The Last Princess (12 page)

Looking at her for a long moment, he softened. He never could be angry with her for long. She did look tired, and she had been working hard … and he was acting like a spoiled child.

That night they slept in each other’s arms.

Unhappily, after their brief moment of reconciliation they both reverted to their former habits. Harry resumed his total absorption in his work while Lily, adapting to his isolation, became more and more fascinated with Jeremy. Neither husband nor wife admitted that they were drifting apart.

As Jeremy began to crawl and get into mischief, Lily found it impossible to discipline him. Occasionally it occurred to her that she really ought to be a little firmer with him, but he was such an adorable baby, and when he looked up at her with those big blue eyes, she couldn’t find it in her heart to chastise him.

Harry too adored him, but unfortunately spent little time with him. When Jeremy got up in the morning, Harry was sleeping, and Jeremy was asleep again by the time Harry stopped working in the evening. So the little boy got almost none of a father’s much-needed discipline. Harry wasn’t about when the toddler washed his rubber duck in the toilet or painted the walls with lipstick. And Lily only laughed at his antics. On the days when he helped her plant seeds, he somehow got more into his mouth than into the ground, but by the time she could say, “Jeremy, spit those out!” he had already swallowed them.

One morning in November as she sat feeding him breakfast, she was suddenly overcome by a feeling of nausea. Although it wore off rather quickly, the same thing happened again the next morning, and without having seen Dr. Hansen Lily knew that she was pregnant.

Nothing could have thrilled her more.

But nothing could have thrilled Harry less.

“Lily, we just can’t afford another baby right now! You know I’ve been working my tail off, night and day, and I still haven’t been able to make any real money.”

“For heaven’s sake, how much does it cost to feed a little tiny baby?”

“It isn’t just the money. Lily, until I get on my feet, we shouldn’t be taking on any more responsibilities.”

“But I’m already pregnant.”

Harry sat silent for a moment. Maybe he should give up his attempts at writing. Call his father and go to work in the bank. If only the timing in his life hadn’t been so bad. If only he had become established as an author before he met Lily, everything would have been so different. Instead, his lack of success had eroded his confidence and now with a second child he feared he would never be able to take the time off to finish that novel. It was like a conspiracy against him.

As if she knew what he was thinking, Lily impulsively put her arms around him, whispering, “Be happy, Harry. It’s the greatest gift I could give you.”

And it was, dammit! He would never forget how he had felt, holding Jeremy in his arms at that moment of birth.

“I am, darling—truly, I am.”

Suddenly they were aware of Jeremy’s presence as he tugged at his mother’s skirt. Looking down at him, Harry smiled.

Andrew Kohle was born at Mount Sinai Hospital on June 18, 1935. A late spring rain pelted heavily against the windows. That was another omen, Harry thought. His children always seemed to be born when it was raining. But this time he’d insisted on bringing Lily to New York City to stay with Randolph the week before the baby was due. He wasn’t chancing any more home deliveries. He and Randolph were sitting in the waiting room when the nurse announced, “Mr. Kohle? It’s a boy.”

“Isn’t he wonderful?” Lily said when Harry was allowed into her room.

“Yes, of course, darling. But let me tell you, Lily, this has got to be the last for a while. We can’t afford any more children.”

Having a second child made Harry feel his deficiencies as a provider even more keenly, and he wrote feverishly, submitting one article after another.

But something was wrong. Half of the articles he submitted now were rejected. Was he slipping or was he writing the wrong kind of material? He didn’t realize that in his drive to sell his work, his style had become forced and mechanical. Instead of sharing his worries with Lily, he became cross and withdrawn. After every fight he begged her forgiveness, but the tension in the house kept mounting.

But there were other storm clouds on their horizon. In spite of Lily’s care, she became pregnant again. In no uncertain terms, Harry made his feelings clear. She had no right at all to have more children, knowing how he felt. Harry was furious at first, but he knew, on reflection, the responsibility was as much his as hers. Over the next months, his attitude softened. When he saw his new son, named after Randolph, Lily’s favorite cousin, Harry was again filled with love for his offspring. “Oh, Lily, he’s just wonderful.”

“You mean it, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes.”

Randolph himself handed out the cigars proudly, as though he were the father. Secretly he thought the child looked just like him, and when he cradled little Randy in his arms, he almost felt that this was his own baby. Randolph lavished gifts on the child and sent Lily a luxurious full-length mink coat.

Even she didn’t know that he could never have any children of his own. His diabetes had left him impotent and until now he had channeled all his energies and dreams into the Goodhue Rubber Company, of which he was president and principal shareholder. With little Randolph’s birth, he found another outlet for his love and he determined to do everything in his power to see that the child had a happy life.

Although Harry had accepted the baby with love, his obsession with making a living became frenzied. Night after night he sat at his desk until the early hours of the morning. There were now five people to be fed and provided for, and the expenses seemed enormous, no matter how frugal Harry and Lily tried to be. Harry found it hard to be philosophical when unpaid bills were staring him in the face. And the worst thing was that Lily didn’t understand his anxiety at all.

She kept repeating, “We have our little nest egg.”

But Harry knew that the nest egg was inexorably dwindling. One didn’t have to be a Wall Street banker to understand that if more went out than came in, eventually there would be nothing left. Sometimes when he watched her from his window, as she frolicked with the boys, he felt his stomach churn with anger. How could she be so carefree? He decided she could enjoy her family because he had the burden of responsibility for them. They didn’t even share that. And his most crushing realization was that he would never be able to finish his novel; with three children, it was a ridiculous dream. The most he could hope for in terms of a writing career was a steady income from his articles.

Gradually his sales picked up and the terrifying pile of bills began to diminish. But his newfound peace of mind was short-lived. Perhaps it was God’s will, but in spite of her care, Lily found herself pregnant again, scarcely a year and a half after Randy’s birth.

This time there was no controlling Harry’s rage. “God damn it, Lily! How could you have allowed this to happen?”

“It wasn’t my fault, Harry. I was careful! You can’t blame me if it didn’t work.”

“Who am I supposed to blame? I know you, Lily,” he said in an accusing tone. “You weren’t willing to wait a few years, were you?”

“Willing? I didn’t plan this!”

“The hell you didn’t! You’d like to have a dozen kids. Well, I’m not a stud, and I don’t want to be a father anymore! I don’t want this baby.”

“But it’s ours, Harry!”

“I don’t want it.” Fists clenched, he stalked out of the room.

Hearing the door slam, Lily sat on the bed and gave way to tears. When he finally returned, Lily was in bed, pretending to be asleep. She heard him undressing in the dark and hoped that he would take her in his arms, but he eased onto his side of the mattress and turned his back on her.

The next eight months witnessed a growing rift between the Kohles. Since all the precautions Lily claimed to have taken had failed, Harry made up his mind that he was going to abstain from sex altogether. At this point, it was a little like locking the barn door after the horse had been stolen, but Harry was angry enough to carry out his threat. His fury abated only after the baby was born: a beautiful little girl they named Melissa. When they took her back to the farm he did his best to pretend she’d been a happy surprise; but even though he and Lily tried to act as if nothing had changed, there was a rift in the marriage neither could deny.

Lily was absorbed in the new baby, who bore an uncanny resemblance to her violet-eyed grandmother. In a burst of sentimentality, Lily asked Harry if she could take the children to see his parents. To make up for his unreasonable behavior during her pregnancy he acquiesced. Thus began a pattern of visits during which Harry stayed home and worked while Lily took the children in to see Elise and Benjamin. The adults maintained a formal chatter, all three careful never to touch upon Harry’s writing or the fact he never came. Still, Lily felt she was doing the right thing, and she noticed that on her return Harry did his best to spend more time with the children.

There was no question he was enchanted by his daughter, whose smiles could cheer him out of the darkest moods. Unfortunately for Harry, children do not always remain chubby, adorable, vulnerable little creatures who make a parent feel strong and protective. By the time Melissa began to walk, it seemed to Harry that the boys were becoming unruly hooligans. Jeremy was relatively docile, but Drew was a hellion, and Randy was almost as bad. Even dainty little Melissa had terrible tantrums. And whenever he attempted to discipline them, Lily protected them like a lioness defending her cubs.

Harry found it harder and harder to concentrate on his writing. For the third time in as many months they were forced to dip into the nest egg to pay bills. As the bills mounted up, Harry grew increasingly tense. Jeremy, who was starting school in the fall, needed clothes and shoes, and Harry knew it was only the beginning.

There were the constant doctor bills—Lily ran to the pediatrician at the first sneeze, and if one child came down with something, they all caught it.

Harry believed a man’s success was measured by the way he provided for his family, and each birthday became one more reminder that his chances of success were growing dimmer. Luxury be damned! He wasn’t even able to take out an insurance policy for his family. What would happen to them if he died? He shuddered to think about it. And he couldn’t forget that he had cost Lily her inheritance.

With all his anxieties, it was impossible for him to be the understanding, patient father he wanted to be. In the summer, when the children were out of doors most of the time, it was fairly tolerable. But in the winter the constant noise made it impossible to work at all. One day he reached the breaking point. He unlocked his door, jerked it open, and yelled at the top of his lungs, “God damn it, go to your rooms if you can’t be quiet!”

Lily quickly gathered the children up and took them into the kitchen. “Now children, Daddy needs a little peace and quiet. He can’t work with you screaming like that.”

Unused to being chastised, they started to protest. “We didn’t do anything, Mommy!”

As usual, Lily smiled and said, “I know you didn’t. How about if you play hide-and-seek in the attic? But first I’ll make you some hot chocolate.”

It worked for that day, but in spite of Lily’s best efforts, the scenes became daily occurrences. The children were simply not used to minding her, and their games invariably erupted into the hall outside Harry’s study.

What aggravated him most was that he was the one who always came off looking like the ogre.

One night he paced the floor till five in the morning, then lay down on the sofa in the study. Waking after a bare two hours’ sleep, he sat at the desk once again with a mug of strong black coffee. He had just begun a particularly important paragraph when Jeremy opened the door.

“Daddy, can you get my kite out of the tree now?” he asked hopefully.

Harry started, then, in a burst of fury, he caught the little boy by the arms and shook him so hard that his teeth rattled. At the sound of his cries, Lily leapt from her bed and rushed downstairs.

“Harry, what on earth do you think you’re doing?”

Suddenly Harry stopped. Good God, was he losing his mind? Jeremy had done nothing and now he was weeping, terrified, the red, angry marks on his upper arms beginning to show.

Lily picked up her son and rushed from the room. For the rest of the day, the house was unnaturally silent. Lily read to the children and played with them in the attic, bringing them homemade fudge, cookies, and milk to help keep them quiet.

Harry sat in his study, beset by guilt. His failures weighed him down. He was a bad father, an inadequate provider, and a man given to self-indulgent tantrums. He couldn’t forget the look on Lily’s face as she had taken Jeremy away. Here she was, struggling to create a home in this godforsaken place while he did nothing but complain. She said she loved him—but how long would she be able to live with him under these circumstances? His father’s words came back to haunt him: “You’ll see, Harry, how long love lasts without money.”

He felt as if his marriage was indeed bankrupt. He had already taken Lily’s chance at a brilliant marriage, her inheritance, her lovely youth. She had paid for their house, borne his children, worked like a charwoman, and he couldn’t even keep a civil tongue in his head. The time had come for him to face reality.

Harry rolled a blank sheet of paper into the Royal and typed,
Dear Father,
then sat wondering how to phrase his capitulation.

After the children had been put to bed, Lily came quietly into the study and seated herself in the worn leather chair. Life had not been easy, and just because she refrained from complaining didn’t mean she was immune to the hardships. Yet somehow it didn’t seem all that grim to Lily. She had taken their troubles in stride, happy with the life she had chosen. As long as she had Harry and her children, the rest of the world could go hang. But she no longer could bear to see Harry so unhappy. She, too, had decided the time had come to face reality.