Albany Park

by Myles (Mickey) Golde

  “He’s out of town working on something new,” she said trying to hold him as he pulled away.

  “That old guy Paschey always scared me.. I don’t know how Dad could stand him and he always uses swear words.”

  Putting her hand on David’s shoulder, she tried to calm him, “Look honey, Dad assured me that he knew something had happened to Paschey, but he is not involved. He is worried though and wants us to be careful. That’s all I know.”

  Turning he let her hug him and rested his head next to hers.

  “You know what? Things are sorta hectic right now. How would you like a day off? I know I can use one. Let’s go for breakfast at Walker’s in Wilmette.

  “Hmm,” he smiled and after a long silence shrugged. “Will you split an apple pancake with me?”

  “Sure; let’s.go,” she said, slowly rubbing his back and rising. .“I also promised Grandma I’d be at her house a little later.”

  Holding out her hand, he took it and pulled her up.

  They got to the Siegal’s at eleven. “Oh you brought David, isn’t that a nice surprise? No school today?” Molly said as they walked into the entry hall. She pulled David to her in a hug.

  “And how ‘bout you?” she asked Shirley, looking over her glasses.

  With a quick shake of her head, Shirley replied, “I’m good, but need a favor. David, why don’t you turn on the television in the living room for a few minutes? I want to talk with Grandma about something private.”

  “Sure Mom,” he said, as Shirley guided Molly into the kitchen.

  Mrs. Siegal poured coffee into china cups and sat down. “I heard about Paschey Cohen,” she whispered.

  “Mom, Howie hasn’t had much to do with him for quite some time. In fact, he’s out of town right now working on something new. So I don’t know anything about Paschey except Howie told me not to worry about anything.”

  Mrs. Siegal shook her head slowly. “Are you sure? Your father called me early this morning really upset, as soon as he got to the office. He’d heard the news on the radio and wanted to know where you were. He said you weren’t home when he called and asked me to call him as soon as I heard from you.”

  “You know Daddy has never approved of Howie and is always cautioning me about him. But don’t worry. I talked to him last night and everything is okay. He did tell me to be careful, but not to worry, he would be home soon.”

  Putting her hand on Shirley’s, Molly sighed. “Shirley, you know we worry about you and David, what with Howie’s line of work. I hope you’re right.”

  “Please, Mom, I know you care, but right now, I think everything is under control. Howie did tell me, though, to be careful and stay away from our house for a few days. So I’ve arranged for David and me to stay at Doris’s place for a week. I also want to rent a car because everyone recognizes my station wagon. Will you help me with that? I need you to rent it in your name.”

  “Certainly, but are you sure it’s okay to do that?

  “Yeah, people do it all the time. But do me a favor, don’t say anything to Daddy. “I know how crazy he gets about anything to do with Howie.”

  “I can’t lie to your father, but maybe I won’t say anything right now.” Mrs. Siegal nodded, holding her cup at her lips. “When do we have to get the car?”

  “How about a half an hour and then maybe we’ll all go to a show; “West Side Story” is playing at the Granada and I can use a little diversion right now.”

  On Mannheim Road near the airport, they rented a black, four-door Chevy and drove it to a small strip mall in Skokie two blocks from the Rabin’s house and parked it. Then Molly drove them to pick up the station wagon at her house. Mrs. Siegal begged off going to the movie so the two of them went alone.

  Afterward, they drove to a quiet street two blocks from their house and parked the station wagon. From there they walked to where they had left the Chevy and drove to Doris’ house, near Devonshire Park in Skokie.

  Ten minutes after they arrived, Shirley’s father called. She took his call in the kitchen while Doris went out to the living room and David settled in his cousin’s bedroom to listen to some records. When she hung up, Shirley went to sit with her sister.

  “How’s Daddy?” Doris asked, turning off the TV.

  “You should’ve heard him. He screamed about Howie. Calling him a son of a bitch and telling me that he’d warned me about him. He just wouldn’t let up. I let him rant and rave about how he’s no good and I should get rid of him. And when I told him Howie was out of town, he went ballistic. Finally he sorta ran out of steam and let me know that I could count on him to be there for me and David.”

  “Oh, baby,” Doris said, holding her hand as they sat on the couch. “What about Howie; where is he?”

  “Please, Doris. I really don’t feel like talking right now. He’s okay. All I know is that he’s working on something new out of town and should be home in a few days.”

  “You know what Daddy said goes for me and Jerry too. Anything you need, you just let me know.”

  With her hands covering her eyes, Shirley whispered, “Thank you.”

  Two days later, she went to meet Fred Berman at his office in an older building on Dearborn near Van Buren. Exiting the elevator on the fourth floor, her high heels clicking on the white marble floor, she walked up to the heavy, wood-framed glass doors of the suite. Finding his name, she pushed open the door and went in.

  The carpeted reception area had four maroon leather chairs. Occupying one was an older man in a suit holding a briefcase on his lap and reading the Wall Street Journal. He didn’t bother to look up when she entered. From behind a small, sliding glass window, a young woman in a tailored suit asked if she had an appointment.

  “Mrs. Shirley Rabin to see Mr. Berman,” she said.

  Before she had a chance to be seated, the receptionist opened the door to the inner office and ushered her in, leading the way along a wall lined with dull green metal file cabinets. As they walked, a well-dressed man at the water cooler nodded. Two secretaries typing at light-colored wooden desks piled with stacks of papers ignored her.

  Almost tripping as she caught her heel on the wrinkled tweed carpet, she steadied herself against a cabinet. Phone conversations and the steady click of typewriters gave the impression it was a busy place. As they approached a private office, the receptionist stopped, knocked on the door frame and announced, “Mrs. Rabin.”.

  She recognized him as soon as she walked in. Plain-looking but well built with a receding hairline, she remembered liking his light blue eyes. As he stood to greet her, she saw that even though he was only of moderate height, his finely tailored pinstripe suit gave the impression that he was taller.

  From the moment he shook her hand and sat down at his desk across from her, she liked his gentle manner and felt comfortable with him. Settling into her chair, she glanced around the room. The soft beige walls were sparse except for a few prints of an antique law office and some personal photos. To his right, across from the large windows facing Dearborn, were two simple black frames prominently displaying his License to Practice and his Law degree from John Marshall. Looking out the window, she saw the tops of the flags over the entry to the Sandard Club on the other side of the street. He leaned forward, smiling as he put on a pair of half-glasses and glanced at some notes; then turned his attention to her. “Your husband contacted me the day before yesterday and asked if I would represent the two of you; stressing that it was important that everything we discuss be held in strict confidence. I agreed and hope you understand that you can rely on me. He is concerned that because of what happened this week, he will have to make some major changes in your lives.”

  Her mouth opened as if to say something, but nothing came out but a short gasp and then, holding up her hand motioning him to stop, she murmured. “Mr. Berman, what do you mean by ma
jor changes?”

  Looking over his glasses, he pursed his lips and continued. “First of all, he wants you to know that he left town hoping to protect you and your son, because he knows that if he is here, he may be in danger. He also wants you to know that he will be in Florida working on your future and that you will be moving there soon.”

  “Florida! What do you mean? What are we to do?” she whispered, her jaw quivering.

  “I’ve contacted Phil Cantor about selling the house; he’s a real estate agent I recommended and your husband gave the go-ahead. When it sells, he and I will take care of the details. Howie knows this is abrupt and he is truly upset that he cannot be here, but he wants you and your son to be safe.”

  Shirley raised her hand to interrupt again, but stopped herself and tried to listen as he went on. Fidgeting with her handbag, taking in slow deliberate breaths, she felt nervous as he matter-of-factly discussed changes that Howie had instructed him to tell her would be taking place in her life. Stopping to look up from his notes, he hesitated and asked, “Are you all right? I know that all this has to be a bit of a shock.”

  She shrugged, moving a hand to her mouth, softly saying, “I’m okay.”

  Berman stood and walked around the desk. Standing close to her, he said, “Are you sure?”

  She shook her head, trembling. He reached out to lift her out of the chair and held her arms loosely, her hands tightly gripping her purse.

  “Oh Fred, I know Howie wants to do the right thing, but he’s so secretive that I never can trust him. We’ve been run out of our home and are living with my sister and I have no idea how to deal with my parents. And this thing with Paschey, I’m worried that Howie’s scared and I’m in danger, or someone could be snatching David right now. Tell me Fred, please I beg you, what is going on?” Her hands shook and she dropped her purse. It bounced off the carpet, the latch springing open, a lipstick rolled out.

  As she bent to retrieve her belongings, Berman stopped her, holding her shoulders and looking into her eyes. “Shirley, my friendship with Howie goes back to when we were kids. We lived on the same block and I knew him as one of the guys in the neighborhood. I‘ve only represented him in a few small matters over the years, nothing to do with his business with Paschey. So I can’t give you all the answers you need.”

  He let go of her shoulders and bent down to pick up her bag and lipstick. Composing herself, she sat down as he handed back her purse and then returned to his seat behind the desk.

  “You know,” he said, “I went to school with your older sister and brother-in-law, so I go back quite a way with people from Albany Park. My law practice specializes in real estate, and. when Howie needed a contract for the purchase of your house a few years back, he called me to do the work. Since then, I’ve had no contact with him. Then he called two days ago, from Florida I think, and asked me to do him a favor and help you while he was out of town. One other thing, he asked if he could call you at my office and I agreed as long as we set a convenient time for the call. He didn’t want to call you at home or at your sister’s or your parents’ house.”

  She shrugged.

  “Look, Shirley, Howie was an old friend and I didn’t see any harm helping him out. As for you, I want you to know that I won’t do anything that will hurt you or involve you in anything illegal. In fact, when he asked me for help, I sort of thought that was why he’d called me. He didn’t trust anyone else and wanted someone who was not involved in his business or connected to Paschey in any way. You know, wiretaps, traced calls, that sort of thing.” He waited, glancing at her to see if she understood. “I hope I’m not saying anything that upsets you, but I want you to know that you’re safe when dealing with me.”

  Loosening the hold on her purse, her hand moved to her mouth as she leaned back in the chair, relaxing her shoulders. “Thank you,” she sighed.

  “He said to tell you he’s sorry he can’t be here with you right now, but it’s only for a little while and the less you know, the better for you and your son until he can arrange for you to come to Florida. He wants you to know and understand that he’s safe. And he thinks that you and David will love Florida.”

  “Are you just telling me this to reassure me?” she said softly.

  “No, I’m telling you because he asked me to. And more importantly, he sounded excited and upbeat when we talked. I think he’s just being cautious. He’d never forgive himself if anything happened to you or your son.”

  Shaking her head, her lips curled up slightly into a smile. Her first that day and she stood up, “I hope you’re right. I know my husband and I’m sure he’s doing what he thinks is best.”

  Berman nodded as he rose from his chair.”He said he would be in touch with me soon and I’ll call you as soon as I hear from him.”

  Early the following day, Fred called and said Howie would call her at his office that afternoon at four. She got there fifteen minutes early and was ushered into an empty private office to await the call. After she and Howie finished speaking, she crossed the hall to Fred’s office and tapped on the door. He stood, beckoning her to come in and close the door behind her.

  Turning his way she smiled. “He’s in Fort Lauderdale and very excited about getting situated there. And he’s wiring money here.”

  He nodded. “He’d told me that much when we spoke earlier today. Anything else?”.

  “He’s being introduced to some important people that are interested in helping him. Other than that, he said to stay put and not worry about Paschey. He thinks it’ll blow over in a few weeks and that we’ll be able to move back into the house then. Do you think I should believe what he’s telling me?”

  “I don’t know, and I don’t want to know, but I’m guessing these people in Florida are working out a truce with whoever might be upset with him in Chicago.”

  “Do you think he’s in danger down there?”

  “Look,” he said, his mouth forming a tight line as he watched her lower her eyes. “I know guys like Howie. I grew up in that neighborhood, too. Gambling, booking bets and loaning money is something a lot of guys do. It’s a risky business but Howie’s smart. He’s the kind of guy who keeps his head down and does his job and isn’t likely to get targeted. He’s also not taking any chances. So just relax and tell me a little about your son. And how’s Doris?”

  She leaned in across the desk and they talked for over an hour, mostly about David, but also laughing about some of the neighborhood characters they knew growing up.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she finally said, looking at her watch. “I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time.”

  She gathered up her purse as he came around the desk. Reaching to help her up, he suddenly leaned in, kissing her on the lips. Shirley returned the kiss, taking his hands in hers and pulling him closer.

  After a minute, he shook his head and stepped back. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done that, but somehow I couldn’t stop myself.”

  Shirley looked at him and let out a soft laugh. “Don’t apologize, Fred. I needed that today, and I liked it. I feel safer now for the first time this week. I don’t have people I can confide in.”

  “What about your parents?”

  Shirley sighed. “My folks are wonderful but they’ve never really accepted Howie; my Dad, especially. And with Howie’s lifestyle, I don’t have any close friends besides Doris. But somehow, Fred, I feel that I can trust you and that you are my friend.”

  With his forefinger half-covering a smile, Fred replied, “Thanks, you’re right; I do want to be your friend. And speaking as an old bachelor, I don’t know what came over me today, but it sure felt good.”

  She grinned, “With sexy blues eyes like yours? I bet the ladies are after you plenty. You must beat ‘em off with a stick.”

  He chuckled. “I’ve got a few girlfriends but nothing serious—and none can hold
a candle to you. Howie did good for himself.”

  Putting his arm around her waist, he walked her to the door. “I’ll call you in a few days or sooner if I hear anything. In the meantime, don’t worry. And call me if there’s anything you need.” He took her hand in both of his and kissed her lightly on the cheek as she left.

  Closing the door behind her, he removed his jacket, loosened his tie and sat at his desk. Picking up the phone, he asked the secretary to hold his calls.

  In the ride from downtown, Shirley wondered what had come over her in Fred’s office. She was a little embarrassed, but something about his touch had excited her. And it felt good to have someone to hold onto and to reassure her. As she drove up the Outer Drive, she smiled, fantasizing about holding and making love to Fred Berman.

  That night he called her at Doris’s and she took the call in the darkened kitchen, while David did some homework in the bedroom.

  “What, you’ve heard from Howie again, already?” she said.

  “No,” he said. “Just calling to make sure you got home okay.”

  Smiling, she made a mental note to get to the beauty shop before their next meeting.

  The next day, Shirley met Molly at the Walnut Room at Marshall Fields for their usual Thursday lunch date; a tradition they’d started ten years before when Shirley began working part-time in the exclusive Personal Shopper department at the store.

  Lifting a forkful of chicken salad and holding it in front of her, Molly cleared her throat, “I stopped on the eighth floor a little early and they said you hadn’t been at work since last week. What’s going on?”

  Shirley took a deep breath. “Howie’s got a new job opportunity in Ft. Lauderdale and it looks like we’ll be moving to Florida. I’m going to go downstairs and give my notice after lunch.”

  “Isn’t this sort of sudden? What about Paschey Cohen? Is this because of him?”

  Looking up, Shirley hesitated, letting out a deep breath. “My husband is going to work in Florida. He has nothing to do with Paschey Cohen.”