1929 (56 page)

“I need to talk to you,” she said hesitantly,
wary of his jovial appearance.

“About what?”

“Sit down,” she invited politely.

“Whatever it is, just buy it or fire them or
sell it.” He held out his arms wide. “Makes no difference to me.”
He causally turned to leave her in the parlor.

“It’s about Jonathan,” Ruth blurted out
awkwardly and he halted and slowly turned toward her. It scared
her, the look in his eyes; although no longer distant and loathing,
something worse now replaced it.

“What about Jonathan?” he asked. Instantly,
he wondered if his new employee’s services would be needed again.
If Ruth would be one of those tragic loose ends he would be forced
to clip and he grinned wide. Makes no difference to me, he reminded
himself.

“I need to know where he is,” she said
feebly.

“Miss him, my dear?” Victor sat down slowly,
watching her distrustfully.

“Of course not. I love . . . you, Victor,”
she said and smiled sweetly to cover her fear.

“Then why on earth would you need to know
where he is?” he said and smiled sweetly to cover his rage. He was
faking his suspicion–he knew she wanted to warn him, like she had
before he left. She was lucky to be alive right now. The thought
had crossed his mind to have her neck broken when he discovered
Jonathan had, most likely as a result of her last secret visit,
abandoned the apartment and ruined his first set of plans. But her
best friend’s husband had suffered considerable losses recently,
and anyone could be bought. There had been scarcely a moment of any
day, especially when Jonathan had lived near, that Victor did not
know exactly where Ruth was, had been or planned to go. And Ruth
had no idea the vast number of eyes that watched her daily.

She held out two letters. Slightly trembling
hands betrayed her relaxed expression. He leaned back and began
reading them. Short letters of swirly handwriting; the first an
introduction simply requesting information, the second begged for
information and explained in detail why it was needed. Victor’s
solid face ruptured into a smile as he read. He chuckled dryly
once, and then roars of delight followed hard laughter.

Minutes later, he scooped the letters from
the floor, wiped his eyes, and apologized politely. “Oh! I'm sorry,
but this is simply too good to be true.” He broke into hilarity
again as he handed the letters back.

“I didn’t think it funny in the least. It’s
tragic really.” She felt disgust at how he always found humor in
the misfortune of others. His eyes and mouth dropped into anger
again, and his eyes targeted her ruthlessly.

“To me, it’s hilarious. And justified. Now
what to do about it, though?” he deliberated aloud as he paced.
“I’ll have to postpone my plans, of course, but it will be worth it
to sit back and enjoy the calamity. Just for a while until it bores
me.” He shrugged.

“Why do you hate him so much?” The second she
spoke, she regretted it as his hand shot out and grabbed hold of
her throat.

“You know why,” he sneered. “You want me to
repeat it? You want to hear the whole story again?” he snarled just
inches from her face. “You enjoy it, don’t you?” Eyes bulging, she
tried to deny it, to shake her head, struggling to breathe. In a
crazed trance, Victor went on, “How he won the apprenticeship with
his ass-kissing attitude and then had me thrown out, condemning me
from proper society to rule over slums, prolific as that may have
turned out to be.”

The drastic change in tone to upbeat with his
last sentence sent cold through Ruth’s chest, convinced now that he
had gone mad. His smolder continued to burn.

“Then to walk out with Ava from that dinner
party, after she humiliated me in front of the last group of decent
society that would receive me.” He skimmed her over, repulsed.
“Stuck with his leavings!” he growled and suddenly thrust her away
from him. She gasped for breath, staggered backward and found the
sofa behind her. “Now.” He sat down on the sofa as though nothing
had happened. “Listen very carefully, Ruth. Here is what we’re
going to do about this.”

March 15th 1930

“I think I see them!” Arianna called. The
girls waited with lunch baskets on the pier for the boats to come
back mid-day. Arianna squinted against the bright sunlight
sparkling on the ocean.

“Even if you do, it will be a while before
they pull in,” Claire said. “Anybody have any good gossip?”

“Gossip? Around here? Not likely. Unless it’s
about one of us,” Ava said.

Claire chose that moment to share her news.
“We started trying. For a baby, I mean.”

Ava smiled at her. “So did we.”

“You’re kidding.”

Ava shook her head. “Jon finally talked me
into it.”

“Aryl figures we’ll be in our own place
before I would have any exciting news, and then we’ll have the full
nine months to get things ready.”

Ava narrowed her eyes and tapped her foot.
“They’ve been collaborating. Those are the same things Jon said to
me. It’s a race, that’s what it is. Neither of them wants his son
to be the youngest.” She gave a tsk-tsk, shaking her head.

Arianna yawned and stretched.

“Tired? Not too much longer now,” Claire
said.

“Yes, I’m tired and yes, it’s a while yet.
Three full months still.” She poked back at a tiny foot digging
into her ribs. “Yeah, I’m crowded, too!” she complained in return.
“I’ve been getting up early to have breakfast with Caleb,” she said
after another long yawn.

“He gets up at what? Three am?”

“Four. I talked to his father in secret and
got him to let Caleb use the truck, so he could get home quicker.
His father has been grumbling about all the preparations needed for
planting season, and I pointed out that if Caleb used the truck
then he could help more.”

“Are things any better with them? It must be
awfully uncomfortable,” Ava said, while spreading out a blanket on
the sand.

“It’s better. Hubert is still a stubborn, old
fart. Caleb is the one who has changed. He goes right up to his
father, bold as brass, and says what he needs to or asks something
outright. At first, his father tried to pretend he couldn’t hear
him, so he could keep up the silent treatment. But Ethel fixed
that. Bopped him on the head every time he tried it and now he
answers when he’s spoken to.”

Ava giggled at the thought and asked, “And
things with you two? Better?”

Arianna smiled mischievously. “Much better. I
don’t think he realizes this, but the more I dote on him, the more
he dotes on me. So, when I want more attention or a foot rub or
anything, all I have to do is pay more attention to him. Works
every time. But don’t say anything. That stays between us girls.
Don’t want to spoil a good thing.” She squinted out again over the
open water. “I’m going to rest till they get here. I’m beat.” She
struggled to lie down and kicked off her shoes, letting the sun
warm her face and legs.

Arianna was close to dozing when a shadow
cast over her face and she opened her eyes. Glancing over her,
Caleb grinned.

“If you say beached whale, I’ll kick you
where it counts, and Junior here, will be an only child.” She
pulled up on one elbow, smiling through her threat. Sparing her the
embarrassment of rolling ungracefully, he bent down, slipped an arm
behind her, and pulled her to a sitting position. She tucked her
skirt around herself modestly as he sat down beside her.

“I’m glad you came,” he said and smiled while
rifling through the basket. “I’m starving.” Before she could raise
one eyebrow and purse her lips, he slipped a hand behind her head
and kissed her. “And I’ve missed you since the minute I left.” That
satisfied her well enough, and she began handing out the picnic
lunch. “How’s your day been?” he asked quickly before taking a
large bite of sandwich made with thick wedges of homemade
bread.

“We set a stew on for dinner and made bread.
I finished sewing another four diapers, and I got your shirts
ironed.”

Caleb nodded as she ticked off her list of
productivity. “You didn’t leave nasty creases in the front like
last time, did you?”

“Oh, no, they’re perfect, darling.” She
kissed him on the cheek, leaving a hand on his thigh as she
continued about her morning and plans for the evening.

Jonathan sat with Ava, mouth hanging open
with a large bite of sandwich threatening to fall into his lap. Ava
suppressed a giggle, touched under his chin and he closed his mouth
to chew.

“Caleb said she was more docile, but . . .
.”

Awhile later, he glanced over to see Arianna
on her knees behind Caleb, kneading the muscles of his shoulders.
Caleb let his head fall forward in relaxation. When he rolled it to
the side for Arianna to work on his neck, he gave Jonathan a wicked
look of triumph. Jonathan had to turn away or give away Caleb’s
expression.

Claire and Aryl were sitting ahead of them,
the three couples forming a triangle of blankets on the beach. He
held a sandwich in one hand and a chart in the other, showing
Claire where they had been and where they would go this
afternoon.

“I think we’ll be out for a few days next
week. I want to try this area over here.” The spot on the chart he
pointed to held no significance to Claire. “That might be a good
time to have Arianna’s shower, or you gals could go into town. Pass
the time while we’re gone.”

“How long will you be?”

“Three, maybe four days, this first trip
anyway.” He continued to study the chart as she nestled in
closer.

“I don’t want you gone that long,” she said
quietly but firmly. He kissed her head without taking his eyes from
the map.

“If you girls stay busy, we’ll be back before
you know it.” He dismissed her worry and hadn’t looked up to see
the distress in her eyes.

“I don’t like you being out there at night,”
she said, breaking his concentration.

“It’ll be fine,” he insisted. “We’ve got
everything we need to be comfortable below.” He smiled and ran his
eyes down her torso and back up again. “Well, almost everything.”
He folded the chart and pulled her up. “C’mon. I’ll show you.”

They walked between the blankets. On one
side, Ava sat between Jonathan’s knees, leaning against him,
looking out at the ocean. He locked his arms around her and rested
his head on hers. On the other, Arianna was on her side, with Caleb
lovingly working out the strained muscles of her lower back.

“I’m going to show Claire the boat,” Aryl
said. Caleb gave an exaggerated wink. Aryl rolled his eyes but the
thought of an impromptu rendezvous had crossed his mind. Twice.

It was cozy underneath with barely enough
room for two people to move around. It held a double bunk scarcely
wide or long enough to hold a man, a table, and a cook stove. There
was a storage area under the bottom bunk and a handmade shelf to
the side of the stove, with thin wooden slats on each of the three
tiers to keep objects from flying off in rough seas.

“There are only two beds,” she said. “Who’s
staying home?”

“No one. We’ll sleep in shifts.”

“I just don’t like the idea of you going out
for that long,” she said, her eyes full of concern and her mouth
pulled into a pout.

“It'll be fine. I promise. We’ll be back
before you know it.” He pulled her close in a tight hug and then
nuzzled her neck. “You know, we probably have time to–”

“Aryl!” Jonathan bellowed from the pier.
“Let’s get a move on. Sooner we finish, sooner we can get home.”
Aryl dropped his head with a sigh. “Maybe next time,” he whispered
and kissed her quickly.

They stood on the pier, baskets in hand and
watched as the boat pulled away. Ava couldn’t help but think
Jonathan looked perfectly natural, standing tall and proud at the
wheel, heading out to sea. The thick, wool sweater accentuated his
broad shoulders and arms that, despite the hard work at the
shipping dock, seemed to have gained even more substance since he
began work on the boat. Glancing over the rest of him, she made a
mental note to buy a length of wool for another pair of pants. His
current and only pair of work pants strained at the seams from
added bulk in the thighs and rear as a result of vigorous work
combined with better eating. One good joke from Aryl and she was
afraid they’d split right up the back. She shamelessly lingered on
his rear; tight, gray material where his muscles contracted on
either side as his weight shifted with the slight roll of the boat.
She giggled slightly as her eyes passed over the large, floppy
boots, which gave the appearance of a small boy going out to play
in the mud. Just before she could no longer make out the details of
him, he turned and smiled, the sun glinting off his black hair, and
held up his hand to throw an exaggerated kiss ashore. She pretended
to catch it and waved back.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” she said aloud.

“What’s amazing?” Claire asked, her eyes
still fixed on the boat.

“How great things turned out. In spite of
everything we’ve been through during those awful first few months,
here we are. Our lives are completely different. We’re broke and
living on charity, but,” she said, shrugging, “we’re happy. Strange
as it sounds, life seems real now.”

Claire thought about it as Arianna spoke
up.

“It is real now. And it’s better,” she said
and smiled.

March 22nd 1930

The next week, they left on a Tuesday, as
Aryl had planned, and returned on Saturday morning. Ava was helping
his mother in the garden when she heard the swing of the gate. She
scrambled to her feet, crashed into Jonathan, and covered his
bearded face with kisses. He fully looked the part now; a black sea
bag thrown over his shoulder, a thick, wool sweater dirty and
turned up at the neck, a black knit cap pulled low, the cut of his
jaw obscured by four days worth of beard.