thank you.”  Profound relief swept over Lola.  She followed Señor Fernandez into the vault.  He located the proper box and took it to a table before opening it for her.  He stepped back to allow her a semblance of privacy as she looked into the box.

T
here was paper with English writing on top.  It wasn’t money and it wasn’t jewelry.  She set it aside on the table.  Underneath she found…another paper, then another and another.
  Disbelief and shock nearly paralyzed her. 
“It’s a box full of paper,” she said to Señor Fernandez.  “Look.  It’s just paper
.
” 
She blinked back tears.

He stepped forward and picked up one of the papers. 
E
xcitement replace
d
his professional expression.  His eyes sparkled and he grinned like a small boy.  “You
’
re a very fortunate woman, Señora.  Your husband was
clever
and forward thinking.  These are stock certificates.”

“Stocks?  You mean companies?”
  She looked again and recognized some of the names.

Señor Fernandez explained
how
stocks continued to increase in value.  He advised her not to sell them until it was absolutely necessary. 
B
ack
in
his office
, he
did some calculations.  “The value of one of these nearly doubled in the year since you first came here.  I’m not familiar with all of them, but I
’
m sure they
’
ve all appreciated greatly.
 
I suggest you take a box in your own name to keep these safe.  If someone takes
a certificate
or destroys it, you cannot recover it.  Once it
’
s in your name, you only need to appear at the bank with your key and they
’
ll allow you
access
to your box.” 

While she waited for Señor Fernandez to prepare the paperwork for the new box, she thought about
his words
. 
I
f she told
Wulf
about the stocks, he
’
d want to sell them. 
She didn’t doubt
Wulf
’s love, but he spent most of his time at sea
and had no concept of planning for the future
. 
There
’
d follow a wonderful time when he wouldn
’
t have to go to sea and would spend all the time at home…and then the money would be gone.  She had learned firsthand the uncertainties of life.  If, God forbid, anything happened to
Wulf
she would need to fend for herself and her children.
She clamped her jaws in determination. 

“If you
’
ll sign here, Señora,” said the bank manager, interrupting her thoughts. 
A
s he walked her to the door
,
he
told her that she was always welcome and he would personally attend her on any future visits.  It was his cordial manner, more than his words, that made Lola believe that those papers were worth a great deal of money. 

“That took you long enough,” complained
Wulf
when she returned home.  “I was getting worried about you.”

“I made them keep looking for another account, perhaps under a different spelling.”  She held out the cash she
’
d
with
drawn.  “I expected more.”
  Her disappointment was sincere—not at the lack of money, but because she didn’t trust her husband to handle it.

Wulf
looked impressed with the money she gave him.  “I never
wanted
more than your beautiful self and your wonderful children when I married you, and I
’
ve never been disappointed. 
You
are
the
treasure beyond compare.”

Lola
felt guilty as she kissed him
.  He
’
d spoken the truth about his love.  His adoration never wavered.  Every time he walked through the
door,
he was as happy to see her as he had been the first time he came home and found her still in the house. 

The next day
Wulf
left the house early.  He returned late
in the
afternoon with a skinny young girl in a cheap red dress that was so tight Lola wondered how she could walk.  The girl’s eyes darted back and forth with a hunted look
that
reminded Lola of the stable cats on the plantation—looking for something to be tossed their way, but ready to run at the slightest sudden move. 

“Maggie
,
” called Lola without taking her eyes off
Wulf
and the girl.  “
c
an you come here a minute, please?”
 
Maggie appeared, wiping her hands on her apron.  “Can you take our ‘guest’ into the kitchen and get her something to eat?  I need to talk to my husband—alone.”

Maggie looked from one to the other and wordlessly reached out for the girl’s hand to lead her away.  “Dear God in Heaven!” the older woman exclaimed.

“What?”  Lola’s eyes left her husband for the first time.  Maggie turned the unresisting girl around and showed Lola the other side of her face, purple and swollen with a recent gash over the cheekbone. 

“
Wulf
, h
ow did this happen?
”  Lola whirled on her husband. 

“I
had nothing to do with that
, I swear. 
She was that way when I got her.
”  He took a step backward as
Lola
advanced on him.  “Listen to me.  Let me explain.”  He kept walking backward, and Lola pointed toward the parlor door.  She followed
him in
and kicked the door shut behind her.

“Talk,” she commanded.

“You said you needed someone to do laundry…”

“So you snatched a girl-whore off the street
to
do laundry?
  How did she get those bruises?
”  She
’d
n
ever
being this angry with him.

“Lola, Sweetheart,
y
ou know I
’
d never do that.  I know how hard you work, and I wanted to help.”  He put his hand under her chin, tilting her face up toward his.  “I love you, Lola—even when you’re mad at me.  But today you have no cause for anger.
  Just ask her.
”

Lola’s
anger melted as he gently kissed her and drew her toward him.  A voice inside her told her not to let him manipulate her, but she told it to be quiet as she returned his kiss.  How could she be angry with a man who loved her so passionately?

“I’m not through being angry,” she said, “but I
’
ll listen.” 

“Last night I watched you as you slept.  You
’
re so beautiful.  When you sleep you look like an angel visiting the earth.  I want you to be happy and I see how hard you work.  So I started thinking how I might get someone who would be willing to do laundry and be at your call whenever you needed her.
 
You should be in bed resting still, yet you go up and down those stairs and you do laundry when you should be sleeping and building your strength. 

“I’m a sailor.  I know s
ailors miss two things when they
’
re at sea: women and drink.  I don’t want to shock you, but sailors know where to find both of these things in any port in the world. 
You’re a real lady
and know nothing of the underside of the world, but if you really want to know, I
’
ll tell you.”

“Yes.  I really want to know.”  She
’
d never tell him that she knew more of the underside of the world than he thought.

“Every port, and probably every city, has houses where women take money to…”

“I know what a bordello is.”