An hour later they dressed and he stood at the door holding her. “Thank you. I needed that. Don’t worry, I love you. I’ll be okay.” he said, starting down the stairs.
Sunday, Vic felt better. He knew he loved Darlene and tried to avoid thinking about Shirley. The mid-terms were coming up and he spent most of the day studying.
Tuesday afternoon, he slipped into the tie shop across from the Palmer House at five-fifteen and looked out the window. He saw Shirley a few minutes later at the entrance to Vinny’s. She stopped and looked around before entering. At five-forty, he started out, planning to meet her, but stopped before crossing the street, then backed away and turned, rushing back into the building so he could exit on Monroe.
Slowly, he walked back to the lounge at Roosevelt College. Not many seats or tables were occupied, only a few bridge players and some people trying to study were there. In the back, a couple of guys were sleeping and another was talking with his arm around a girl. Vic settled into a worn brown leather chair off to the side where it was quiet. He was confused and angry with himself. Shirley was trouble and he hated that he was tempted by her.
Head back he drifted off, but stirred twenty minutes later when he heard a loud noise from where the card players were sitting. Shaking himself awake, his thoughts turned to Darlene. If she ever found out that he had been with Shirley at Vinny’s and had driven her home, it would be over for them.
He sat there for about an hour; then slowly gathered his books. On the way out of the school, he stopped at the phones along the wall and dialed Darlene.
Hearing his voice, she answered, “Hi, I thought you were busy tonight.”
“I was, but I just wanted to tell you that I love you.”
“I love you too. That’s all?”
“Yeah, that’s all. Good night Darlene,” he said slowly returning the phone to its cradle.
Exiting onto Michigan Avenue, he began walking slowly to his car. His pace quickened as he felt relieved of a heavy weight on his shoulders.
Dinner that Friday at Sambo’s was fun. Darlene had a new hairdo. It was shorter and swept to one side, which made her look much sharper. When Vic first saw it, he let out a long whistle. With a delighted giggle, she spun around giving him a better view.
“Do you like it?”
“I love it,” he replied, cocking his head and closing one eye, as if he were deciding. .
“Are you sure? Or are you just being nice? It’s the latest style and I just wanted a change. I’ve been wearing bangs and long hair for a long time.”
“Truthfully, I think it looks great; sophisticated and very stylish.”
When the waitress gushed, “Oh, I love your hair,” Darlene smiled broadly saying, “Thank you.”
“You know what, it’s sensuous,” Vic said, with an impish grin..
“Oh, yeah, I’ll bet, she said, rolling her eyes. “And what’s going on with you? You sound better now that exams are over.”
“I feel better. All that intensive therapy from my private physician really worked wonders. In fact I think I’m going to have to schedule another appointment soon so I don’t have a relapse.”
“Good Idea. If I were you, though, I’d call for an appointment as soon as possible. You never know how busy doctors are these days.”
The ribs, as always, were good and they both laughed when Darlene asked, “Do I still look sophisticated, stylish and what did you say, sensuous, with barbeque sauce all over my face and hands?”
“Yeah, more so,” he laughed, trying to pinch her thigh under the table.
The balance of the weekend passed quickly. He worked Saturday and they had dinner at his folks’ house with his sisters and his brother and his wife. Sunday, he studied during the day and he and Darlene watched “What’s My Line,” at her house in the evening.
Chapter 15
By the time David was two, he was talking up a storm and learning to swim. At five, the tall curly haired boy could count up to a hundred and recite the alphabet. He was also well-coordinated and could throw and catch a ball. Entering school, he excelled at almost every activity and received straight A’s on his report card. If it weren’t for a little mischievous streak, which Shirley perceived was caused by curiosity, he would have been perfect.
The year David was seven, they moved from the apartment in Budlong Woods to a new, three bedroom bi-level near a park in Skokie. Working with the builder, Shirley settled on light grey carpet in the L-shaped living/dining room and upstairs bedrooms with cream-colored tile for the kitchen. Four stairs down, in the half-basement recreation room, she chose a tile of mixed cork tones. Fortunately, their light rose-patterned couch and easy chair and the bedroom furniture from the apartment fit nicely in the new house, with plenty of room to spare. In addition, she had a list, which continued to grow, of things she would need to change and/or replace as they settled in to the new house. The day after they moved in, Howie surprised her with the delivery of a two-year-old red Ford station wagon as a present. “You’ll need it now that we live in the suburbs,” he grinned handing her the keys.
The major thing they wanted, but didn’t have, was another child. Both were deeply disappointed when the doctor assured them that Shirley was healthy but could not explain why she could not get pregnant. They also didn’t socialize much. Shirley met several neighbors and was still friendly with a lot of the girls from high school, but because of Howie’s unpredictable work schedule, it was impossible to make plans to go out for an evening with other couples.
“Look, Shirley,” he would complain, “we go places all the time. Don’t I take you and David out to eat and don’t we go to Kiddieland and even the park once in awhile? I don’t have time to hang around with the buncha squares your girlfriends are married to. Don’t you see enough of them when I’m not around?”
Working with Paschey for the last several years had begun to present new and better opportunities for Howie. Aside from the gambling, book-making and juice loans, he was now in charge of a call girl operation that was attracting a lot of conventioneers and men who hung around the bars and restaurants on the Near North Side. He felt good being one of the guys that knew where all the action was in the city. It was an element that he loved, which now included a girlfriend he had set up in an apartment close to Lincoln Park. Aside from some bad bets and a losing streak from time to time, he was living good.
Shirley appreciated that money was no longer a problem, but worried constantly about where the money came from. Because he was so tight-lipped, she was sure he was doing illegal things, which frightened her. They didn’t have a bank account or credit anywhere. Everything was paid for in cash. Once in awhile, he would bring her an expensive piece of jewelry without mentioning where he got it, or what it was that they were celebrating. Sometimes a new television or other appliance for the house would be delivered as a surprise and again, no explanation.
On her twenty-seventh birthday, he surprised her by coming home early.
“Okay, close your eyes!” he hollered, coming in the door.
Hearing him, she came up from the basement, giggling, “What’s going on?”
“Just turn around and close your eyes. It’s your birthday and I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“Oh, my God, I thought you would forget. You usually do.”
“Well, not this time; just do as I say and don’t turn around until I say so.”
Grinning, she did as he requested. Behind her, she heard the front door open and heard him bump the wall bringing something in.
“Now turn around and don’t open your eyes,” he said, trying to control a laugh.
Keeping her eyes covered, she took in an excited deep breath.
He positioned himself four feet in front of her and stood holding a large white box secured with an ostentatious pink bow.
“Okay bir
thday girl, now open your eyes,” he announced proudly.
“Slowly, she lowered her hands. Her eyes opened wide as she viewed the outsized package. When Howie began to laugh hysterically, she gasped, “What is it?” He motioned to her to open it.
Attacking the package, trying to preserve the gorgeous bow, she breathlessly sputtered, “It’s so beautiful.”
Discarding the ribbon, she asked for his help pulling off the lid. Reaching in carefully through the tissue paper, he lifted up a long, flowing, dark mink coat as the carton dropped with a thud.
Shirley’s one hand went to her mouth as she reached out with the other to feel the luxurious fur. “Oh Howie, it’s stunning,I don’t know what to say.”
“Try it on,” he suggested, holding it up.
“I can’t, Look at me,” she protested, feeling that her washed out tee shirt and cotton shorts looked out of place next to the elegant coat.
Grinning and holding the coat open, he coaxed her, “C’mon, you look great.”
Slowly, she slipped one arm into the sleeve and let him help her with the other as she pulled the elegant fur around her.
Turning, her eyes sparkling, she stood on tip toes. “I have to wear heels to go out in this coat,” she gushed, eyes wide and then groaned, “but look at me! My hair’s a mess and no makeup.”
“Oh for cryin’ out loud, you look gorgeous just the way you are.”
Her arms encircled his neck, pulling him close.
“I love you, Howie, This is the most beautiful surprise.”
“I can’t wait until you show your mother and father. They’re always worrying about how I take care of you.”
She bit her lower lip at the mention of her folks and relaxed her grip on him.
“I know my mother is going to love it. It’s much nicer than her coat,” she whispered.
When David came in a half-hour later, she still was wearing the coat, but had brushed her hair and put on a pair of high heels.
She insisted he feel the coat and he smiled at the sumptuous touch, but asked how come she was wearing it in the house.
The following day, she tried the coat on with heels and fresh makeup to see how she looked in the long bedroom mirror. It felt and looked elegant, but she worried about where the money came from for such luxury.
On Sundays, Howie would peel off a hundred dollars in twenties from a large roll secured with a heavy rubber band and give it to her for the house expenses. In the meantime if he didn’t come home for a few days he would go into a rage if she questioned him about where he was or what he had been doing. His answer was to tell her to shut up and not worry about him. Wasn’t he taking good care of her? His outbursts began terrifying her. A few weeks after giving her the coat, he came home at eleven on a Saturday morning after being gone for two days without so much as a call. David was outside playing when he came in carrying his suit jacket over his shoulder.
“Look who’s here she said, her voice having a noticeable sarcastic ring.
“Hi, he answered not looking her way, “anything going on?”
“Is that all you have to say, where the hell have you been“
“I had business to tend to,” he said picking up the newspaper and heading for the living room.
“For God’s sake, Howie, “she whined. You’re not home for days and that’s all you have to say. I’ve been worrying and waiting for you because I ran out of money without knowing how to get hold of you.”
Turning back and fumbling in his pocket for the rubber band roll he threw five twenties on the table. “Here, goddammit,” he yelled. “Now quit bothering me you spoiled bitch.”
Raising her hand to slap him, he moved quickly grabbing her wrist, twisting it back, pushing her into the kitchen table. She fell hitting her head as he let go.
“Now just mind your own business,” he hissed backing away.
Holding back tears, she held on the table to get up and slumped into a chair rubbing her jaw where it hit the table. She heard the television go on and the paper rustle in the living room as he settled in to read.
The only time he was always on good behavior was if David was around. He showered the boy with gifts, bicycles, trains and the latest fads in kids clothing. He also liked to take David and her to some of the city’s best restaurants. Downtown and the near north-side hot spots all knew the Rabins. Whether it was Fritzels, The Whitehall, The Pump Room, or any of the other fine restaurants or bistros, a big tipper like Howie Rabin knew the right people, and it was never a problem to get a good table.
Day after day she continued worrying, never knowing where the money came from. She also didn’t like some of his friends whose names occasionally would hit the front pages of the newspapers for some shady deal.
Chapter 16
Darlene was at the small dressing table in the bedroom, of their third floor apartment on Kimball just south of Bryn Mawr. As she brushed her hair, she and Vic were having their usual morning conversation through the open door across the hall. He was tying his tie at the bathroom mirror..
“Can you believe we’ll be married three years next week,” she said sounding upbeat.
“Yeah, it’s great and that little guy in the next room makes it even better,” he nodded with a smile. .
“By the way, did you ask the baby sitter if she could stay later that night so we can go out to dinner?”
“Yep, I got it covered.”
Applying her lipstick, she watched Vic out of the corner of her eye looking at himself. “You’re looking sharp today. What’s up?”
“I’m meeting Frank for lunch at Purity’s and knowing how he dresses, I can’t look like a bum.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, in fact, he sounded excited about something.”
Darlene shook her head as she blotted her lipstick. “You guys are unbelievable. He thinks you can walk on water and you think he’s the sharpest guy in the world.”
“Don’t laugh, you know all the women love him and he’s a great salesman.”
“Yeah, yeah. Of course I don’t think he’s as good looking as you. But give him my love,” she said, kissing Vic’s cheek as he headed out.
Frankie, waiting in a rear booth, waved to Vic as he entered the old restaurant. The place hadn’t changed much over the years. Everything from the asphalt tile floors to the plastic-covered seats and formica tables was either bright yellow or a shade of kosher hot dog red. Only the gray tin ceiling with the flickering fluorescent bulbs broke the pattern. The loud waitresses and counter men, most of them old timers, had about as much mileage on them as the old deli itself. The fragrance of freshly cooked corned beef as he came in brought back memories of high school lunches.
Still thin at thirty, his hair slightly receding, Frank looked sharp. His tan corduroy jacket, dark brown slacks and lighter brown plaid shirt with a tan wool tie, made him look like a model from Esquire. Cordovan loafers and manicured nails completed his prosperous appearance. Not wanting to be shown up by his older brother, Vic, wearing a dark grey herringbone jacket with charcoal pants and a black knit tie, was looking pretty successful and businesslike himself.
Shaking hands, Vic slid into the booth. “Jesus, we look out of place here with all the school kids and women with babies. Oh, and look at those two sharp guys from the fish store,” he said, chuckling as he looked at the men wearing caps and blood spotted aprons sitting across the way.
Frank grinned. “Oh for cryin’ out loud, nobody in this place could care less, not one of ‘em even gave us another look. They’re too busy eating or arguing and telling stories. But I gotta’ admit, you’re lookin’ good; how things going with Darlene and the kid?”
“Okay, but I’m bustin’ my ass trying to keep all the bills paid and Darlene is still working at the United Fund, which pays a lot better than what
it costs for the baby sitter.”
“They really like her there, don’t they?”
“Yeah, her boss is still involved in politics and after all the work she did on the Stevenson campaign last year he wants her to continue to work for him. Of course she likes it and I do too. I met a lot of important people working with her during the election and who knows, some day those contacts may come in handy. “
“Well look who’s here,” interrupted Gladys, the busty blonde waitress Vic remembered from his high school days. Still there, and still wearing a tight fitting short black uniform and a toothy smile.
“How ya doin’ Frankie, haven’t seen you for a while.”
Frank winked, returning her smile. “been busy, tryin’ to make a living. How about you? I see you’re looking as hot as ever.”
Her smile widened showing dimples as she giggled, “you still married?”
“Yeah, but I’m not dead, so don’t worry, I still love you.”
“Yeah, you and all the other phonies who hang out around here; hey, who’s this good lookin’ guy. It can’t be your little brother, the one that used to order a hot dog and fries all the time. Look at him, all grown up and even better lookin’ than you. You guys almost look like twins. “
“Easy Gladys, he’s an old married guy too,” laughed Frank.
“Well, just in case, I still get off about 4:00,” Gladys said, a wicked smile brightening her face. “Okay, what can I get you guys?”
Frank shook his head, as Gladys headed back to the kitchen, “man look at how she shakes that ass, still looks good for an old broad. I remember when I used to run around with her when I first got back from the Army.”
Vic smiled, “I think she’s still interested.”
Still shaking his head, Frank grinned raising his eyebrows..
“So, what’s so important that you wanted to talk about?” Vic asked, taking his eyes off Gladys. At the same time, he noticed his older brother suddenly appear serious, shifting in his seat with a small crease showing at the bridge of his nose, as if he wasn’t just having their usual conversation. It was more than that; he had something on his mind.
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