Escapade (9781301744510)

by Susan Carroll

  So he had heaped Rory with presents, tried to shove the ring onto her finger and closed down her warehouse without telling her first. All he had wanted to do was love, cherish and protect her. His blustering manner had only been to hide his uncertainty, his desperate fear she might somehow slip away from him. Perhaps the disguise had worked all too well.

  But God forbid Zeke Morrison should reveal too much of his feelings, let it be known that underneath he wasn't so tough after all, but just as vulnerable as anyone else.

  He could only imagine what Rory must be thinking of him now, and none of it was pleasant. Fragments of her bitter words echoed through his head. How could you do this to me? You ruin people's lives. No wonder your mother died grieving.

  No wonder indeed. Rory had been wise to tell him to get out and spare herself further misery.

  With such thoughts roiling in his mind, Zeke took little heed of where he was walking. He nearly collided with a freckle-faced kid hawking papers on a street corner. But the boy was quick to recover himself. Glancing up hopefully from beneath the brim of his cap, he asked, "Paper, mister?"

  Zeke shook his head, but the boy persisted. Waving a copy of the World before Zeke's eyes, the paperboy sang out, "Read all about it. Reporter raises doubts about Decker suicide."

  Zeke took a quick glance at the headline. So Duffy had made good his threat to continue the investigation. In his present humor, Zeke wasn't even mildly interested. He gave the kid a dollar, telling him to keep the change and the paper.

  The boy's eyes lit up. "Geez, thanks, mister." Gathering up his largess and his remaining papers, the lad scuttled off down the street with an energy that left Zeke feeling very old.

  Snapped out of his musings about Rory, Zeke at last took a look around to gain his bearings. His gaze fell on the weathered street sign.

  Pearl Street.

  He should've been surprised, but he wasn't. Some part of him had known all along exactly where he was headed. Where, but not why. What could possibly have drawn him back to this place? Nothing lurked on the block ahead of him but old memories, some of them bad, all of them painful.

  Yet still he kept going. The row of brick tenements seemed to close around him, packed so close together they blocked out the rays of the setting sun. The street was even more rundown than he remembered, some of the windows boarded over. An old man rooted through a trash can, hunting for something to eat, while a scrawny stray dog barked and nipped at his heels. From an upper story came the shrill sound of laughter, then the shattering of glass as someone tossed a gin bottle out the window. Across the street, a young girl, looking too worn for her years, listlessly hung much-mended stockings out on the fire escape to dry.

  All about him were the sights, the sounds of a world he had tried so relentlessly to put behind him. Almost instinctively he turned to the one place that had been a bright spot in the midst of all this poverty and despair—the second-floor flat, third house from the corner.

  Sadie's flowerpots were long gone from that windowsill, the curtains that hung there now much dirtier than his mother ever would have tolerated. The place was noisier too. Even at street level, Zeke could hear a man bellowing something in a slurred accent, followed by a smacking sound, then a child's wail.

  As Zeke lingered there, a small urchin emerged onto the flat's fire escape. The boy snuffled against his sleeve, nursing a black eye, but was still full of fire and defiance.

  "Don't care whatcha do to me," he shouted back through the window. "I'm gonna run away. Someday I'm gonna have lots of money and live far away from this stinking place."

  The boy sank down onto the fire escape, drawing his knees up to his chest, staring sullenly up at the sky. Zeke felt chilled watching him, as though he had peeled away too many layers of the past. It might have been himself back up there on that fire escape, so well could he guess what was going on in the child's mind. Brooding over his wrongs, and if he only knew it, dreaming all the wrong dreams.

  Zeke felt as if he had seen enough. Turning, he strode rapidly away, covering the blocks that led toward the East River. The dockside area was no place to be at dusk, but the size of Zeke and the blackness of his scowl seemed enough to keep any lurking toughs at a distance.

  Besides, Zeke thought wryly, he really had nothing on him of any real value. As he stood by the water's edge, watching the murky waters lap against the embankment, he thrust his hand into his pocket and drew forth the ring.

  How different the diamond looked to him now. It didn't sparkle near so much as it had in the jeweler's case. It might as well have been paste, not able to hold a candle to the brightness of the stars or Rory's eyes.

  Zeke's fingers folded around the ring, and with a slow deliberation, he drew back his arm and hurled it out across the East River. It landed with a plop, scarce raising a ripple on the darkening waters.

  He lowered his arm, feeling worn down and defeated. For the first time in his life, he had no plans for tomorrow, or the day after that. The future stretched before him, an empty succession of years with no meaning, no Rory.

  He had never asked anyone's help or advice before. There had only been one person he had even partly needed, but she was gone. Never had he missed Sadie as keenly as he did tonight.

  "What am I going to do, lady?" he murmured, tipping back his head, searching the night sky. Even the stars looked cold and remote. It seemed too late to be seeking answers now, too late for so many things.

  And then again maybe it wasn't. For too many years, he had been on a headlong rush down the road to wealth and power, not stopping to count the cost. Perhaps the time had come to pause, to cease charging recklessly forward. Perhaps the time had come at last to turn and go back, begin to recover some of what he had lost upon the way.

  The area of the city known as Greenwich Village was a veritable labyrinth of crisscrossing streets. Zeke lost his way several times amidst a maze of artist's garrets, antiques shops, cellar cafés and tearooms. He at last located the place he sought along a side road winding down from Sheridan Square. There was little but a number to distinguish the unpretentious three-story townhouse from a row of others just like it.

  Zeke trudged up the steps of the high front stoop and rapped with the brass knocker. Squaring his shoulders, he stepped back, his uncertainty of welcome only betrayed by the way he fingered the brim of his hat.

  When the door swung wide, he shrank from the flood of light and warmth spilling across the threshold. He hadn't been prepared to have his sister Caroline herself answer his summons.

  Caddie stood wiping her hands on a dishcloth, brushing back the straggling ends of her dark hair, which was now a little flecked with gray. She was still pretty, although she had grown a little plump after the bearing of three children. It both disconcerted Zeke and touched a poignant chord of memory within him. How much his sister looked like Sadie, the resemblance only growing more marked with the passage of time.

  For a moment, Caddie stared at Zeke. But then her open¬mouthed astonishment gave way to a tremulous smile. "Oh,my! Johnnie!"

  "'Evening Caddie," Zeke said sheepishly. He shuffled his feet on the mat, uncertain what to do next. But he was not left to debate the matter for long, as his sister dragged him across the threshold and enveloped him in a fierce hug.

  "Oh, Johnnie." Tears sparkled in her eyes. "What a wonderful surprise."

  "I was just passing through the Village. I thought I would call upon you for a moment."

  He made it sound as casual as he could, despite the fact it had been nearly two years since he had crossed her threshold. Caddie's clear brown eyes gave him a penetrating look that made him squirm, one of those uncanny soul-seeing glances that also reminded him too much of Sadie. But all she said was "I'm so glad you came."

  Placing his hat on the hall table, she led him into her parlor, a cozy nook of overstuffed furniture and the vases of flowers that had always been Caroline's passion. Still clinging to Zeke's arm, she called out to a man ensconced in a wing-ba
cked chair, reading before the fire.

  "Arthur, look who's here. My brother, John."

  Zeke awkwardly thrust out his hand as his brother-in-law ambled forward to greet him. Arthur Dawes was an amiable man who forever seemed to have paint flecks on his clothes and a faraway expression as though his mind were off elsewhere, putting the finishing strokes on some canvas.

  It never ceased to amaze Zeke that someone could make a decent living for his family out of anything as improbable as painting pictures. But he had to admit the fellow had done well by Caddie. He was almost worthy of her.

  Arthur greeted Zeke in a friendly fashion, as though it had been only yesterday that he had seen him. Which, considering the absentminded way Arthur kept track of time, he probably believed it had been.

  Zeke found it far more difficult to face Caddie's children, especially without any presents in his hands. They regarded him shyly at first, two curly-headed boys with missing teeth, hanging on the skirts of their sister, Lucy, who had almost grown as tall as her mother.

  But it was not long before Zeke found himself surrounded, barraged on all sides with earnest chatter.

  "Thank you for the cloak you sent for my birthday, Uncle John," Lucy said with a pretty blush and coy glance. "You're the only one who seems to realize I am quite grown up."

  "Hey, Uncle John." One of the boys tugged at his sleeve. “Remember you said once if you ever came to visit, you would teach me how to fight."

  "Me too." The littlest one was already doubling up his fists.

  Zeke didn't exactly recall having made such a promise, but he feared he might have.

  "I think I only promised to do so if your mother approved." He cast a guilty glance at Caddie, who only beamed and shook her head at him.

  "You may as well. They are always at the fisticuffs anyway. Just like someone else I remember."

  Their eyes met over the children's heads, hers half-scolding, but alight with tender amusement. Zeke grinned back, feeling glad that he had come, until a shadow fell across the parlor.

  He heard the rustle of stiff silk skirts and looked around, his smile fading as he met the one face that held no warmth of welcome for him. The severity of her black gown was only matched by Tessa's expression, her features pinched white with disapproval, her eyes as ever dark with accusation.

  The bright laughter of the children stilled, as even they seemed to sense the change in the atmosphere. Only Caddie managed to retain a determined smile.

  "Tessa, my dear. Isn't it the most fortunate thing? John has just dropped by in time for supper. We must persuade him to dine with us."

  "If he stays, I go," Tessa said.

  "Theresa—," Caddie began.

  But Zeke was already preparing to leave. "That's all right, Caddie," he said quietly. "I didn't come here to cause any more discord." He stepped into the hall, reaching for his hat with a weary gesture. He should have known what a mistake this would be.

  But Tessa came hard after him. "You needn't make any noble gestures on my behalf," she spat out. "I know how long Caddie has been waiting to kill the fatted calf for you." She snatched her own shawl off the hall peg.

  Behind him, Zeke was aware of Caddie shooing her husband and children toward the kitchen. Zeke felt angry with himself, and Tessa as well, for disrupting the harmony of their evening.

  "Stay where you are, Tessa," he snapped. "I said I'd go."

  Tessa glared at him as she draped her shawl over her head. "I wouldn't dream of—"

  "Just stop it. Both of you."

  The harsh command from Caddie startled them. She approached them, blocking the doorway, her hands on her hips, her gentle face flushed. "After two years, I have endured quite enough of this nonsense."

  Tessa stiffened. "But Caroline, he—"

  "Be quiet, Tessa! Now I want both of you to turn right around and march back into the parlor."

  When neither of them moved, Caddie actually took a menacing step forward. Zeke's flash of anger dissolved as his sister's stern expression put him in mind of Sadie those times she had been induced to lose her temper. The incidents had been so rare that even he, ever the defiant one, had scuttled to obey.

  After she had them both securely inside, Caddie announced, "Now neither one of you is coming out again until you have put an end to this silly quarrel."

  Before either could guess her intent, she closed the parlor door and locked it. Zeke registered one mild protest, but Tessa rattled the knob, bellowing her sister's name.

  "You might as well have done, Tess," Zeke said. "I think Caddie means it."

  Tessa shot him a seething look, but she abandoned her efforts with the door. She stomped over to the sofa and plopped down, lapsing into a stony silence. After a brief hesitation Zeke perched himself on the opposite end of the divan.

  The situation certainly was not funny, but he couldn't prevent a chuckle from escaping him. He said, "This reminds me of those times when we were kids and Sadie would make us sit out on the stoop until we had patched up our spat. You were so stubborn, I was always afraid we were going to starve to death."

  "Me!" Tessa cried. "It was always you—" She choked off and then averted her face from him.

  Zeke inched closer. He managed to get possession of her hand. "Tessa, look at me."

  When she wouldn't, he caught her chin, gently turning her head around. Bitter tears sparkled in her eyes, but he forced himself to stare directly into them.

  "I'm sorry.

  Her lips trembled.

  "I know now I shouldn't have done what I did, interfered with your marriage plans in that high-handed way. At least, I should have made you understand why I did it."

  She squirmed to get away from him. "You did it to be mean. To get back at me for all the nasty things I said to you about being adopted."

  "You know that isn't so." He hesitated, groping for the right thing to say, to make her understand. "I know you never wanted me, but I was trying to be your brother anyway, the best that I knew how.

  "I broke up your engagement because-." He swallowed, the words forming a hard lump in his throat. He didn't think he'd be able to get them out, but somehow he managed. "Because I cared too much about you to see you wed some fellow who wasn't fit to lick the sole of your shoes."

  Her eyes widened as though stunned by the emotion in his voice. It was as unexpected to him as it was to her. He thought perhaps he had said too much, because she stiffened. But suddenly she dissolved into tears. He watched her in awkward silence for a moment, and then draped one arm about her. She tried to twist away from him, but he persisted, drawing her against the lee of his shoulder. With a great sob, she gave way at last, collapsing in his arms, crying down the front of his waistcoat.

  "B-but Johnnie," she wept. "It was so awful. You can't know. When you paid Marco to go away, we were supposed to run off the next day. He left me waiting at the door of the church."

  "The bastard," Zeke said, stroking her hair. "If I had him here now, I would break his head."

  "If he was here, I would let you."

  He rocked her gently until the worst of her grief was spent. She surfaced at last from his shoulder and drew back, sniffing. "I guess I always knew what a bounder Marco was, but he was all I had. He was the only man who would ever have wanted to marry me."

  "Idiot!" Zeke used his handkerchief to help her wipe her eyes. "Lots of fellows would have been proud to have you. You were always a clever girl, Tessa. The cleverest one of us."

  "Clever isn't pretty."

  "You were pretty, too. You still are—except when you've been crying. Then you look like hell."

  She hiccuped, the sound halfway between a laugh and a sob.

  "Toad!" she said.

  "Shrew!" he shot back.

  "Brat!"

  They were just completing this tender exchange when the parlor door inched open and Caddie peered cautiously inside. She heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank God. It had gone so quiet in here, I thought you two surely must have killed each oth
er this time."

  Zeke stood up quickly, shielding Tessa and giving her time to compose herself. "We are half-dead- from hunger."

  Caddie smiled until she dimpled. "The old starvation method. Mama was right. It works every time. Supper is ready if you are.” Her gaze tracked uncertainly from Zeke to Tessa.

  Tessa heaved herself to her feet, smoothing out her skirts with an air of wounded dignity. "Then what are we waiting for? I can't recall either one of you ever asking my permission to go and eat."

  Zeke grinned and made her a mock bow. "Ladies, permit me to escort you to the dining room." Caddie was quick to take his arm, and after a brief hesitation, Tessa did so as well.

  It was a strange feeling to Zeke to be seated back in the midst of a family gathering round a supper table. Caddie was doing her best to set him at his ease, pretend that nothing extraordinary was happening.

  But she couldn't quite dim the glow in her eyes nor suppress the tiny catch in her voice as she led them in the prayer. "Bless us, O Lord, for these thy gifts." She glanced straight at Zeke, and he was obliged to look away, his own heart suddenly too full.

  He barely tasted the excellent roast beef dinner; he was too unaccustomed to entertaining so many emotions to feel quite comfortable. One couldn't do away with all the hurts and the barriers of years, not in the space of one evening. Although Tessa no longer sniped at him, she still refused to meet his eyes or say much to him.

  After supper, she retired with the children as though eager to escape his company. Although disappointed, Zeke tried to understand. When Arthur also retreated, up to his artist's studio, Zeke was left alone with Caddie.

  As with Sadie, there was something about his eldest sister that induced one to open up to her. Zeke found himself telling her all about Rory, the entire mess he had made of their relationship.

  "So what are you going to do about it?" Caddie asked.

  Zeke heaved a deep sigh. "I don't know."