Christmas in New York

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Christmas in New York Page 5

by Monique Martin


  Tommy was embarrassed but nodded.

  “I took care of him when he fell,” the girl said, proudly.

  “You did, Margaret. Real good. In fact,” Henry said and dug into his pocket. “I might have somethin’ for ya.”

  He held out the penny candy. Margaret’s eyes went wide with delight.

  There were four candies. “Two for each of you,” Henry said.

  Margaret took them and handed two to Tommy.

  She popped one into her mouth and looked at Henry. “You should have one.”

  She held out the remaining candy.

  “Naw.”

  Margaret almost put it in her pocket but remembered Charlotte was there. Her happy face fell and her eyebrows knitted together in worry. “Do you want one?”

  Charlotte smiled and shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  Happy again, Margaret tucked the candy into the pocket of her dress.

  Henry looked at Tommy fiercely. “If Benny gives you any more trouble, you let me know, okay?”

  Tommy nodded.

  Margaret stared at Charlotte.

  “Are you new?” she asked between sucks.

  Charlotte shook her head again. “Just visiting.”

  “Lucky you,” Tommy said.

  “I’m Charlotte,” she said and held out her hand. Then she realized she had gloves on and took them off.

  Tommy shook her hand. “Tommy.”

  Margaret eyed her gloves. “Those look soft. My hands are always cold.”

  Charlotte nodded and ran them against her cheek. “Cashmere.”

  “Sounds expensive.”

  Charlotte hadn’t thought about it that way. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Pretty,” Margaret said admiring them as Charlotte tucked them into her coat pocket.

  “Is he here?” Henry suddenly asked Tommy who nodded in reply.

  “In the back.”

  “Come on,” Henry said, taking Charlotte by the arm. “I wanna show you somethin’.”

  Charlotte smiled at Tommy and Margaret. “It was nice meeting you,” she said as Henry pulled her away.

  They were walking down another hall when Henry held a finger to his lips and brought them to a halt.

  He peered around a corner then gestured for her to follow him. They moved carefully around the corner and ran smack into an older woman who’d just come out of an office.

  “Henry,” she said, not unpleasantly, then looked at him more closely. “What are you up to?”

  His eyes opened wide and he smiled sweetly. “Nothing, Mrs. Adler.”

  She narrowed her eyes, clearly knowing Henry well, but then smiled. “I see. Not getting into any more fights, are you?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  Her gaze shifted to Charlotte. “And who do we have here?”

  “This is Charlotte. Just showing her around.”

  Mrs. Adler smiled down at her. “Nice to meet you, Charlotte.”

  Charlotte had the feeling they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t but she wasn’t sure what. She managed a polite, “Hello.”

  Mrs. Adler observed them both for a moment, the way her mom did sometimes. “Just do me a favor and stay out of trouble, Henry.”

  Henry nodded quickly. “I will, Mrs. Adler.”

  She found that amusing for some reason and gave a short laugh before walking down the hall the way they’d just come.

  Henry waited until she’d turned the corner before he tugged on Charlotte’s arm again, urging her further down the hall in the opposite direction.

  “She seems nice,” Charlotte said in a soft whisper.

  Henry nodded but he still seemed a little unsure. “I think so. But … well, anyway, she’s one of us.” He noticed Charlotte’s confusion. “An orphan. Or she was. That’s something. Anyway, she’s just a widow lady that helps out here sometimes.”

  “She doesn’t work here?”

  “Naw. She works for—” He stopped mid-sentence and jerked his head to the side. “Come on. Around here.”

  He led her into another hall and stopped by a door that was left partly open. He held up his finger to keep her quiet again.

  Charlotte peeked through the open door. Inside a policeman was talking to two boys.

  “How’d you do?” he asked.

  The boys handed him a paper bag. He looked inside then pulled out a handful of bills, looking at them with disappointment. “This is it?”

  The boys nodded.

  “People ain’t givin’.”

  “At Christmas? For the orphan fund?” The officer put the bills back in the bag. “You need to do better than this, boys. You tell everyone they need to do better.”

  So the kids were collecting for the big gala orphan fund she’d seen the poster for. She’d done that one time for a fundraiser at school. She’d raised one hundred and thirty-seven dollars all by herself. Of course, her dad gave her most of it.

  “We’re tryin’.”

  “Did you take the crippled kid like I told ya?”

  Was he talking about Tommy? Charlotte looked over at Henry but his eyes were fixed on the man.

  “He wouldn’t go,” one of the boys said.

  “Make him. He’d be good for business.” The way he said it meant there was no other choice. He dug around in the paper bag. “You sure you ain’t takin’ a little for yourselves, huh?”

  “No. We gave half to Mrs. Adler like you said. And half to you.”

  “You didn’t tell her anything about our little arrangement, did you?”

  The boys shook their head.

  He grabbed one of them by the shirt collar and yanked him nearly off his feet. “I didn’t hear you.”

  Charlotte barely stopped her gasp of surprise from slipping out and giving them away.

  “No, sir.”

  The officer shoved him away and let go. “Do better next time. Now, get out of here.”

  The boys nodded and turned toward the door. Henry yanked Charlotte away and they ducked into another room.

  She heard the boys’ footsteps outside in the hall. “I don’t understand. Who is he?”

  Henry’s face was grim as he pressed his ear to the door. He waited a moment then eased it open and waved for her to follow him.

  They snuck down the hall and out a back door. They hid behind a low wall at the back of the building and peeked over it.

  The officer stood on the sidewalk waiting.

  “What’s he waiting for?” Charlotte asked.

  Right on cue, a long black car pulled up and the back window rolled down. The officer leaned down and said something Charlotte couldn’t hear.

  The officer stood up straight then and held out the bag of money. The man in the car leaned forward to take it and Charlotte finally got a good look at him. It was the man from the poster. It was Alderman Scarpetti.

  Chapter Five

  “YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO walk me back.”

  “Like you could find it without me.”

  Charlotte frowned but he was right. It was annoying.

  She couldn’t get what she’d seen out of her head. Those men were stealing from the orphans. And from what Henry had told her, they were taking some of every donation that came in. And that was a lot of money.

  “Here we are,” Henry said.

  They reached the outside of Charlie’s building. Charlotte looked up at the fire escape. Crud. She’d forgotten about that. The ladder was back in its place beneath the grating, a whole story up.

  She stared up at it, far, far out of her reach. “What am I going to do now?”

  Henry grinned and ran into an alley next to the building. Charlotte walked over to see what he was doing.

  Henry rummaged behind some metal trash cans like Oscar the Grouch lived in. After some banging and shifting, he reached behind them and pulled out a rope with a rock tied to one end.

  “Mr. Wickham’s,” Henry said as he held up his prize. “4C. He uses it to sneak out and sneak back in sometimes.”


  Charlotte was amazed. “And how do you know that?”

  Henry just smiled. “I know everything that goes on around here.”

  They walked back over to the fire escape.

  Henry waved his arm dramatically. “Stand back.”

  He swung the weighted end in circles then let it fly up toward the ladder. It missed and the rock nearly hit him when it came back down.

  As he gathered up the rope again, a woman passed by and glared at him. Henry tipped his cap and smiled. “Mrs. Garner.”

  She frowned but kept on her way.

  Henry tried again. It took three tries, but he finally got the rock to loop over one of the rungs of the ladder. The added weight pulled it down.

  Once it was on the ground, he put a foot on the bottom rung to keep it in place.

  Charlotte just stared at him. She’d never met anyone like him before. The boys at school were so … boring.

  “You gonna stare at me all day or are you gonna climb up?” he asked and nodded toward the stairs.

  Charlotte blushed and started toward them. She took the first step and held on to the railing. “Thanks.”

  Henry smiled at her.

  She stared at him again until he dipped his head.

  She started up the stairs but turned back. “I almost forgot,” she said and pulled her gloves out of the pocket of her coat. “Here.”

  She held them out.

  Henry looked at them in confusion.

  “For Margaret,” she said. “I have others.”

  She didn’t, but it didn’t matter; Margaret needed them more than she did.

  Henry’s smile grew and there was something else in it now. Something that made Charlotte’s insides feel a little warmer.

  “Thanks,” he said, taking the gloves and stuffing them into his pocket.

  They stared at each other for another long moment before he broke the spell. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

  Charlotte nodded and watched him go before climbing back up the steps to the window to Mrs. Blomster’s apartment.

  ~~~

  “Why don’t you go get cleaned up for dinner, honey?” Elizabeth asked Charlotte as they returned to their hotel.

  Charlotte nodded happily and disappeared into her room. At least someone had had a good day.

  Simon took off his overcoat and jacket and laid them over the back of a chair in the living room of their suite. He’d been quiet since they’d left Charlie at the bar. That was never good.

  Elizabeth waited for Simon to sit down, but he didn’t. Also a bad sign.

  She knew what his argument would be. And it was, unfortunately, a good one. It was dangerous to get involved, or at least it could be. But she couldn’t just do nothing.

  Simon walked over to the window and eased back the drapes to look down at their view of the park below. Elizabeth joined him. It looked as depressing as she felt. The trees were barren of leaves, the ground dull and brown or gray where the snow wasn’t. What snow there was had turned into mush. A hazy gray pall hung over it all and over them.

  She rested her head against his shoulder and gazed out at the gloom. He lifted his arm and put it around her, pulling her close to his side.

  “I’m sorry, Elizabeth.”

  She looked up at him. He glanced down at her and then back out the window. “I feel for him. I do. Sincerely.”

  “But?”

  He sighed and turned away from the window. “If it were anything else. If you and Charlotte weren’t here—”

  “But it isn’t.”

  He nodded.

  “And we are.”

  He walked over to the desk. “I’ll write him a check. I’ll give him anything he needs.”

  “Except the one thing he really needs. Our help.”

  It was awfully handy having access to a nearly bottomless bank account thanks to the Council, but money couldn’t solve this problem.

  Simon leaned on the chair by the desk and she could see the tension outlined in the muscles of his back.

  He turned to look at her. She was surprised by the depth of emotion in his eyes, the worry, the fear. “I can’t.”

  She walked quickly over to him and put her hands on his arms. “It’s not like before.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  She knew what he was thinking, why he was feeling the way he was. His fear of history repeating itself. “No. Charlie’s in trouble. It’s not like I was, but he’s in trouble just the same. When we needed help, he didn’t hesitate. He risked everything for us. He risked his life for us. How can we turn our backs on him now?”

  Simon’s eyes moved to the door to Charlotte’s room.

  “We can keep her safe.”

  Simon laughed bitterly. “I thought the same thing about you.”

  She squeezed his arms. “And you did.”

  “After you nearly died.”

  “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t get to that.”

  Simon pulled away. “This isn’t a joking matter, Elizabeth.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  Simon stopped and sighed before dropping onto the sofa.

  Elizabeth sat next to him and took his hand in hers. “We have to at least try. It’s the right thing, Simon.”

  He was ready to argue some more when Charlotte emerged from her bedroom. She twirled around in front them showing off one of the dresses they’d bought her for the trip. She spun around again, then fell backwards into Simon’s lap.

  He smiled down at her. “Very graceful.”

  She giggled. “Are you ready?”

  “Ready?”

  She sat up. “For dinner, silly.” She put a hand on her stomach. “The snickerdoodles have worn off.”

  Simon gave a short laugh. “All right.” He turned back to Elizabeth and gave her a wan smile. “Dinner, it is.”

  ~~~

  A car horn blared behind them. Their cab driver raised his hands, gesturing unseen to the car behind them then slammed on his own horn in reply. That set off a chain reaction of blaring horns all the way down a gridlocked Broadway.

  Simon sighed. This was not the Christmas he’d imagined. His wife was angry with him. His daughter’s Christmas present was more than a letdown; it was a colossal disappointment. And worse yet, he couldn’t do anything about either.

  He leaned forward. “There must be some other way.”

  The driver shook his head. “Not unless you can make cars fly.”

  Charlotte giggled at that.

  Simon was less amused. He should have stood his ground and said no when they asked to come here. Like a fool, he’d thought it might be simple. And even pleasant.

  The cabbie leaned on his horn again.

  How wrong he was.

  “Why don’t we walk?” Elizabeth suggested. “The restaurant’s not far is it?”

  “Couple blocks,” the cabbie replied.

  “Maybe we should.”

  Just then the cab rolled forward and Simon’s hope of making their reservation sprung to life.

  For all of ten feet.

  “That’s it,” he said. “We’re walking.” He looked at Charlotte nestled between them. “All right?”

  She nodded enthusiastically. How he wished he shared the sentiment.

  Elizabeth helped Charlotte out of the cab.

  “Half a block down, then turn left on Beaver. Go a couple blocks. Can’t miss it,” the cabbie told him as Simon paid the fare.

  Elizabeth was uncharacteristically quiet as they walked. Between them Charlotte more than made up for it with a running commentary.

  “Did you know that New York used to be called New Amsterdam? Then the English came and said, ‘Get out of here Dutch. We’re gonna call it New York. After York. Except new.’ And that it was once the capital of the United States? And then they moved it to Washington but it wasn’t Washington until they called it that after George Washington and then it was.”

  “Really?” Simon asked.

  “Yup.”

  “You kn
ow an awful lot about it,” Elizabeth said.

  Charlotte shrugged. “I read about it.” She skipped ahead then walked backwards for a few steps. “When I knew we were coming, I read all I could.”

  He loved that about her. Her thirst for knowledge. Of course, he loved everything about her. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t think about what a lucky man he was.

  He glanced over at Elizabeth. Her smile told him she was probably thinking the same. They’d done some amazing things together but nothing held a candle to Charlotte.

  They walked another block and came upon a group of three men lingering near the mouth of an alley. Simon moved to the inside of the sidewalk to put himself between the men and his family but the men didn’t even look at them. They were too tired and hungry to bother.

  Their clothes were little more than rags that hung off their bodies. Dirty hands tore apart and shared the remnants of a sandwich one of them had found in the trashcans in the alley.

  Charlotte’s eyes locked on them until Elizabeth told her not to stare.

  After another block they reached the restaurant, Delmonico’s, one of New York’s oldest and finest restaurants. The maître d’ took them to their table and the harshness of the Depression seemed a world away, lost in the white linen tablecloths and dark wood paneling.

  Dinner was pleasant although a little subdued. He’d hoped the thick steak and the excellent cabernet would lift his spirits. And they would have if Charlotte hadn’t been so glum.

  Ever since they’d sat down her bubbly personality had gone flat. Maybe it had been the men they’d seen or, more likely, she’d merely picked up on her parents’ somber mood. Whatever the cause, he hated to see her like this.

  He took a sip of wine. “So, you had a good time at Mrs. Blomster’s?”

  She nodded. “Trudy’s nice.”

  He waited for more but none came. He and Elizabeth shared a worried look.

  “What would you like to do tomorrow?” he asked. “FAO Schwartz maybe? It’s quite a remarkable toy store in this time. There must be something there you’d like.”

  Christmas for a child should be about toys and presents. He so wanted to give her the holiday she deserved.

 

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