The Girl Next Door

by MacDonald, Patricia

  Duncan’s face colored at the mention of Nina’s great-aunt, Marsha’s mother’s sister. “She was a good woman,” he said.

  “She still is,” said Nina. “Here’s the bus.”

  Nina led the way out the door and up the steps into the idling bus, which smelled of exhaust fumes, fried food, and disinfectant. She walked halfway back, and then indicated that her father should take the seat by the window. Duncan sat down obediently, clutching his bag on his lap. He leaned his forehead against the window and stared out into the darkness of the Port Authority garage. Nina took out her fat Sunday New York Times, flipped on the overhead light, and began to read. Once the other passengers were seated, the bus driver closed the doors and, with a rumble, the bus pulled out and began its descent toward the Lincoln Tunnel.

  Nina read her paper for half an hour, until the bus reached the outskirts of Hoffman. Then she folded it up and looked out the window. The many deciduous trees that lined the streets of the New Jersey suburb were ablaze, and Duncan gave a little gasp of pleasure at the sight of them.

  “Does it look different to you?” Nina asked him.

  Duncan shook his head. “It looks like I never left.” The bus turned slowly onto Lafayette, the main street downtown, stopping at several corners.

  “This looks different,” he said. “All these shops are new.”

  Nina nodded. “Hoffman’s become very upscale. I mean, it always was a nice town, but now …”

  “Look at that. Banana Republic. Tommy Hilfiger. The Gap. What happened to the old hardware store?”

  “Everybody goes to Lowe’s or Home Depot now, Dad,” Nina said.

  “What’s Home Depot?”

  Nina smiled and shook her head.

  “And that was the old pharmacy. Now it’s an antiques shop.”

  “Oh right,” said Nina, as the bus stopped and opened its doors. “All European antiques. Very pricey. You know who owns that shop? Lindsay Farrell. Do you remember her? She used to go out with Patrick?”

  “Oh yeah,” Duncan said, peering out. “Pretty girl. Her family had money.”

  “Yeah.” Nina started to say more, but she stopped herself. She didn’t want to hurt him. Gemma had confided in her long ago that Lindsay broke up with Patrick after Duncan was arrested. Lindsay’s parents were horrified by the scandal. They sent her off to private school in Switzerland, where she ended up staying, getting married and then divorced. Last year she had returned to Hoffman and opened up the high-end shop on Lafayette. Nina had stopped in there once, before she realized it belonged to Lindsay. After that she avoided the place. “It’s a nice store,” Nina said vaguely.

  But Duncan had lost interest in the antiques store. Nina knew why. On the next block was the building where his office used to be. She hated to think of how he would react when he saw it. The office had been taken over by a pair of architects who had completely redone the façade of the building. It bore no resemblance to the office where he had practiced for so long. It was as if he had never been there. He might not even recognize it.

  “Is that my …?” Duncan stopped, bewildered.

  “They’ve changed it,” Nina said gently, apologetically.

  Duncan nodded, but he suddenly looked weary and … diminished. They rode in silence for a few blocks. “Nina, where are we getting off ?” Duncan asked worriedly. “Isn’t Harris Realtors on this block?”

  “Not anymore, Dad,” Nina murmured. “We’re going to the end of Lafayette and around past the park,” she said.

  “Why are we going there?” he asked. He sounded almost frightened, like a child.

  Nina frowned and glanced past him. “Trust me,” she said. “I’ve got a plan.”

  A FEW minutes later, the bus stopped outside the Milbank Manor Nursing Home. “This is us,” said Nina, getting up. “Come on.”

  Duncan followed her down the steps, but he frowned and halted as Nina started up the walk to the nursing home. “What are we doing here? Isn’t this where your great-aunt is?”

  “Yes.”

  Duncan shook his head and refused to proceed.

  “Dad, come on. Look. We can’t realistically expect to find a place right off the bat. And the only hotel is out by the highway. We don’t even have a car. Aunt Mary is stuck here in the nursing home for the time being having physical therapy after her hip replacement. I’m going to ask her if we can use her house and car until we get you situated.”

  “You can’t, Nina,” he cried. “For God’s sake. She was your mother’s aunt. She probably hates me.”

  “She doesn’t hate you, Dad. Come on. You don’t have to go and see her. You can wait in the lobby. I just need to talk to her.”

  Duncan looked around helplessly, as if he no longer knew how to manage his life in this most familiar of places. Nina watched him anxiously. The physical changes in him had happened gradually in prison, so that she had hardly noticed them, but now, in this place where they had once been a family, she saw them starkly. Instead of the confident, robust man she remembered, he was pale and thin, his hair gray, his eyes electric with alarm.

  “Dad, you have to trust me,” she said. “I’m trying to do the best thing. It will be all right.”

  Duncan sighed, and followed her up the walk to the building. When they got inside, Nina indicated a little grouping of damask-covered easy chairs in the reception area. “Wait there,” she ordered. “I’ll be back in no time.” Duncan sat down heavily.

  Nina signed the guest book, pushed open the double doors, and went down the hallway, edging past trolleys of gauze packages and medications, apologizing to those she passed who were shuffling down the hallway with the aid of walkers. Holding her breath against the smell of decay that seemed to pervade the air, she tapped on the door to her great-aunt’s room and heard a feeble voice bid her to come in.

  Her great-aunt was propped up in bed by a bunch of pillows and she was staring disinterestedly at the television, which was tuned to an all-news network. Her face lit up at the sight of Nina and she turned off the television.

  Nina came over and embraced Mary’s frail shoulders, and kissed her on the cheek.

  “How are you, darling?” Aunt Mary asked.

  “I’m okay,” said Nina. She set down her bag and sat in the chair beside her aunt’s bed. “How are you?”

  “I’m improving,” she said. “It’s going to take a while.”

  “You look good, though,” Nina said with a smile.

  “You’re the one who looks good,” Aunt Mary said. “I love that emerald green sweater on you.”

  “You should. You gave it to me,” Nina teased her, glancing down at her birthday present, a merino wool V-necked sweater that was a perfect fit. Aunt Mary’s presents, like her advice, always reflected how clearly her aunt saw her, and recognized her individuality. It had been an abrupt shock, fifteen years ago, to have to move into the house of a widowed great-aunt whom she hardly knew. But there was no choice. Nina’s own family had been ripped apart. Aunt Mary had seemed old to her then, at age sixty. She had gamely offered to take Jimmy in, too, but everyone agreed that Jimmy was too much for an old woman to handle. At Duncan’s insistence, Jimmy went to live with George and Rose Connelly. Although they were not friends, George felt a debt of gratitude to Duncan for saving the life of his son, Anthony. George repaid the debt by helping Jimmy to straighten out his life. As for Nina, after a terrible period of adjustment, she had settled into a quiet life with her great-aunt. Aunt Mary had been a teacher, and she liked children, though she’d never had any of her own. She was kind, and fair with Nina, and Nina often thought that it was Aunt Mary’s kindness that prevented her own life from descending into a tailspin.

  Most important to Nina, despite Aunt Mary’s obvious love for Nina’s mother, and regardless of whatever her secret opinion might have been, Mary had never spoken ill of Duncan or tried to prevent Nina from seeing her father after he went to prison.

  “So,” said Mary, “you don’t want to hear about my infi
rmities. Tell me how you’re doing.”

  “I have a favor to ask,” said Nina bluntly.

  “Shoot,” said her aunt.

  Nina hesitated. “I told you on the phone about my dad. Getting paroled.”

  Mary nodded, and gazed at her great-niece.

  “Well, I didn’t tell you this. The co-op board in my building wouldn’t allow him to stay there. And then I found out … from him … that he wanted to move back here. To Hoffman.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” said Mary sternly. “A lot of people here still have very bad feelings about him.”

  Nina looked at her directly. “I don’t think it’s a good idea either, to tell you the truth. But it’s what he wants. So he could be near the boys. He was quite determined about it.”

  “I see,” said the old woman.

  “I promised to help him find a place and get settled and all that. That’s what I wanted to ask you about. There’s no one in the house right now, is there?”

  Mary looked at her niece, aghast. “You want him to live in my house?”

  “No. Not live there. No,” said Nina. “We just need a place to stay until we find something for him. It’s expensive around here. It might take a little while.”

  Mary nodded, but did not reply.

  “I know it’s a lot to ask,” said Nina, “but I really need this. And you know, you never seemed to be … against him. You never seemed to blame him for Mom’s … You never seemed to believe that he did it.”

  “I never said that,” Mary cautioned her.

  Nina frowned. “But you didn’t … did you?”

  Mary looked at her sadly. “I respected your feelings, Nina. That seemed like the most important thing to me at the time. As for your father, well …”

  “He didn’t, Aunt Mary. I wouldn’t love him if he had done that …”

  “Oh, honey,” said Mary, shaking her head.

  “I don’t know what else to do,” Nina cried. “I didn’t want him to come back here either, but he’s so intent on it. I know I have no right to ask for anything from you. You’ve done more for me—”

  “Nina,” her great-aunt interrupted her kindly. “Stop that now. I know that you believe in him. And once upon a time, Duncan was a fine young man. For all I know, you’re right about him.”

  “He’s not young anymore. And he really needs a hand.”

  Mary sighed. “If you want to stay in the house and use the car … Well, it’s your house, too, Nina. You know that’s how I look at it.”

  Nina jumped up and embraced her great-aunt. “Thank you.”

  “Hey, take it easy,” Mary said.

  “I’ll get him to fix things around the house while we’re there,” said Nina. “I promise. There won’t be any trouble. And we’ll be gone just as soon as I get him settled in his own place. You won’t be sorry.”

  Mary took a deep breath and smoothed out the bedcovers over her lap. “Do you think he knows how to tune a piano?” she asked wryly.

  Nina beamed. “I’m going to go tell him. He’s waiting outside. He didn’t want to come in. He thought you wouldn’t want to see him.”

  “All right. That’s fine,” said Mary. “But, Nina, I want you to hurry up and get him settled. And then get away from him. You can’t spend your life fighting his battles. You mustn’t.”

  “I won’t. And we’ll be out of there before you know it. I promise.”

  “You have to live your own life, Nina. You need to think about having your own family. What happened to that young man you were seeing? Hank. That shipping executive who came to see you in the play all those times.”

  Nina sighed. “Hank Talbot. I still see him …”

  “Nina,” said Aunt Mary.

  “All he thinks about is how much money he can make. He reminds me of Patrick,” Nina protested.

  “You said he was fun.”

  “He was fun, at first,” said Nina. “Look, don’t worry about me. I’m fine. I couldn’t be better. Aunt Mary, I’ve got to go. My dad …”

  “Go ahead. Go on,” said Aunt Mary.

  Kissing her aunt again, Nina picked up her bag and flew out of the room, eager to tell her father the good news. When she opened the door to the reception area, she saw that there was a bloodless but cheerful-looking old man dressed in frayed, comfortable clothes and house slippers seated across from Duncan.

  “Harry,” said Duncan, “this is my daughter, Nina.”

  The old man peered up at her. “Hello there, Nina,” he croaked. He was virtually toothless. “I know your dad for a long time. He used to take care of me.”

  Nina smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  The doors to the reception area opened again, and a man wearing a bow tie and a blazer entered the lobby. He was peering at a chart through half-glasses.

  “Hey, Doc Farber.”

  The man looked up over the top of his glasses. “Hello, Harry, how’re you doing?”

  “You remember Doc Avery here?” The old man pointed with a trembling hand at Duncan.

  Dr. Farber’s smile disappeared and his eyes widened in surprise as his gaze took in the unexpected visitor.

  “Hi, Bill,” Duncan said.

  “Duncan. I heard they let you out,” he said gravely.

  “The doc here was just givin’ me a little free advice.” said Harry gleefully.

  “This man is not a doctor any longer,” said Dr. Farber. “He disgraced himself and his profession. He has no business giving you or anybody else medical advice. You should be getting back to your room, Harry.”

  Harry protested, but Dr. Farber buttonholed a passing aide and pointed to Harry. “Help this man back to his room.”

  “I don’t need any help,” Harry grumbled as he accepted the orderly’s arm.

  Without another word to Duncan, Dr. Farber turned and walked back into the ward. Nina used all the acting skills she possessed to keep the embarrassment and chagrin from showing on her face as she looked at her father. His face wore a blank expression. Probably, she thought, a skill he had perfected over years of withstanding the insults of prison life. But blotches of color had risen to his cheeks, betraying him, like the telltale welts from a lash.

  4

  THEY trudged through the rustling mass of leaves that blanketed Aunt Mary’s front yard. “Maybe we can rake these up for her,” Nina said. “I told Aunt Mary we’d do a few things around the house.” Duncan nodded, but did not reply. He bent down and gathered up a couple of newspapers, still in their plastic sleeves, which had landed near the steps and were camouflaged by leaves. Nina stuck the key in the front door of the rambling, shingle-style house that she had called home during high school and pushed the door open with some difficulty because of the pile of mail that had fallen through the slot and accumulated on the floor. “Come on in,” she said to her father.

  The house smelled stale and the drapes were shut, so the atmosphere was gloomy. The living room was dominated by a black upright piano, its surface dull and scarred. Aunt Mary had loved to play when Nina lived here. Nina ran her hand across the dusty keys and could see what her aunt meant about the instrument being out of tune. As Duncan entered the house and set his bag down, Nina went around to the windows, pulling back curtains and opening the blinds. Patches of faded butterscotch light began to appear on the worn wall-to-wall carpet.

  “There,” she said, “that’s better. We’ll get this place aired out.”

  “Where do you want these?” asked Duncan, indicating the newspapers he had collected.

  “There’s a recycling can beside the back door. Put them in there.”

  Duncan went into the kitchen and looked around.

  “Just outside. Open the back door,” said Nina.

  Duncan did as she asked, and then returned to the living room.

  “You can have my old room,” said Nina. “It’s the one on the right at the top of the stairs. I’ll take Aunt Mary’s room down here.” Although her old room was smaller than her aunt
’s bedroom and was decorated in girlish pink gingham, it was a little more cheerful than Aunt Mary’s room, which had not seen a change of décor or a coat of paint in many years. Besides, she didn’t know how her aunt would feel about Duncan staying there.

  “Okay,” said Duncan indifferently. He looked around the shabby but comfortable living room. The striped wallpaper was faded, and peeling in spots. But the bright watercolor landscapes that hung in a grouping over the sofa still looked fresh and lovely. Noticing Duncan looking at his late wife’s paintings, Nina felt a little anxious, but her father’s face betrayed no emotion.

  Several times Aunt Mary had urged Nina to take some of her mother’s paintings with her and hang them in her apartment, but Nina’s residences were always temporary. She planned someday to have an actual home, she had told her aunt. A suitable place to hang them.

  Duncan walked over to a display of framed photos on Aunt Mary’s piano and examined them.

  Nina joined him. “Do you remember all these people?” she asked.

  Duncan nodded slowly. “Oh sure. Your mother’s family. I knew most of them. Your grandparents. There’s your uncle John. And of course, these …” Aunt Mary had all the Avery children’s pictures framed and on display. Duncan picked up Nina’s high school graduation photo, which was larger and more prominent than those of her brothers. Nina hadn’t really looked at that photo in a long time. She was struck by the look of sadness in her own eyes.

  “I had the one you brought me in my cell,” he said. “I looked at it every day.” He set the photo back down carefully and then picked up another, smaller graduation picture displayed beside it. It was a black-and-white photo and the girl pictured in the photo had raven hair like Nina’s, but there was no sorrow in her eyes and she had a bright, vivacious smile.

  “She probably looked like that when you met her,” Nina said gently.