1929 (15 page)

“I punched someone for Caleb one time,”
Arianna bragged.

Maura smirked at her. “That doesna surprise
me, dear.” She turned back to Ava, prodding her to continue.

“We left together, and he took me for coffee
while I calmed down before going home. The whole time he kept
looking at me with this off-kilter smile, and we talked very late
into the night. Later, he walked me to my door and explained to my
cousins where I’d been. They weren’t happy that I had ended it with
Victor, but I think they hoped for something to come about with
Jonathan because they didn’t give me too much trouble about it. The
next evening, my cousin called me downstairs and Jonathan was
standing at the door with that same silly smile. There were two,
large men standing on either side of the front steps. He never
explained to my cousins who those men were, but asked me to dinner
that night. Later, he told me not to worry about Victor ever
bothering me again because those men he hired would protect me. And
they stood there every night until we were married a year later.”
She let out a deep breath and smiled. “See, I told you it was a
long story.”

“So, after yer telling me all that an’ how
Mr. Jonathan went to such great lengths to protect ye from that
odious bastard, did ye honestly expect him to just casually mention
whilst movin’ yer things in that the previously mentioned bastard
was now yer landlord? I’m sorry, Miss Ava, but I do understand why
he would save ye from that as long as possible. Especially seein’
how he can’t be providin’ the big men to stand at yer door no
longer. Imagine how helpless that makes him feel now.”

Ava looked down, suddenly feeling guilty for
her actions that afternoon; the second half of the afternoon
anyway. Claire and Arianna remained very quiet, having only
occasionally patted Ava’s hand through the story that was difficult
for her to tell.

“I tell ye what, Miss Ava. I’m going to go
put the chicken I brought in the pot to boil, and I’m going to send
Mr. Jonathan in here to talk to ye. When ye come out, I expect
things to be right between ye both. Understand?” Ava nodded
obediently. Even if she didn't want to make up with Jonathan, she
wouldn’t refuse Maura’s orders. Although she was only a few years
older than Ava, Maura had an authoritative and wise, motherly tone.
Claire and Arianna followed Maura out. A moment later, Jonathan
appeared sheepishly in the doorway. Just as he was closing the door
behind him, Maura screeched, “What’s happened to me chicken?!”

∞∞∞

The boredom of the first days in the tenement
ended abruptly, replaced with monotonous and time-consuming tasks.
Doing laundry was a daunting undertaking; scalded hands wrung out
clothes in the sink and then hung them close to the fireplace on a
rope strung across the room to dry. Constant mopping was required
under the clothes as they dripped during the first hours. Firewood
needed to be fetched to keep a decent fire going, yet the clothes
would still take all day to dry. They were taken down at night and
replaced the next morning with more soggy shirts and dresses.
Baking bread was another daily task that Ava and Claire found
frustrating. Having no experience, they either burned or
undercooked most loaves. Claire had gotten so discouraged that she
resorted to making biscuits for every meal. Ava kept trying, and
Jonathan was very kind about it, blaming the oven or commenting
that her gravy fixed everything, reminding her she could cook gravy
well. Constant sweeping was necessary as the draft brought in dust,
and the leaky bathroom needed cleaning daily to prevent mold. Daily
trips to the grocer for food that created dinners consisting more
and more of a bread-base and vegetables with a small meat addition
for flavoring. They habitually checked the mailbox on the way back
in from shopping to find only an occasional letter from family.
Most of the time, the three would venture out together, although
Arianna had made more excuses lately not to go out with them. When
she did go out, she tended to buy superfluous things, such as food
from the deli and bakery or decorations for the house. She had yet
to attempt to make bread.

November 6th 1929

Ava was sewing buttons onto one of Jonathan’s
work shirts and planned to repair several tears in his work pants.
One of the sleeves on a dress needed repair as she had caught it on
the metal corner of the garbage chute door. It was silent while she
worked, and she pricked herself with the needle when someone
knocked on the door.

She looked through the peephole that Jonathan
had drilled for her as part of his long and sincere apology the
weekend before. Now, neither of them would be surprised at who was
on the other side. She saw the young neighbor, who had been
juggling babies while the beady-eyed one talked on, standing on the
other side with something in her hands.

“Hello, I’m yer next door neighbor, Shannon,”
she said pleasantly as Ava opened the door.

“I remember seeing you talking with our other
neighbor.”

“Well, I dint do much of the talkin’ that
day, but I did see you pass and wanted to wait a proper amount of
time to let you get settled in before introducing myself.” The door
handle on the apartment across the hall jiggled. Ava stepped aside,
quickly waved Shannon in and closed the door as softly as possible.
Both women giggled quietly as they listened to the beady-eyed one
investigating with heavy footsteps up and down the hall. They heard
her slam her door and they let out a breath of relief.

“I brought you this as a welcome gift,”
Shannon said, holding out a round loaf of soda bread.

“Thank you. How kind. I’m Ava.” She shifted
the bread to extend her hand. “Would you like to sit down?” Ava
asked, suddenly flustered and very embarrassed of her home. Shannon
was unaffected by the drab surroundings and commented on Ava’s
green velvet drapes covering the living room window as she sat on
the edge of the couch.

“How lovely,” she said, pointing to them.

“Thank you. Would you like some tea?” Ava
offered, having not completely forgotten how to be a polite
hostess.

“That’d be wonderful,” Shannon said and
smiled. She had light-green eyes and strawberry-blonde curls that
bounced when she made the slightest movement. Her frame was small
but sturdy, and her accent reminded Ava of Maura.

“So, are ye settlin’ in good?” Shannon asked.
Ava almost laughed, but quickly remembered that this woman knew
nothing of her former life. She set the water on to boil and walked
back in the living room.

“I think so. It’s been an adjustment, to say
the least.”

“We’ve been here a little over a year,”
Shannon volunteered. “We didn’t want to move, it being farther away
from Patrick’s work and all and the rents’ much more, but our last
building flooded, so we had no choice. It isn’t very bad. There’s
the talkative one with all the ailments across the way from you,
and another new couple down the hall, and then there’s a really
nice Italian family on the next floor. The wife taught me how to
make pasta. She mostly showed me because I could hardly understan’
a word she said. There’s another family upstairs, but they keep to
themselves and then that new couple.”

“Oh, those are our friends, Claire and Aryl
and down the hall are Arianna and Caleb. We all came here
together.”

“Really now? Did you live close by before,
too?”

“Yes, we all lived within a block of each
other.”

“In what building? Maybe I know of it?”
Shannon asked.

“Well, we didn’t live in buildings. We lived
over near, well, uptown.” Shannon’s eyes widened slightly as Ava
handed her a steaming cup of tea and glanced back at the velvet
drapes and stylish floor radio. She started to put the pieces
together.

“I had a much different life a couple of
weeks ago,” Ava offered.

“Was it the crash I read about in the paper?”
Shannon asked intuitively. Ava nodded, her eyes automatically
focusing on the fire. “I’m so sorry. I hear there are a lot of
folks like that.” Ava nodded but couldn’t talk more about it,
knowing she would break down. She felt her eyes sting and needed to
change the subject.

“How old are your babies?” Ava asked
quickly.

“Aislin is just three years last month, and
Roan is three months. Aislin is the spittin’ image of her Da and
just as energetic. She runs all day and then just drops for a
nappie, out solid for two hours. And smart, too. And Roan is truly
the most well-mannered baby that ever lived. He’s had a touch of
colic but still doesn’t fuss much, and he already sleeps through
the night,” Shannon said proudly. “And you?” she asked, although
she hadn’t noticed any obvious signs of children.

“No, we don’t have any,” Ava said, again
touching on a subject that made her eyes sting momentarily.

“Aye, newlyweds. That’s all the more tragic
for what’s happened to ye,” Shannon said sympathetically.

“Oh, no, we’ve been married over three
years.” Shannon suddenly looked uncomfortable and fidgeted with her
teacup handle.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said solemnly.

“Sorry for what?”

“Well, I dint mean to be insensitive, talking
of my own, when ye can’t.” It took Ava a few seconds to realize
Shannon was under the impression she was unable to have
children.

“Oh, no, it’s all right,” she said, smiling.
“I’m fairly certain everything is in working order.”

“But then how have you managed to not have a
babe for three years?” she asked, baffled. Then it came to her
before Ava could find a dignified answer, and she blurted it out,
“Ah. I know. Surely you were able to afford those fancy man covers.
We couldn’t afford those even if the Church allowed it,” she said,
casually taking a sip of tea. Ava turned three shades of red,
played with the hem of her apron, and Shannon laughed.

“I’m so sorry, I dint mean to embarrass you.
Sometimes I just spit out exactly what’s on me mind without
thinkin’.” Ava smiled.

“Why don’t I cut us some of that bread?” She
stepped quickly to the kitchen, eyes misting for the third time.
Shannon’s accent and mannerisms made her miss Maura terribly. She
looked up at the bread recipe that Maura had written in pen
directly on the cracked, whitewashed cabinet door. She remembered
what she had said that night after they all ate the chicken dinner.
Since I won’t be round to find all the things ye tend to lose, Miss
Ava, I’ll write it on here. Doubt you’ll be misplacing an entire
kitchen cubby.

She looked down, horrified to see a bug
scurrying close to the soda bread. She swiped it off the counter
with a dishrag and tried to step on it discreetly, hoping Shannon
wouldn’t notice. She cut the bread, buttered it, and then put the
remaining loaf in the oven to be safe from insects until dinner.
She carried it back to the couch where Shannon was eying the drapes
and radio.

“That’s the loveliest radio I think I’ve ever
seen,” she said, stepping behind the couch to admire it closer.
“Can we listen?” she asked eagerly.

“Of course,” Ava said and smiled as Shannon
turned it on and tuned the dial before Ava could do it for her. She
found an Irish music program.

“My little radio doesn’t get good reception
in this building, so I don’t get to listen as much since we moved
here.” Shannon made her way back to the couch, not wanting to take
her eyes off the oak box.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Ava began,
trying to find proper words for her question. “If your church
doesn’t allow the, the–”

“Man covers,” Shannon helped.

“Yes, the man covers, how on earth do you
avoid it?” Shannon laughed.

“Well, now, we really haven’t avoided it,
have we? Married five years with the two babes sleeping next door.
And no, even if we could afford such things, tis against the
church.” Ava waited for an answer to her original question for a
reason. The small supply of protection they had brought with them
two weeks ago was almost gone, and they were no longer able to
afford to run to the druggist to buy more. Even if things continued
in the infrequent pattern that they had, they would be gone by the
end of the month.

“Well, we try, anyway, to pay attention to
the calendar. We have to wait for the safe week.”

“The safe week?”

“Aye. There’s one week that tis safe with
little worry of bringin’ a wee one. Hardest part is waitin’ for
that week.”

“How do you know? When the safe week is, I
mean?”

“Well, you count starting with yer– Do ye
have a calendar? Tis easier to show ye.” Ava jumped up to get a
calendar she had drawn on one of Arianna’s sheets of pink
stationery.

“Okay,” Shannon said, scooting closer to Ava,
holding the calendar and pointing. “Start with the first day of the
curse. Say if that’s here.”

“Wait,” Ava interrupted, “Can I go get my
friends? They need to know this.”

“Of course, I’ll wait here, you go run and
get them.”

Arianna looked like she had just crawled out
of bed, dark smudges under her eyes and matted black hair. She
threw on a sweater and hat reluctantly and trudged behind Ava.
Claire was in her paint-splattered smock, and her eyes were still
red from a morning cry, but she put on a cheerful face. Ava briefly
and tactfully explained what the impromptu ladies’ meeting was
about.

“Sure, I’d love to,” she told Ava. “I’ve been
worried about that myself. Three more strikes and we’re out.” She
laughed as she pulled off her smock. Arianna stood numbly in the
doorway, and Ava waited in the living room while she changed
dresses and found a sweater. Ava looked over the mural above the
fireplace. The lighthouse was beginning to take on a life of its
own. Red and white stripes wrapped around the tall chimney with a
large, lantern room above it, not yet colored. The light coming
from the center was a most vivid yellow, which stretched out
several inches from the pencil-sketched lamp source and illuminated
a path in the face of the squall. Claire had been working on the
rocks at the base of the lighthouse; jagged, menacing-looking black
and gray rocks, swallowed in places by crashing, white-tipped
waves. The billows to the right of the lighthouse had fully taken
shape and the clouds furthest out, jet black and ominous, swirled
like those of a hurricane over the ocean, taking direct aim at the
lighthouse.