The Coach House

by Florence Osmund

  “Why the paper and pencil?”

  “I had to write my secret thoughts. Thinking them wasn’t enough.”

  “Tell me one.”

  “I used to think what it would be like to have brothers and sisters. I remember making a list of the pros and cons. The pros won by a landslide.”

  His smile was faint.

  “So where was your secret place?” she asked.

  “In the attic of the shed behind our house. I would sneak up there when I thought no one was looking. Each time I went up there, I would bring something else up. A book. An empty tin of crackers. An old screwdriver. Anything I could get away with. Then I’d lie on the makeshift bed and pretend I didn’t live in that small ramshackle of a house out in front. I used to spend a lot of time there,” he admitted.

  “What did you think about when you were up there?”

  “My father.” There was a catch in his voice.

  “What about your father?”

  “It’s not important now.”

  Marie tried not to read too much thought into his story. They slowed down to a gentle stop, and he helped her off the swing. When her feet hit the ground, they were standing face to face, not more than six inches apart. With his arms still around her, he leaned in and kissed her, so lightly she wondered if he had even kissed her at all. She wanted to kiss him back but didn’t. Holding her hands in his, he pulled back slightly and looked at her for several seconds, the corners of his mouth turning up slowly. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

  A year later that kiss was still so memorable.

  * * *

  Two dozen red roses were delivered to Marie’s office on the Friday following the Dodgers’ game. The note read:

  So in love with you am I

  Happy aniversary

  love,

  R

  At first Marie didn’t get it. The song “So In Love” from Kiss Me Kate was their song, but their anniversary was in February, not September. Then it dawned on her. It was the first anniversary of the day they met.

  “Wow! What a big bouquet!” said Esther when she entered Marie’s office. They had made plans to go to the Cultural Center to view the new WWII exhibit right after work.

  “I know. Isn’t it gorgeous? I guess I should buy him something, too, but I don’t know what.”

  “What’s the occasion?”

  “The one-year anniversary of when we met.”

  “He’s such a romantic, I can’t stand it. If you can’t think of what to get him, you could surprise him with something for the anniversary of another event instead,” Esther suggested. “Like your first date?”

  “That would be the first day we met.”

  “First kiss?”

  Marie gave her an embarrassing look. “Same day,” she confessed.

  “First roll in the hay?”

  “Esther!”

  “Well?”

  “C’mon. Let’s go to the exhibit.”

  They entered the Cultural Center to the sound of “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy.” Photographs of smiling soldiers coming off boats, planes, and trains lined the walls along with pictures of children running up to their daddies and wives waiting to hug their husbands after being separated for months.

  The most prominent photograph was the one of the young sailor bending over the woman in the nurse’s uniform planting a kiss on her mouth in the middle of Times Square. Titled The Kiss, it had been printed in almost every newspaper across the country when they announced the end of the war.

  He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way

  He had a boogie style that no one else could play

  He was the top man at his craft

  But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

  He’s in the army now, blowing reveille

  He’s the boogie woogie bugle boy of Company B

  Uniforms from all the armed forces lined one wall. Cases of medals filled the center of the room, sadly separated from their rightful owners. A variety of run-down artillery hung on the walls.

  The next room was larger with wartime posters covering one wall, some in support of the war and some not. A display case of picture postcards depicted the same mixed sentiments. Some posters illustrated work that was being done on the home front—women selling war bonds and working Rosie the Riveter jobs. Ration books, stamps, and tokens were displayed next to photographs of long lines in front of grocery stores. “Over There” played in the background.

  As the two women strolled though each room of the exhibit, they talked about how the war had affected them, their family and friends. With nearly six years of fighting, it was hard not to have a story that hit close to home. Tears welled up in Esther’s eyes. “I lost a cousin and a step-brother to this war. I’m so glad it’s over.”

  They strolled through a room filled with political cartoons and scenes from wartime films. One series of political cartoons caught Marie’s attention. “Esther, these are by Dr. Seuss. I didn’t know there was a political side to him, did you?”

  “No. I thought he just wrote children’s books.”

  “He did, and in fact, it says here that some of his children’s books contained political themes as well. Did you know that Yertle the Turtle is really a story about dictators?” It was eerie to see characters in the wartime cartoons so closely resembling those in his children’s books.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “That’s what it says.”

  “Amazing.”

  The last room was devoted to foreign wartime memorabilia. Artifacts from Germany, France, Great Britain, and Japan were disturbing reminders of the war’s magnitude.

  “This seems to be the end. Richard’s out of town. Want to go for a bite to eat?” Esther nodded. “How about the Blackstone? They have the best fried chicken in town.”

  The two women were seated at a table near the window in the hotel’s first floor café. “You know the story behind this hotel, don’t you?” she asked Esther.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “They call it the ‘Hotel of the Presidents’ because so many presidents have stayed here. In fact, Richard told me that the phrase ‘smoke-filled rooms’ originated here when Harding was chosen as the Republican candidate behind closed doors. And the presidential suite even has hollowed-out walls for secret service men.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I don’t know for sure, but that’s what Richard told me.”

  “So how is lover boy and married life?”

  Marie gave her a disapproving look. Esther rarely called him by his name. “Life is wonderful. It honestly is,” Marie said with a blissful smile.

  “No regrets?”

  “Absolutely none.”

  “Because if I remember correctly, you were having some doubts right before the wedding.”

  “Not serious doubts,” Marie clarified. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s not perfect…and, of course, neither am I. But I feel what have together is very special, and the few rough spots we have will eventually get ironed out.”

  “Rough spots?”

  “Well, that might not be the right phrase.”

  “Anything you want to talk about?”

  “It’s nothing, really. It’s just that there’s this little private world he has that’s off limits. It bothers me, but when I try to see things through his eyes, I can almost understand why he’s that way. I’m hoping he’ll open up more with time. Have you ever known anyone like that?”

  “Yes. My father. But his private world involved another woman.”

  “Oh, I’m sure that’s not the case with Richard. No, it’s business with him.”

  “You’re sure of that?”

  “Yes, of that I’m sure.” She rolled her eyes. “His only mistress is money.”

  “Well, like you say, it will probably get better in time. You’ve known him for only a year. That’s really no time at all.”

  “I know. C’mon. I’ll drive you home.” Marie stood up from her ch
air and then froze.

  “What’s wrong?” Esther asked.

  “I could have sworn that was Richard’s car that just went by,” Marie said, flatly. He wouldn’t have said he was going out of town and then not go. Would he? “Well, I’m sure there must be dozens just like it. Ready, Esther?”

  CHAPTER 5

  Capone

  Catherine’s health continued to deteriorate, and Marie took on even more responsibility at Marshall Field’s. With the Christmas holiday fast approaching, she spent much of her time preparing for the more than 250,000 shoppers expected to visit the store. She asked Catherine one day about the schedule for decorating the renowned Christmas windows.

  “What! Good gawd. I forgot all about them! I’ve been so busy with opening up these two new floors and dealing with the inside decorations… oh, my. What’s the date today?”

  “The twenty-ninth.”

  “They have to be up by the fifth!”

  “Catherine, that’s six days from now.”

  “I’ll call the supplier. You and Esther strip down all the windows so when the materials arrive, we don’t have that much more to do. Damn them. Why on earth didn’t they call me? They know our schedule better than I do!”

  This year’s theme was Snow White, and the characters could not be delivered until the third, leaving less than forty-eight hours to complete all the windows. Marie took the reins. They couldn’t disappoint that many shoppers during the weeks before Christmas.

  It took five trucks to deliver everything needed for the window displays. The supplier agreed to allow all five drivers to stay for the assembly, as many hours as it took. Marie was able to get the janitors, drivers, several sales clerks, and shop men to help after their regular shift. She called a meeting with everyone involved to establish a game plan. It was a tight schedule, and every one of them had a long list of specific duties with inflexible deadlines. Everyone was on board.

  The store closed at 7:00 p.m. on December fourth. At 7:01, Marie’s thirty-eight helpers went to work. Marie, along with everyone else, didn’t want Catherine there, as she would surely muck things up. “You have to trust me on this,” she told Catherine. “We have a plan, and it’s in motion right now. It’s different from the way it’s been done in the past, but we’re confident it will work. Please go home and leave everything to me.”

  “If Mr. Bakersfield comes in tomorrow and the windows aren’t perfect, I’m telling you, heads will roll!” Her breathing became more labored by the minute.

  “Catherine, you’re going to make yourself sick over this. Everything is under control. I promise you.”

  The work was finished by four a.m. Marie called Catherine. “All the windows are finished, and they look great. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “Are you kidding? I never went to sleep. Are you sure? There were no glitches? There are always glitches.”

  “Sure there were glitches, but nothing we couldn’t handle. You’ll see when you come in. They’re all perfect.”

  “You’re a godsend, Marie. Thank you and I’ll see you tomorrow. Go home and get some sleep.”

  * * *

  “You worked until when?” Richard asked when he returned from his three-day business trip.

  “Four o’clock, but I didn’t get home until close to six. I gave Esther a ride home.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. It wasn’t your mistake!”

  “I helped save the store from embarrassment,” she said with a sense of loyalty he obviously didn’t understand, “and an angry board. People come from all over the country to see these windows, and they expect them to be done twenty days before Christmas, the same time every year. It’s even been advertised in the Tribune and on the radio.”

  “I’m not sure I would have gone that route.”

  “Why not? We’re all part of the same team.”

  “You’re a better team player than me.”

  “Than I.”

  He shot her a look. “Than most people.” She didn’t like his tone. “So, you’re probably too tired to go out tonight.” Before she could say anything, he added, “We’ll stay in. We should talk about Christmas anyway. I’ll go out and pick up some Chinese.” An hour later, Richard arrived home with a bag of Chinese food in one hand and a bouquet of store-bought flowers in the other.

  “How pretty! What’s the occasion?” she asked looking for the right vase.

  “The occasion is that I shouldn’t have criticized you for working all night.” He kissed her. “Of course, it was the right thing to do.”

  “Well, thank you, but you didn’t have to buy me flowers.” She looked at the arrangement. “Sure is nice to get ones that haven’t been stolen from a neighbor’s yard, though,” she teased.

  “I had a thought while I was in the car. Let’s go to Aspen for Christmas!” he beamed.

  “Aspen?” Marie pictured their first Christmas together in their own place, complete with presents under the tree and a fire in the fireplace.

  “Yes, Aspen. You know…skiing.”

  “We don’t know how to ski, Richard.”

  “We can take lessons!”

  “I don’t know,” Marie said with apprehension.

  “C’mon. It’ll be fun. I hear they now have a chair lift that takes you up the mountain. That would be worth the trip in itself!”

  “How did they get up there before?”

  “By Jeep.”

  “The Jeep sounds safer.”

  “Marie, where’s your sense of adventure?”

  “You don’t want to spend Christmas with your family? Your mother has invited us down.”

  “Well, we did have Thanksgiving with them.”

  She looked at her husband who bore resemblance to a five-year-old boy being told there was no Santa Claus. “Okay,” she conceded.

  Marie’s low expectations of the five-day Aspen trip were disproven once she got there. They took ski lessons in the morning, had a hot lunch in the ski lodge, and then went out on the slopes. Evenings were spent in the lodge where they drank hot, spiced concoctions while bragging about their runs with the other skiers.

  On the last day of their trip, Marie awoke alone in their room. She looked out the window at the two men who were walking away from the lodge towards the parking lot. A man who resembled Richard was doing all the talking and had his arm around the other man’s shoulders. They disappeared behind a row of evergreen trees.

  “Hi! Where have you been?” she asked him when he returned to the room. He had a newspaper tucked up under his arm.

  “Oh, just picking up the paper. Something to read over breakfast. Are you ready to go to the dining room? If we hurry, we can get in one more run before we have to leave for the airport.”

  The knot in her stomach grew quickly. Why would he hide something like just talking with another man? “I’m ready for breakfast, but I’m tired of skiing. I’d rather go into town and do a little shopping if you don’t mind.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?”

  “Not if you’d rather ski.”

  “Are you sure? You won’t mind going alone?”

  “Not at all. You go ski, and I’ll see how good a job I can do shopping,” she said through a forced smile.

  Before heading out on her shopping trip, Marie stopped at the front desk to see what time they needed to be checked out of their room. “By one,” the desk clerk told her. “But it will be crowded then, so if you have a flight to catch or anything, you might want to come down sooner than that. Just about everyone is leaving today due to the snow conditions.”

  “The snow conditions?”

  “You didn’t see the announcement board? All the slopes have been closed for the next forty-eight hours.”

  Marie walked into the lounge and sat down to think about whether she should find Richard since he couldn’t ski. Deciding he would be fine on his own, she stood with a small crowd of other guests waiting for the courtesy car to bring them into town.

  “So how was your m
orning?” she asked Richard when she returned to their room, arms laden with packages.

  “Great! My best run ever!” He rushed over to her and gave her a hug. “I missed you like crazy.” He looked at her shopping bag. “What did you do, buy out Aspen?” he laughed.

  She stayed in his embrace as long as she could, staring into his chest trying to decide whether to call him on his lie. What is it that he doesn’t want me to know? Is it what he was doing, who he was doing it with, or just the fact that he was doing something other than skiing? She wanted to know what he was up to but knew it could ruin the trip if she confronted him. Even more disappointing, she suspected every time she questioned him about something, it weakened the chances of cultivating the family she so desperately craved.

  She pulled away from him and picked up one of the parcels. “Look! I bought us matching ski goggles for our next trip.” Her voice quivered.

  He examined the goggles. “Very nice,” he said.

  Marie made a sudden exit toward the bathroom. She closed the door and leaned her back up against it, the tension in her face building in preparation for the tears. She waited for the upsetting moment to stop and then splashed her face with cool water, took in a deep breath, and exhaled.

  It was going to be an arduous trip home.

  * * *

  Certain the lies Richard told in Aspen were related to his business, Marie tried to convince herself that he hid things from her for her own good, somehow protecting her. Now, a week later, she wished she had confronted him, but at the time she feared he would have blown up at her and somehow thrown it back in her face, like she was making something out of nothing, like the first time he had blown up at her. They had closed on their new house the week before and moved in together. It was the morning of their wedding day. She remembered it as if it were yesterday.