79 Park Avenue (8 page)

She smiled at him. "The candy is deUdous, Uncle Peter.**

"I'm glad you Uke it, child," he said.

I

Book One. Marja 75

Katti had gone over to the stove. "Marja," she said over her shoulder as she poured the coffee, "how would you like Uncle Peter as a father?"

Peter saw the child's eyes widen. There was an expression there he couldn't fathom. "What do you mean, Mama?" she asked in a suddenly hurt voice.

Katti was smiling as she brought the coffee to the table. "I mean your Uncle Peter and me," she said. "We're going to get married."

"Oh, no!" Marja's voice was an anguished cry.

They both stared at her in surprise. She was standing, and the box of candy spilled to the floor in front of her.

Katti's voice grew stem. "Marja," she snapped, "you don't understand now, but you will when you grow up. It's not good for a woman to be alone without a man to take care of her and the children."

Marja was crying. "But, Mama! We were getting along. The two of us. We don't need nobody." She wiped at her eyes with her hands. "Nobody can take Papa's place."

Katti's voice was still gentle. "Nobody will, my child. It's just that Uncle Peter wants to be good to us. He loves us and wants to take care of us."

Marja turned to him savagely. "I don't believe it!" she screamed. "He's a funny, dirty, little black man, not like Papa at all!!'

Katti's voice grew stem. "Marja," she snapped, "you mustn't talk like that to your new father."

"He's not my father!" Marja shouted. "And he never will be!" She turned and ran into her room just off thekitchen and slammed the door.

They stared at each other helplessly after she left. Silently Peter sat down at the table. She's wild, he was thinking. Henry had been right when he said Marja had a temper.

She would need some handling. He would take care of her after they were married. A few red marks on that pretty little behind and she would be all right.

Katti came around the table and put her hand on his shoulder. "Don't feel bad, Peter," she said. "She's all upset. Just yesterday she started bleeding. You know how young girls are at that time.''

Chapter 7

THE DULL gray light of morning, filtered through the tiny courtyard, crept through the window as Katti opened the door. She stood a moment in the doorway looking at her daughter.

She wondered at the sight of Marja sleeping. Awake, she was almost a woman; now she was like a child. Her features were relaxed and soft, her breath so gentle it barely moved the light cover across her chest. This was the Marja she knew, her quiet, lovely litde baby.

She moved into the room and turned to the crib. Quickly she touched the baby. A miracle. He was still dry. He made a small sound at her touch. She turned quickly to look at her daughter.

Marja's eyes were open. She was looking at her mother, all the sleep gone from her eyes. "Momin', Mama."

Katti didn't answer. She remembered how she had worried yesterday when Marja didn't come home from school.

Peter had said that she had gone swimming. She hadn't come home until almost eleven o'clock.

Marja sat up in bed, the cover falling to her waist, revealing her nude body. She yawned and stretched, the flesh of her breasts tartlingly white against the red flush where the sun had burned her.

"Marja! Cover yourself!" Katti exclaimed in a shocked voice. "How many times have I told you you must not go to sleep without your pajamas? It's not nice."

"But, Mama, it was so hot." Marja reached for the pajama top and Nlipped into it as she spoke. "Besides, nobody's going to see me."

"I don't care!" Katti insisted. "It's not decent to sleep like that. Only animals do it."

Marja kicked back the covers and got out of bed, the pajama top falling to her thighs. She walked over to her mother and kissed her cheek. "Don't be mad. Mama," she said.

In spite of herself, Katti smiled. She pushed her daughter away. "Don't try to make up to me," she said. "I know aU your tricks."

Marja smiled back at her mother. "I went swimming yesterday," she said quickly, anticipating her mother's next question. "See my sunburn?"

"I saw," Katti answered dryly. "How could I miss?"

"FraQcie's friend has a place in Coney Island," Marja explained. "It's a house in Sea Gate."

Katti was impressed. "Sea Gate?" she breathed. "That's very expensive. Her family must be very rich."

"They are," Marja said. She didn't correct her mother's assumption that Francie's friend was a girl. 'They live on Park Avenue."

The baby began to cry suddenly. Katti bent over the crib

and picked him up. The baby stopped crying and gurgled at her. *'Still, you should have come home to tell me," Katti said over the baby's head to Marja. "I was worried about you."

"There wasn't time, Mama," Marja answered. "We went right after school."

"But you didn't come home until after ten thirty," Katti said, placing the baby on Marja's bed. Defdy she began to remove his diaper.

Marja took a fresh diaper from the top of the old dresser and handed it to her mother. "She wanted me to eat with her, Mama," she answered, "so I did."

Katti glanced at her quickly out of the corners of her eyes. "Don't do it again," she said quietly. "Your father was worried."

A cold look came into Marja's eyes. "Why?" she queried sarcastically. "He run out of beer?"

"Marja!" Katti spoke sharply. "That's no way to talk about your father."

Marja went to the closet and took out a worn bathrobe, which she slipped into. "He's not my father," she said stubbornly.

Katti sighed. "Why do you keep saying that, Marja?" she asked in a hurt voice. "He loves you and wants you to love him. He can't help it if you don't try to like him."

Marja didn't answer. She picked up her toothbrush from a glass tumbler on the dresser and walked to the door. She stopped there and looked back at her mother. "I'll make Peter's bottle," she said.

In the kitchen, she put the baby's bottle in a pan of water on the stove. She turned on the flame beneath it and went to the sink. Quickly, efficiently, she washed herself, then picked up the botde and went back into her room.

"Give Peter the bottle," Katti said, getting up from the bed. "I'll go make your breakfast. I don't want you to be late for school."

Marja bent over the baby, holding the bottle in her hand. She laughed at him. "Want yuh breakfast, Peter?"

Peter's dark little eyes smiled at her. His tiny hands reached for the bottle, a smile spUtting his toothless mouth.

"Yuh're so pretty," she said, putting the bottle to his mouth.

He gurgled happily, his hps closing over the long rubber nipple. A tiny trickle of milk ran down from the corner of his mouth.

"Slob," Marja laughed, wiping him with the towel she still held in her hand. She looked down at him. "Think you can keep from falling ofi the bed while Marja gets dressed?" she asked.

Peter sucked happily at the bottle.

She straightened up, the baby's dark eyes following her. "I guess you can manage," she said, smiling. She went over to the dresser and took out some clothing.

She threw off the bathrobe and slipped out of the pajama top. Deftly, in almost the same motion, she stepped into her panties and reached for the brassiere on the dresser. A flash of light caught her eye, and she looked into the mirror over the dresser.

The door behind her was open and she could see into the kitchen. Her stepfather was seated at the table, watching her. A look of contempt came into her face. He dropped his eyes.

Still watching him, she slipped the brassiere straps over her arms and fastened it. Then she turned and walked to the door. He looked up again. She stood there silently a moment, then closed the door quickly and finished dressing.

Peter had finished his bottle. She picked him up gaily and went out into the kitchen. Her stepfather was no longer there.

Katti put a bowl of cereal on the table and held out her arms for the baby. "He finish the bottle?" she asked.

Marja nodded. She handed Peter to her mother and sat down. "Oatmeal again?" she asked, staring into the bowl.

"Oatmeal is good for you," Katti said. "Eat it."

Marja made no move toward the food. She wanted a cigarette. She looked at her mother speculatively, wondering if she dared light one before breakfast. She decided against the idea. "I'm not hungry," she said.

Her stepfather had come back into the kitchen. "Isn't oatmeal good enough for your rich tastes?" he asked clumsily. "Maybe you'd prefer ham and eggs?"

Marja stared up at him coldly. "To tell the truth," she said, "I would."

"Isn't that too bad?" he queried sarcastically. He turned to Katti. "I think she's ashamed because we're too poor to afford it."

Marja's eyes were wide. "We wouldn't be if you could tear yourself away from the beer long enough to go to work," she said blandly.

Peter held out his hands hopelessly toward his wife. "Respect for her parents she ain't got," he said. "Only insults. That what she learns bumming around to all hours of the night?"

"Respect for my parents I have," Marja said swiftly. "Not for you."

"Marja! Stop!" her mother spoke sharply.

"Tell him to stop pickin' on me," she answered sullenly, picking up her spoon. She tasted the oatmeal. It was dull and flat.

"Your father is right," Katti continued. "You should speak to him nicer. He's only thinking of you—"

"Crap!" Marja exploded, throwing down her spoon. "The only one he ever thinks about is himself!" She got to her feet. "If he was half a man, he wouldn't let you be out working all night while he sat around the house in his B.V.D.'s He's nothin' but a leech!"

Katti moved quickly, her hand a blur against the gray-white walls. The slap echoed resoundingly in the suddenly quiet kitchen.

Marja's hand was against her cheek, the red flush spreading quickly around the white fingermarks. There was a strange look of wonder in her eyes. "You hit me," she said to her mother, a tone of horror in her voice.

Katti looked at her. She could feel a lump coming into her throat. She realized that this was the first time she had ever slapped her daughter. "To teach you respect for your parents," she said in a suddenly shaking voice.

Marja's eyes seemed to fill, and for a moment Katti thought that her daughter was about to cry. But no tears fell. Instead, a coldness came into them, an icy, chilling calm that told her Marja had grown up and gone away from her.

"Marja!" she said in an appealing voice and took a step toward her.

Marja stepped back. "I'm sorry, Mother," she said softly. It was almost as if she were apologizing for striking her mother. "I'm terribly sorry."

She turned and went quiedy out the kitchen door.

Katti turned to Peter. She could hear Marja's steps hurrying down the stairway. She began to cry. ''What have I done, Peter? What have I done to my baby?"

He didn't move toward her. There was a distant echo of triumph in his voice. "What you should have done long ago, Katti. You did right."

She looked at him. "You really think so, Peter?" she asked, lapsing into Polish.

He nodded his head, a satisfaction deep in his eyes. "Yes."

She stared at him. The baby in her arms began to cry. Automatically she began to soothe him. She wanted to believe her husband. She wanted to feel she had been right. But no matter how much she wanted to believe, somewhere deep inside her lurked a preying doubt.

Chapter 8

THE TELEPHONE began to ring just as Marja came in the door. "Fll get it, Mr. Rannis," she called. "It's for me."

She pulled the door of the booth closed and picked up the receiver. "Hello."

"Marja?" Ross's voice was thin through the receiver,

"Yeah," she answered.

"Ross," he said.

"I know," she answered.

^'What are you doin'?" he asked.

"Nothin'," she answered. "It's too hot."

"Want to go for a ride?" he asked. "We'll go up Riverside Drive. It's cool there."

"Okay," she said.

"I'll pick you right up," he said quickly. "Wait there for me."

"No—" She hesitated. "I gotta go home first an' change. My dress is soakin'. I'll meet yuh someplace."

"At the garage," he said. "Eighty-third between Park an' Lex. WiU you be long?"

"Half-hour," she said. "So long."

"So long," he answered.

She heard the click of his phone before she replaced the receiver. She came out of the booth.

Mr. Rannis was standing there. He looked at her suspiciously. "Who was that?"

"A friend," she answered noncommittally. She started toward the door.

He put out a hand and stopped her. "How about a Milky Way?"

She shook her head. "No, thanks." She started to move again, but his hand tightened on her arm.

"I'm not askin' for money," he said.

She smiled. "Wouldn't do you no good. I'm flat." She pulled her arm free. "Besides, I gotta go. My mother is expectin' me."

Reluctantly he watched her go to the door. "Don't forget, Marja," he called. " 'f you want anything, all you gotta do is ask me."

"Thanks, Mr. Rannis," she said as she went out the door. "I'U keep it in mind."

Katti was coming out the door as Marja reached the steps to her house. She stood there watching the sun glint in her daughter's hair. She waited until Marja was halfway up the stoop before she spoke. "Hello, Marja."

Marja's voice was quiet. "Hello, Mama."

"Everything go all right in school today?" Katti asked.

Marja glanced quickly at her mother. "Yeah," she answered. "Why shouldn't it?"

Katti felt herself thrown on the defensive. "I was just asking," she answered. She wanted to say she was sorry for

what had happened that morning, but she couldn't make the words come from her lips.

"Where yuh goin'?" Marja asked.

"Shopping," Katti answered. She was. lying. But she didn't want her daughter to know she was going to the clinic for an examination. "What are you doing this afternoon?"

"I'm goin' over to a friend's house to study," Marja answered. "I just came home to get out of these things. I'm all sweated up."