A few months later, with the excitement of her new job and trying her hardest to juggle everything, Marie completely forgot to ask Catherine about getting time off for her honeymoon. She called her at home, a call that resulted in a string of career challenges for Marie.
“Hello?”
She was surprised to hear a man’s voice. “Hello, this is Marie Costa. I work with Catherine. Is she there?”
“No, she’s at the hospital.”
“Hospital? Is she alright?”
He hesitated for a moment. “She’s in her therapy. Couldn’t wait until the weekend this time.”
Her jaw dropped. She looked at Richard across the room. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Is this her husband?”
“Yes. Do you mean to tell me she hasn’t told anyone at work what she’s been going through?”
“Well, Mr. Olsen, I’m the one closest to her, and she hasn’t told me.”
“Geez. She told me the people at work knew.”
“What kind of therapy?”
“Iron lung.”
Marie hoped her gasp hadn’t carried over the phone lines. They talked a couple of minutes more. “Would you prefer we didn’t let on to her that we ever had this conversation?”
“Yes, I think that would be best,” he said.
She hung up the phone and stared at Richard, somewhat in disbelief about what she had just learned. “Catherine is in the hospital for her weekly iron lung treatment.”
“That was her husband?”
She nodded. “I didn’t even know she was married,” she said guiltily.
“What did he say was wrong with her?”
“He didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. He thought everyone at work knew. You know about iron lungs. What could be wrong with her?”
“Polio most likely, but it could be anything that causes breathing problems.”
“Wouldn’t we notice if she had polio?”
“Not necessarily.”
“I’ve noticed her breathing hard a few times, but I had no idea…” Her thoughts drifted off.
The following Monday, Catherine worked just a half-day. To cover for her, Marie and Esther decided to work until the store closed, three hours past their normal quit time. Esther called her sister to let her know she wouldn’t be home for dinner. Marie called Richard.
“I’ll pick up dinner for you two and drop it off,” he offered.
“That would be wonderful, and then why don’t you join us?”
Richard arrived with two large bags of food and a big smile on his face. “Your delivery boy is here!”
While they ate, Richard asked Esther how the hotplate was working out for her. Marie had lent it to her the previous month when Esther’s stove went kaput.
“It’s a godsend until we can afford a new stove.” She gave a weak smile that quickly faded. “My sister tried to find a used one, but…”
“If you can make arrangements to have it picked up, you can have the stove in my apartment if you want. There’s nothing wrong with it. I was just going to leave it for the next tenant when Marie and I move into our new house.”
“Are you kidding? We would love it! And we know someone with a truck!”
“Then it’s yours.” He gave Esther one of his winning smiles.
They finished dinner. Richard packed up the remaining food. “I saw two guys who looked pretty down and out in the alley next door. I think I’ll give the leftovers to them on my way out.”
“That’s a good idea, hon. Thanks.” She kissed him good-bye. “See ya later.”
Richard saluted both girls and proceeded to the elevator.
Esther looked at Marie with wide eyes and shook her head.
“What?”
“He is so handsome. And charming. So this is the same guy you were having second thoughts about?”
“Hmm?”
“You don’t remember that conversation we had?” Marie shook her head. “When I picked up the hotplate?”
“Mm-hm. I remember.” Marie reflected back to their conversation. Marie had gone on and on about Richard’s good points. Esther suspected she wasn’t getting the whole picture and asked about his faults.
“He’s ambitious,” Marie had said.
“That’s not a fault,” Esther argued.
“Overly ambitious…maybe. He’s very driven by money.”
“On a scale of one to ten on the fault meter, I would say that’s a ‘one.’”
“And sometimes I think he’s not telling me everything.” She thought for a moment and then added, “But it never seems worth it to call him on it, because in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t seem that important.”
“Continue,” Esther urged.
“He doesn’t have a close relationship with his family.”
“Most of my married friends would say that’s a bonus. Go on.”
I can’t believe she just said that. “That’s all I have.”
“Marie, I know women would give up their right arm to have a guy like that. Who was it who said, ‘Be to his virtues very kind. Be to his faults a little blind’?”
Marie had never heard this expression. Now it was one she recalled every time Richard did something the least bit suspicious. Like the first time it snowed after they met and Marie’s street was plowed before she got up that morning. Normally, hers would be one of the last streets to be plowed, and sometimes it never got plowed. When she mentioned it to Richard, all he said was, “You’re welcome.”
* * *
Being Buyer for the largest department store in the city was much more than Marie had initially imagined. She had studied inventory management in college, but she had no idea one would have to spend so much time at it. But between Esther’s experience and Marie’s college education, they developed new procedures that streamlined the processes, something that bolstered Marie’s pride in her work and pleased Catherine.
Keeping store expenses within the budget for each quarter was also part of her responsibilities. Catherine was a master negotiator, and she taught Marie to be just as shrewd. The suppliers loved Marie. One lingerie manufacturer gave her a bigger discount merely because he didn’t have to deal with Catherine anymore.
Marie did things differently from Catherine on many levels, but the most significant was the way she worked with the floorwalkers and sales clerks. Catherine couldn’t have cared less about what they thought. She bought inventory based on her knowledge and intuitions. Marie, on the other hand, paid attention to everything the clerks had to say. She made it a point to walk around the store at least weekly, and often stopped in the break room to chat with them. She believed they were the closest to the customers and more in tune to what they would buy. She encouraged her fellow employees to inquire as to what their customers wanted, a concept that was foreign to Catherine, but more in line with the owner’s motto of “Give the lady what she wants.”
CHAPTER 3
Richard
As Richard gradually shared information about his background, Marie found some of it interesting and some disturbing. He grew up in Johnston City, a small coal-mining town in southern Illinois, with his parents, Alan and Bernice; a brother, Thomas; and a sister, Malia. Like most of the other local men, his father worked in the mines. They were poor, Richard had told her. They had clean clothes, ample food, and proper schooling, but nothing more.
He told her when he was five years old, he orchestrated a backyard circus comprised of all the neighborhood pets who could do at least one trick. He charged the neighbors five cents to attend. The neighbors thoroughly enjoyed the show, and Richard had made enough money to buy a metal dump truck he had seen in the window at the local hardware store. Now proudly displayed on one of his bookshelves in his home office, it was still one of his most prized possessions.
At eight, without discussing it with his parents, he took his dog Brandy over to his neighbor’s fenced in backyard where their male dog was allowed to run freely. Richard watched the two dogs play, chase each oth
er, and jump on top of each other. After an hour or so of play, he took his dog home and waited for her to have puppies. He had no idea how that worked, but after Brandy had had her last litter, he had heard his father say, “She must have been playing around with that mongrel next door.”
When his father discovered Brandy was pregnant again, he threatened to shoot the dog. Not wanting his plan foiled, Richard begged him not to do it. Eventually Alan gave in to his pleas as long as Richard had the dog out of the house before the puppies were born. Brandy had her litter behind their shed, and when the puppies were old enough, Richard peddled them off on their neighbors, going door to door with his sad little face and tale of woe about how his family couldn’t afford to keep them. He never told his parents that he made over twelve dollars selling the puppies.
It didn’t surprise Marie that his salesmanship skills stemmed from an early age, but she found it unsettling that he was looking for opportunities to make money so early, not to mention the duplicity in the puppy story. Richard had laughed when he told her the story, but Marie hadn’t thought it was at all funny.
Also unsettling to Marie was that Richard didn’t talk about his family with much feeling or emotion, not like when he talked about his childhood shenanigans or ways to make money. Marie would have chosen family over material things during any point in her life. Richard treated his family as a thing of the past—just something he had to tolerate until he could go out on his own.
After high school, with no money to go to college, Richard went to the nearest big city, Chicago, to find work. He landed a job at the largest medical supply company in the country. He sold his heart out until he discovered the other salesmen were loafing around most of the time, selling half as much as he was and getting the same pay. So he put together some figures for the owner, crafted a winning presentation, and asked to be paid straight commission, something they had never done before.
Richard eventually left the medical supply business to sell high-end medical equipment; autoclaves, X-ray machines, incubators, ventilators, iron lungs, defibrillators and more. In short time he had his own territory.
Some things Richard talked freely about, like his network of friends, acquaintances, colleagues, and customers, which he claimed numbered well into the thousands. Unfortunately, no one from his hometown, including his family, made it into his network.
After Richard had been selling medical equipment for three years and dating Marie for a couple of months, he showed up at her apartment one evening with a bottle of champagne. This was the first time he had ever come over unannounced. Once inside, he picked her up and twirled her around.
“What’s this all about?” she had asked.
“Honey, we are cel-e-brat-ing tonight!”
“Well, tell me! What are we celebrating?”
“You know the big account I have with Fiefield Hospital outside of Milwaukee. I’ve talked about it a number of times.” She nodded. “Well, they’ve decided to build a 200,000-square-foot addition, and guess who just got the exclusive order to furnish all, I said all of the equipment?” He grinned from ear to ear.
“That’s wonderful!”
“I figure I’ll make as much in commissions on this order alone as I did in total the last two years combined!”
The crack of the champagne cork echoed throughout her apartment. “Get the glasses…quick!”
“And they are including me in on some of the design meetings to make sure they build the right space for the equipment. Sweetheart, they plan to build an iron lung ward that will hold fifteen people. That alone is more than I have ever sold in an entire year.”
“Sounds like you’re going to be spending a lot of time in Milwaukee.”
“I know, hon. That’s the only downside. But we’ll work through it.” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I have to work out a hundred details about how I’m going to be able to pull this off without jeopardizing my other accounts.” He shot her a grimace. “The boss had the gall to suggest that I team up with someone and split the commissions. Ha! That’ll be the day.”
“When will all this start?”
“They don’t plan to break ground until the spring, and then it will take a year to a year and a half to build it. I have a preliminary meeting with them and the architects next week. I have hit the jackpot!” He took her glass, put it on the counter, and swung her around the kitchen. His eyes glistened. “Let’s go dancing tonight.”
“Richard, I think you need to calm down, or you’ll be the one who needs the iron lung.”
“Nonsense! I’m invincible! Didn’t you know that?”
* * *
It was in February 1946, just days before their wedding when Marie and Richard left his apartment at five a.m. in an attempt to arrive at his parents’ home in time for dinner. Marie was excited about the trip and hoped things would surface during the visit that would expose family ties that Richard had thus far circumvented.
The interminable ride to Johnston City, all three hundred miles of it, was comprised mostly of expansive flat fields and trees whose branches were weighed down by snow and ice. The landscape didn’t change much from one mile to the next, like one Christmas card scene after another and another and another, as they moved through small towns like Kankakee, Paxton, and Rantoul.
The radio blared.
Headin’ for the station with a pack on my back
I’m tired of transportation in the back of a hack
“Richard, you haven’t really told me very much about them,” she said to him after a couple of hours.
He made a face. “Where do I start? Johnston City, Illinois. Where all the men work in those god-awful coal mines, ten, sometimes twelve hours a day. My dad is still there as far as I know.”
She couldn’t help but notice his usual confident demeanor suddenly turning awkward when he spoke of his family. “You don’t see your parents very often.”
His eyes were vacant, his lips tight. “No.”
“So you don’t keep in touch with your brother or sister, either?”
“I don’t go home very often, Marie. When I left there for Chicago, with just $48.25 in my pocket by the way, I swore I’d never look back. And I haven’t.”
“Not much to start out with.” His story disturbed her. She would have given anything to have a family.
“No, it wasn’t.”
“So your penchant for sales didn’t come from your father?”
“My what?”
“Penchant…your liking.”
“Hell, no. I had to come up with my own ways to make money.”
At lunch he told her about his teenage years. “I used to go down to the local bar and look for someone to play pool with. Easy money.”
“Other teens?”
“No. Grown men. Out-of-towners. Chumps, mostly. They looked at me, this gangly little kid, and thought I’d be a pushover for a few bucks.”
“So you were good?”
“Not really. But all I had to do was watch their first couple of shots, find their weak spot, and then play into it. Ha! Piece a cake.”
Tuscola, Mattoon, Effingham. All the small towns looked the same after a while. It may have been three hundred miles by the map, Marie thought, but it felt much longer driving it. The radio broke their silence between conversations.
Cold hard labor, it’s the labor of love
Convicted of crimes, the crimes of passion
Caught in a chain gang, the chains of fools
Solitary confinement, confined by the rules
“Not exactly what one wants to hear a week before getting married,” he said, referring to the song lyrics.
“I’ll change the station. If you hear the rest of it, you may change your mind,” she teased.
As they drove through Mount Vernon, the town adjacent to his family home, the countryside slowly turned into a haphazard sprawl of small homes and run-down businesses.
“Well, my darling, we’re almost there. Now, don’t expect much.
They live in a small…”
“Richard, please don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Apologize for what they have or don’t have. Let me form my own opinions…okay?”
He sent her a sidelong glance. “Whatever you say, dear.”
It was a small house, too small to imagine five people living in all at one time. Alan and Bernice met them at the front door. Bernice wore her long black hair tied up in a bun at the back of her head. Her dress was worn but clean. Her hands revealed a lifetime of hard work.
“Come in. Come in.” Bernice hugged Marie without being introduced. Her husband Alan stood behind her with an expressionless face. He wore an old pair of jeans and a stark, white tee-shirt on his too-thin body. He nodded at Richard as he ran his fingers through his thinning hair.
“Come here, son. It’s so good to see you!”
Richard stooped down to give his mother a kiss on the cheek.
“Sit down. Sit down. Dinner is almost ready,” she instructed.
Richard’s brother and sister were already seated at the table. Both were younger than he, though they looked older.
The furnishings were exceedingly modest, nothing even remotely approaching modern or matching for that matter. The few pieces of upholstered furniture were close to threadbare with towels and rags covering the worst areas on the arms and headrests. The walls hadn’t seen fresh paint in some time, and the hardwood floors had obviously seen better days.
“Something smells good, Mrs. Marchetti,” Marie commented, unable to identify the aroma. “Can I help you with anything?” She heard Richard snicker behind her. Marie had limited cooking skills. She would get him for that later.
“No, everything is done. I’ve just been keeping it warm until you got here. How was the drive, Richard?”
The Coach House Page 3
