Love of Finished Years

by Gregory Erich Phillips

  “Look what you do to me, darling, now I’ll have to drink them both.”

  Elsa hated to be called darling by him.

  Hal turned back into the room with a glass in each hand. He began to dance again as Dafne joined him. However, he was incapable of dancing with two glasses and a girl. One of the glasses crashed triumphantly to the floor. But the dance went on.

  Sighing, Elsa turned away and walked upstairs. She would clean it up tomorrow, in peace and quiet.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Time Speeds On

  Elsa had nearly restored the apartment to normal when Glenn arrived the next morning. She squinted slightly as she opened the door, letting in the light and heat of the summer morning.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” he said as he entered.

  “It was not your fault.” She closed the door but opened the curtains, wanting to preserve the sunshine.

  “Still, I feel responsible. I’m ashamed of myself.”

  “You were rather silly and careless. But nobody was harmed.”

  “I was not myself. I don’t like that. I won’t do it again.” He sat on the couch with his cap resting on a knee as Elsa resumed the last of the mopping.

  “You do not need to make any promises to me,” she said, then added with a smile, “I am not your mother.”

  “No, you certainly aren’t.”

  “Perhaps she would want me to look out for you, though.” Elsa smiled playfully. “I certainly cannot depend on your friend Mr. Halifax to keep you out of trouble . . . or Dafne, for that matter.”

  She put the mop away and came back. Standing in front of him, she suddenly felt awkward about the informality of their conversation. “Dafne is still in bed, if you were wondering.” She felt she needed to say something about her mistress.

  Glenn tried to glance inconspicuously at the clock.

  “Half past ten,” said Elsa, catching him.

  He laughed. “I forget that the schedules of a military man and a young debutante vary greatly.”

  “I understand. I can never sleep once the sun is up. I imagine you are beginning to feel the same way.”

  He nodded.

  “You don’t think much of Hal, do you?”

  “I hardly know him.” She shifted nervously where she stood.

  “I saw the way you looked at him last night.”

  “I was irritated with him, yes. But I have no right to dislike him.”

  “And yet you don’t like him. Why not?”

  “I do not entirely trust him.” She wished she hadn’t said anything. “I have no reason not to. He is a gentleman, and seems to be sensitive to your relationship with Dafne . . . I will try to like him.”

  Glenn laughed. “You can dislike him if you want. I find him refreshing because he is so different from me. He never makes plans. He claims to be totally amoral. And yet I trust him because I assume he abides by the masculine code of ethics.”

  Elsa finally sat down. “What masculine code is this?”

  “I’ll explain it as best I can: once two men pass the initial bonds of friendship, they become bound to stand up for one another, respect the other’s wife or girlfriend, and help each other out in time of need.”

  “Do all men stand by this?”

  “Not necessarily. But they all know it. If a fellow breaks it, he can be sure never to be trusted within that social circle again.”

  Elsa pondered this glimpse into the intricacies of male society.

  “Hal claims to have no morals. Yet within the distinctions of society and honor, he actually does. There are countless other ways in which we are expected to behave in society, no matter what our beliefs, religion, or anything else. Only a social deviant can truly be amoral.”

  Elsa was fascinated by this new way of thinking about people’s behaviors. She supposed much of the way she had learned to behave was based on society’s expectations rather than her own sense of what was right. How much of it was based on conditioning, and how much on belief, she wasn’t sure, but it was interesting to think about.

  “Have you seen your mother and sister since you’ve been in the city?” Glenn asked, interrupting her thoughts.

  “I have seen my sister and her husband. Their shop is in Yorkville, not very far away. I walked there last weekend. It was good to see them. They have two little boys and a baby daughter now!” Elsa smiled, thinking how quickly time had flown for Sonja and Christof. “I have not been able to see my mother yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “She still lives and works in the Lower East Side. I would need to take the train, and it would have to be on a weekend when she is off work. There simply has not been time. I do intend to see her soon and feel badly that I have not.”

  “Surely Dafne would allow you a day to go.”

  “Oh, yes, she has encouraged it. But Dafne is most busy on the weekends. I do not want to leave her alone.”

  “Perhaps she would go with you. So would I. It would be wonderful to meet your mother. Why not today?”

  “She only works half the day on Saturdays. That was a recent reform for the garment industry.”

  “Then it’s settled. We’ll all go.”

  “Go where?” asked a sleepy voice from up the stairs. Dafne’s slippers made an arrhythmic sound on the steps until she came into view. Her hair was still disheveled from sleep. She rubbed her eyes in the brightness of late morning.

  “To visit Elsa’s old home in the Lower East Side,” Glenn said, standing up. Dafne shuffled toward him and fell onto his chest.

  “Darling, why are you here so early?”

  “It’s not early to me.”

  “My head hurts. Does your head hurt, darling?”

  “No.”

  Dafne titled her face toward Elsa.

  “Does your head hurt?”

  They all laughed.

  “So how about it?” Glenn continued. “Are you up for a trip downtown?”

  “Today? Oh, I couldn’t possibly. I’d never have the strength for the dance tonight. You two go. I’ll rest so I can be fresh and beautiful for you later.”

  Elsa felt awkward that Glenn had pushed so hard for her sake, but was already feeling excited about the prospect of seeing her mother.

  “I’m going to get dressed,” said Dafne. “I can’t let you see me like this.”

  “I already have.”

  “Shut up. Let’s pretend you didn’t.” She padded back upstairs.

  Elsa also went up to her room to change. In a half hour they were on their way.

  Once they were on the downtown elevated train, Elsa suddenly thought how strange it was that she should be traveling alone with a man far above her station. She worried less now than at first about the supposed impropriety of her friendship with Mr. Streppy. Just as Dafne had always done, he treated her as a friend rather than a subordinate. It usually took Elsa to remind them both that she was still a servant. Her mother would surely find it odd.

  Elsa and Glenn’s friendship had been slow in developing. Both of them were quiet and reserved. The first few months of his romance with Dafne they seldom said more than pleasantries to one another. But Dafne, with her love for each of them, eventually cemented their care for one another. As the years passed, Elsa and Glenn had developed a deep understanding that went far beyond their mutual relationship with Dafne.

  She could tell that something was changing in both Dafne and Glenn. It had started some time ago but only became visible since coming to the city. They were both discovering themselves in new ways. Where those discoveries might lead was impossible to predict. Furthermore, the friendship of the three of them had inevitably changed. Glenn wasn’t around much, and Dafne didn’t need Elsa’s friendship the same as before. There were new people for Dafne here, all of whom had exciting things to share with her. Elsa had begun to worry how these changes would eventually affect her.

  Elsa gazed out at the city as the train inched along. It amazed her how quickly the whole city had risen si
nce she’d lived here just a few years ago. The train picked up speed and the buildings started flying by. She was reminded of the solitude of this crowded place. She had spent much of her life in solitude and never considered it loneliness . . . until now.

  While Dafne had found in Elsa a person she could count on for friendship and support, Elsa had grown to enjoy being a constant friend. Now that Dafne had found new support mechanisms, Elsa no longer had anyone to need her. She missed it.

  Soon the train stopped at the Bowery. Elsa had never been to her mother’s new apartment, which she shared with another single woman. But she had written the address on many envelopes and was familiar enough with the neighborhood to walk there without trouble. She worried that her mother, not expecting her, wouldn’t be home. But she was. Nina and Elsa greeted each other joyously.

  Glenn was planning to wait outside, but Elsa wanted him to come in. Nina had read enough of Elsa’s letters to know him immediately, and to feel comfortable welcoming him into her humble home. She didn’t comment on the strangeness of their traveling together.

  Nina had aged in the years since Elsa had seen her. But she was aging happily and looked healthy to Elsa’s eyes. It had been a hard life, but she had much to be content with. She had helped better the conditions for the women working in the factories, while both her daughters had good lives. She said she was at peace working in a small clothing factory, earning enough to support herself and save a little. She hoped in a few years to move north to live with Sonja and her growing family.

  But when Elsa probed, her mother admitted to being tempted to join the women on an upcoming march for suffrage. Rachel Shapiro had told her that New York seemed ready to grant women the vote, even if nationally the measure failed to pass. Elsa encouraged her mother to go on the march. She liked the sparkle she saw in her eyes when she talked about it.

  After they left the apartment, Glenn asked Elsa to show him the places from her past. She hesitated to take up so much of his afternoon, but he insisted. In a taxi they drove by Andretti’s tenement building, which despite the progress of much that surrounded it, looked exactly the same as the first winter the Schullers had spent there. They directed the taxi past St. Mark’s Lutheran Church. Elsa declined Glenn’s suggestion that they step inside. She knew Pastor Reus had retired, and there were no other memories to revisit. The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory had been razed after the fire. Josephine, following her daughter’s death and Elsa’s departure, had moved to Queens to live with relatives willing to take the old widow in. The taxi returned them to the Bowery train station.

  Glenn dozed off briefly on the train trip back uptown. Elsa sat across from him as sunlight sliced through the windows on the west side of the train.

  What a good man! she thought, looking at him. His sleeping face maximized the gentleness of his features, which he sometimes tried to hide behind his masculinity. Elsa hadn’t known many men, but she understood how special Glenn was. To take this time just for her, on one of only three days he had for leave, was a demonstration of his true character. She had grown to deeply care for this man who would marry her mistress. How she hoped the conflict in Europe would end soon so there would be no need for him to go to war.

  Glenn and Hal lumbered into the clubhouse of the Dyker Golf Club. It had been a long game, made longer by Hal’s insistence to stay behind a trio of female golfers. Glenn had continually suggested playing through, but Hal wouldn’t hear of it. So after each hole they stood by the next tee as Hal flirted with the young ladies. Despite the delay, Glenn thoroughly enjoyed the spectacle.

  They sat down heavily at a table. The waiter brought Hal a highball and Glenn a club soda.

  “I don’t believe you haven’t golfed in three years,” said Hal. “By Jim, you’re terrific at it!”

  Glenn laughed. “I had fewer distractions.”

  “Hogwash! You would have beat me handily even if it weren’t for the female rumps ahead of us.”

  Hal took a big sip through his straw. “But seriously, bud, there are more important things in life than golf. You made me do the work of three men out there! I know you’re engaged, but it wouldn’t kill you to flirt a little. Those were some luscious dames!”

  Glenn laughed. “I may be good at golf, but I’ve never been any good at flirting. I’m glad I don’t have to try.”

  “How did you get Dafne, then?”

  “It was very sudden. I certainly never flirted with her.”

  Hal shook his head. They sat at a small table across a corner from each other. Hal looked straight ahead, while Glenn watched him. Hal’s eyes darted around the room, though his head was still. By the time he finished his drink and started another, a cloud had gathered in his expression. Finally he turned toward his friend.

  “We’re getting old, Glenn.” He sounded suddenly panicked.

  “No, we’re not, you idiot.”

  “But we are! I’m twenty-six. Before long I’ll be too old to flirt anymore. I’ll have to do something—least of all I’ll have to marry—to stay in society’s good graces.”

  “So marry. How bad can it be? New things will motivate you. When you are older, life will gain more significance on its own, especially if you have a family.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. You’re the one who’s challenging life to be significant.”

  “Yet you repeatedly express astonishment at my choice to join the army.”

  “Yes, because the army destroys what life a young man has left. I feel when my youth is over I may as well die.”

  Hal looked very depressed. It worried Glenn. Was Hal’s usual joviality merely a disguise?

  “Why burden the time I have left as a young man planning for when I’m old and worthless?” Hal said.

  “Do you really think you will one day see yourself as old and worthless? When you are older you’ll still be the same man. You will be wiser for the experiences you’ve had.”

  “You talk as if you’ve been there. You’re younger than me.”

  “Barely.”

  “But you have more to live for than I do.”

  “Do you mean Dafne?”

  “Yes. But as lonely as old age would be without a family, I can’t imagine giving up my freedom and marrying now.”

  “You hate to plan, don’t you?”

  “I don’t see the point. It would just depress me. What could I plan that would beat what I have right now?”

  “You’re more a realist than an atheist.”

  “I’m not an atheist,” said Hal. “I’m agnostic. Whether there’s a God or not, I just don’t care. The reason you’re Christian is because you need something tangible to expect for your future. You plan for the afterlife just like you plan for next week or next year. But I don’t want to think about that at all. I can’t even imagine life beyond the age of thirty!”

  Glenn pondered this for a moment. He hoped this wasn’t really the reason for his belief in Christianity. He didn’t have the time to think it through right then.

  “It’s your world, isn’t it?” said Glenn.

  “It’s yours, too. Or anybody’s who’ll take it.”

  “You’re a selfish sort.”

  “So are you. It’s just that I exercise my selfishness in pleasure, you in morality and self-worth. But you only do it to feel good about yourself, just like I do.”

  Glenn couldn’t have disagreed with Hal more. Their philosophies were completely opposed. He said nothing, not wanting to enter an argument that would have no winners. Hal grew somber again.

  “I should go,” said Glenn at last.

  “That’s right, you leave tomorrow. How long will you be in the field?”

  “Thirty days.”

  “That’s a long time.”

  “Training is beginning to get serious. So, I think, is our course toward war.”

  They both rose.

  “Say, if you’re in Manhattan while I’m gone,” said Glenn, “I’d appreciate it if you popped in on Dafne once or twice. I doub
t she’ll be lonely, but I’d feel better knowing one of my chaps was checking in on her.”

  “Sure, buddy. I’d be happy to pay her a call.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Hey now, don’t work too hard up there. You’re already getting thinner.”

  Glenn smiled. “You may not recognize me after this adventure!”

  They laughed together and shook hands. Glenn left. Hal ordered another drink and settled back into his seat, looking more depressed than ever.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Winds of Change

  Glenn leaned his cheek against the window of the eastbound train. The glass actually felt cold, signifying the change in season so quickly after the oppressive heat that had marked his time in the field. The maple leaves of the forest they passed were already beginning to turn from green to gold.

  This month upstate had been the most rigorous phase of his training thus far. A realistic war-scenario had been built in the hot farmland southeast of Buffalo, complete with trenches and scorched landscape. The experience had been physically brutal, but still afforded him time for reflection. He’d desperately needed this break from the city, though he hadn’t realized it beforehand. There had been no distractions up there, not even any phones the soldiers were allowed to use.

  He thought a lot about Dafne during his time away. He could feel that they were growing apart. This time had helped him to see how they were both more fulfilled now than ever before. He felt purposeful in his work, while she had found happiness in New York society. What did it mean to their relationship that they had found these satisfactions while apart?

  He and Dafne were no longer each other’s first priority as they had been in Lindenhurst. Their relationship had never been quite the same since the shock of his announcement to enlist in the army. He now realized how badly he’d hurt her that day. Dafne may have forgiven him for his insensitivity, but how could she fail to have lost a portion of trust that could never be regained? He understood now that the nature of his enlistment had not only hurt her but also forced her to wonder about the depth of his commitment to her.