A Family Shattered: Book Two in the Michal's Destiny Series

by Roberta Kagan

  Once his father-in-law took him into business, he began to earn substantial amounts of money. But the rebellious side of him refused to be satisfied. He went out at night and found prostitutes to prove to himself that he was still in control of his own life and that although Norma’s family controlled the money, he was still his own man. Norma loved being pregnant and couldn’t wait for the baby to be born. The truth was that he really didn’t want a child. To him that would be just another rope around his neck. In Norma’s seventh month of pregnancy she miscarried. After that, due to the complications of the miscarriage, the doctor recommended that she did not become pregnant again. Trevor believed at the time that he had willed that miscarriage and blamed himself for what happened. He was sick with guilt. But instead of being kinder to Norma, it made him hate her even more. He felt trapped and felt as if he’d been cheated out of his life. Then to make matters worse, because of Norma’s condition he was told that he must curtail their sexual life to prevent her from becoming pregnant again. He thought he might go mad with the need for release. Careful not to get caught, he went out several nights a week to visit the prostitutes. Then everything changed. Trevor’s father-in-law had a stroke and died within days. Now Trevor had no one to answer to. It no longer mattered if he got caught. There was no one to turn him out. So, he became even more promiscuous. Then Trevor got tired of having to be home every night. He wanted even more freedom, so Trevor lied to Norma and told her he had to go out of the country on business. She was a mouse of a girl, quiet, sweet, and adoring. She never questioned him. Trevor was gone for weeks at a time. He would return home and have affairs that lasted for several months. Trevor would stay with a lover until he grew tired of her and found a new one. Then he went to Germany and met Johan’s mother. He loved the country as well as the great sex he had with the woman, so he stayed for almost six months. Finally he returned home. Norma welcomed him back without question. And, strangely enough, throughout their entire marriage Trevor never told Norma that he loved her, because he didn’t know that he did, at least not until she was gone.

  After Norma died, Trevor fell into a dark depression. He rehashed his mistakes and had so many regrets. That was until this lovely young girl, Alina, had come out of nowhere and illuminated the darkness in his soul.

  Alina was like a beautiful butterfly that alit in his home. She was young and delicate. Her smile made him feel warm inside and he enjoyed her company. Age and the loss of his wife gave Trevor the need for stability, for a family, and a legacy to leave behind when his time came. Even more importantly, he wanted to be sure that if he became ill or feeble that there would be someone there to care for him. Those were the thoughts that went through his mind when he decided that he wanted to marry Alina. If he could keep her with him, maybe he would never feel that terrible emptiness in the pit of his stomach that he felt when he was alone. He doubted he would be much good to her as a lover, his body had begun to fail him, but he was willing to try. A wife would do him good. And Alina and her unborn baby needed a home. It seemed like a perfect match.

  Of course, Trevor would never reveal the truth about his humble beginnings to Alina. If he did, he was afraid he would be less in her eyes, and so he wanted her to believe that he had been born into the wealthy class. And now with his wife, Norma, and all of his in-laws gone, she had no way of ever learning the truth. Trevor Powell could be anyone he chose to be, and he liked it that way.

  Chapter 34

  The end of November cast a chill upon New York City. Trevor proposed marriage to Alina. She told him that she wanted a little time to think it over. He wasn’t happy about that, but he agreed. Later, when she was alone that evening in her room, she considered the proposal. She should have been happy, excited. Trevor was wealthy. But, instead of being elated, Alina wanted to say no to him. He was so much older than she was, and the thought of a physical relationship with him repelled her. But she was afraid that if she refused, Trevor would be hurt and angry. Then he might decide to throw her out in the street. If he did she would be homeless and destitute again. So, she thought it through a little more. Even though she wasn’t attracted to him in a romantic sense, she reasoned that he seemed kind. He seemed to care for her. This marriage would give her the security she needed for her unborn child. So, Alina closed her eyes, took a deep breath, said a prayer, then went to Trevor’s room and knocked on the door.

  “Come in, Alina,” he said.

  “Yes, Trevor, I’ll marry you.”

  He smiled. “It will be good for all three of us,” he said. “You, me, and the baby….”

  Yes, and especially my baby, she thought. My baby will grow up safe, in a secure home, and not wanting for anything.

  Chapter 35

  Alina

  The following month Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, sending the United States diving headlong into the war. Everywhere on the streets of New York, Alina saw Americans ready to fight for the country they loved. Boys were enlisting in the armed forces left and right. Everywhere she saw posters of Uncle Sam, and boys looking smart in their pressed, new armed forces uniforms. Trevor was too old and far too unhealthy to enlist, and so instead, he and Alina were married. The bombing on American soil shook the country to its very core. This was a time for the immigrants to stand up and show that they too were true Americans. This war was personal for Alina. She prayed that with the help of the powerful United States, Hitler would finally be defeated. For several years, the world had been watching as Hitler was on his way to conquering all of Europe. Alina was worried sick over the fighting between Britain and Germany, because Gilde was there. She’d heard that Germany had been bombing London relentlessly. Every night she said a prayer that Gilde was safe. She’d tried to write to Gilde and Lotti but had received no answer from either of them. All that she’d left behind, her parents, her sister, her friends … what had become of them? She had no way of finding out.

  Alina and Trevor Powell were married on the fifth of January. Three months and five days later, Alina gave birth to Johan’s son. Sometime during her childhood, Alina learned that in the Jewish religion people named their children for their loved ones who’d passed away. She knew she wanted to name the baby for Johan. And so she followed the Jewish tradition to the best of her recollection, by taking the first letter of Johan’s name and calling their son Joseph. When Joseph was first born, Trevor loved the baby. However, Trevor wasn’t used to having an infant in the house, and soon he grew ill-tempered. The child cried and kept him awake at night, and seemed to need all of Alina’s attention. And, because Alina was so taken with the baby, Trevor was growing tired of Alina as well. Before Joseph was born, Trevor fancied himself the center of Alina’s world. Now, since she became a mother, she was different, and his needs came after the needs of her noisy, annoying child. Trevor began to make sarcastic remarks that hurt his wife. However, she never said a word. Alina would just look at him when he said terrible things, with her eyes glassy and her heart heavy. The marriage that had seemed so right now felt like a prison.

  “You realize that you will never get your pre-baby figure back, don’t you?” Trevor said one day as Alina sat on a chair nursing Joseph.

  Alina shrugged. But secretly she felt fat and unattractive. And as time went on, Trevor had found little ways of digging at her insecurities and making her feel inferior. He had tried to make love to her several times since Joseph was born, but he was unable to keep an erection, and for this, he blamed her. When they were first married, he claimed that he didn’t want to hurt the baby so he didn’t touch her at all. But after Joseph was born, he tried to make love to her and failed. That was when he began making comments about her body. And Alina believed him. Finally he gave up trying to make love to her, and she was glad that she didn’t have to remove her clothes in front of him anymore. Trevor decided that it was best that Alina move back into the bedroom where she’d lived before they were married.

  “The baby wakes me up crying during the night. It’s probably best fo
r you to stay in the same room as your child. You can keep him quiet. That way I can finally get a decent night’s sleep,” Trevor growled. Alina watched the lines grow deeper in Trevor’s face as he snarled at her. He looked so old and selfish that it sent a shiver up her spine. And every night Alina said a silent prayer that Trevor would grow more accustomed to having a baby in the house. That he would become more tolerant and maybe even loving towards Joseph.

  But if she were completely honest with herself, Alina had to admit she was glad to sleep in the smaller room with a cradle for her son. When she’d first married Trevor, she believed that in many ways, he was her savior. He was going to make the world right for her and the baby. But now every time he said something hurtful or critical of her or Joey, she was more repulsed by him. Sometimes she felt guilty for being ungrateful. But it had gone beyond just a lack of gratitude or a mild dislike. Alina was beginning to hate her husband. She tried to put those horrible feelings out of her mind and somehow make her shattered marriage work, if not for her sake then for Joey’s. But every time she did something kind for Trevor, he pushed her kindnesses aside, leaving her feeling unloved and useless. If it had not been for Joseph, or little Joey as she called him, she would have been miserable.

  Alina missed her family even more since Joey was born. If only they could all have seen him, they would have loved him. She was sure of it. Every week she tried to send letters to Lotti and Gilde but never received an answer. Nor did the letters return to her as being undeliverable. So, she had no information at all about her family, or Lotti and Lev. If only the Nazis and her migration to America had all been nothing but a nightmare. If somehow by the grace of God, she could wake up at home in her own bed with her sister in the room down the hall, with her parents in the kitchen and her friends living down the road. If only... But it was not a dream. None of it was a dream. It was all real. Even Johan’s death. Poor Johan.

  Alina still cared deeply for him, but perhaps because of the circumstances of their lives she had never allowed herself to fall madly in love with him the way he was with her. During their short courtship, she’d been in a constant state of worry. The changes in her life then and still were coming too rapidly, and because of this her emotions were stunted. Perhaps it was the fear of loving and losing again. Still, sometimes when she was alone and Joey was asleep, Alina would whisper to Johan in the darkness. She would tell him about Joey and sometimes in her mind she could hear him answer. Then she would feel the tears slip down her cheeks and wet the pillow. Oh, how she missed having a man take care of her and treat her with kindness.

  Little Joey was a lot of work, requiring constant attention. But regardless of how much effort she had to put into care for him, Joey was his mother’s one true joy. Joey was the only reason Alina ever smiled anymore. And finally one day he smiled back. It was late spring and Alina had made a friend at the park. She was a mother close to Alina’s age. They were sitting under a tree with their children in carriages when Joey smiled.

  “Look, look, Maria, he’s smiling.”

  “It’s gas. My mother said when a baby smiles, it’s gas,” Maria answered, laughing. She was a short, pretty girl, a little chunky, with long dark hair. Her parents had come to America from Italy, but she was born in New York. Alina had learned enough English to communicate a little with Maria. And whenever she and Maria met, Maria would help her to learn more. One Sunday Maria invited Alina to bring Joey to her family’s house for dinner.

  “Bring your husband along. My mama makes a wonderful Sunday sauce.”

  “I would love to come. But my husband will probably be out of town on business. He’s always having to go somewhere,” Alina lied. The truth was she didn’t trust Trevor to behave. When he met Maria and her family, he might make obnoxious comments. Although she’d never been to their home before, Alina was fairly sure that Maria’s family was not wealthy. Certainly not in Trevor’s financial class. She knew him and she knew he would tell her that her Italian immigrant friends weren’t suitable companions for the wife of a Powell. Since Trevor controlled all of the money, if he forbid the friendship she would be forced to listen to him or risk his anger and any consequences his rage might bring. He had ways of punishing behavior he didn’t approve of. The less he knew about Maria, the better. So, she decided not to invite Trevor . She liked Maria and enjoyed having a young female friend to talk with Their children were close in age and so they shared a great deal in common.

  He paid no attention to her comings and goings. In fact he was so glad when she took Joey out of the house that he never asked where she went.

  On Saturday, Alina baked a cake to bring with her to Maria’s house. Then Sunday morning she dressed Joey in his nicest clothes and stepped into a pretty summer dress that was white and tastefully covered with red roses. Trevor saw her getting ready to go out, but he never said a word. He just scoffed and walked into his room. Without looking back, Alina gently laid Joey in his carriage and walked almost a mile to Maria’s house for dinner.

  The food was wonderful. Maria was right. The sauce on the noodles that her mother had prepared made her taste buds explode with delight. Alina had never tasted anything like it. Maria’s parents were a lot older and spoke mostly in Italian, but her husband, her two brothers and younger sister spoke perfect English. Whenever the parents said something in Italian, one of the younger family members was careful to explain what the parents were saying so Alina would not feel left out. Alina’s English was still not good enough for her to understand everything that was said, but she instinctively knew that no one was talking badly about her. As she watched the family, laughing and kidding with each other, she felt the warmth of the love they shared.

  Everyone was very kind to her, she was grateful for their generosity, and she was happy for them and all they had. But just sitting with all of them gathered together around a table only reminded Alina of her life such a long time ago, a life she might never have again.

  Alina and Maria continued to meet in the park twice a week with the babies. They arranged the times for their visits to begin a few hours before their children took their afternoon naps. However, when Maria asked Alina to come to dinner again, Alina made an excuse and declined.

  One afternoon after meeting with Maria, Alina had left the park. It was a hot summer day and she was walking back home when she saw a familiar face. Her eyes lit up. The man she recognized was crossing the street and walking towards a big white truck. When he looked up and saw her, his handsome face broke into a smile. He waved and called out, “Alina.”

  She recognized his face he was the Russian she’d met on the boat- but couldn’t remember his name. She waved. He ran over to her. “How have you been?”

  “Fine,” she said, trying to smile “This is my son, Joey.”

  “Hi, Joey,” He said. He was speaking perfect German, but his Russian accent reminded Alina so much of her father that she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to embrace him or cry. “You forgot my name?”

  She shrugged. “Yes, I’m sorry.”

  “Ugo, Ugo Blok. I remember your name. Your real name and your not so real name. You’re really Alina Margolis, but you go by Adelheid Strombeck.”

  “Good memory,” she said.

  He laughed. “How could I forget such a pretty smile?”

  “I have another name now. I’m Adelheid Powell. Or Alina Powell if you prefer. I got married.”

  “Congratulations,” he said, thinking she met someone very quickly after Johan’s death. But that happened often to immigrants. It was easier for a woman to be married than to be alone in this country. “So, what do you prefer to be called, Adelheid or Alina?”

  She thought she saw a quick flash of disappointment flare across his face when she said she was married. But then it was gone.