"You said your sisters-in-law will watch your son?”
David took a sip of his coffee and nodded his head. He coughed, trying to dislodge the frog he could feel in his throat. "It'll at least be a stable upbringing. That's more than I can give him."
"Can you leave tomorrow?”
"I don't have much more than this. I could leave today.”
"Are you sure?" Alexander asked, looking him over with a cautious eye.
"I know what you're thinking. Trust me, the sooner, the easier." David was putting on a strong face. He didn't want to say what he was actually thinking. Any delay in his exit could seriously shake his resolve to leave the city.
David stood up, "I'll be right back." He took a look around the diner, trying to locate a telephone. Not seeing one in any particular corner of the narrow room, he moved towards the bar.
"Can I help you, sir?" Another waitress asked. She smiled at him as she tucked her pencil behind her ear.
"Can I use a telephone?”
She looked him up and down quickly, thinking for a moment before nodding in the direction of the double doors leading to the kitchen. "It's in the back. Through the doors and you'll see it on your left.”
As David walked through the double doors, he was suddenly swallowed in the sounds and smells of a greasy diner. Somewhere, he could hear men calling out in an Eastern European language, is sounded vaguely Polish.
"Operator, can I have Greenpoint 6378?”
"Conlon residence." The voice on the other end of the line belonged to Katherine.
"Katherine, it's David. Can you put Anna on the phone?”
“Just a moment." Her tone was clipped and icy as she set the ear piece on the mantle.
"David," Anna answered the phone after a moment of icy silence. "If you could make this quick. I have Thomas' dinner on the stove…"
"I'm going to be joining up on the crew of a yacht. I'm going to be leaving the city tomorrow for Havana.”
"What about Thomas?" Anna asked, taken aback.
"What about Thomas?" David snapped. "I thought I explained that this is what is best for him.”
"Are you going to come back and see him before you leave?" Anna asked. Her voice momentarily lost the harsh and icy undertone usually present when she spoke to him. "He's been asking for you.”
"It's probably easier for everyone if I don't," David replied, swallowing the pang of regret bubbling in his stomach.
"Maybe for you, but not for that baby.”
"He's two," Thomas replied. "He'll forget about me in a few weeks."
“Is that really what you want?”
"I'll send you the money as I get it," David said, picking at his thumbnail. The pesky hangnail was throbbing. He drew this thumb into his mouth, sucking at the blood building under the nail.
"I promise. He won't put you out.”
"Christ David, he's our nephew. I just-“
"You just-what?" David asked, trying to fight off the hostile tone in his voice. He ran a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes against the mental image of Anna in his head, a hand on her hip, her narrow eyes boring into him, judging him.
"I worry about him," Anna replied, a hint of emotion rang through her usually cold voice. She let out a soft sigh. She sounded tired as she continued. "Despite everything you seem to think, the boy needs his father.”
Clicking the earpiece back into the receiver, David paused for a moment and stared out the backdoor, which looked onto a dank alley. Heaps of trash from the restaurant were waiting for the street cleaner. Puddles of stagnant water pooled on the pavement, hidden from the sun which rarely got between the two buildings.
David closed his eyes, and pushed out a centering breath as he turned back towards the dining room. Stepping back out, he felt a sense of relief invading his shoulders. It was a foreign feeling, unnatural when compared to the tension weighing him down.
Alexander looked up at him as he walked back into the dining room. His eyes were wide and expectant behind his glasses as he waited for the answer he could see in David's eyes. A coy smile spread across his lips. “Well?"
Crossing back to the booth, David grabbed his last piece of toast from the chipped china. Taking a quick bite, he reached for his hat sitting on the bench. "Are you ready to go?”
"I can," Alexander replied. "Are you feeling alright?”
"I'm scared to death."
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Do you need any help?" Alexander asked, glancing towards the building in front of them. He tucked his hands into his pockets and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. An easy, comforting smile spread across his face. When David didn't answer, Alexander continued. "Four hands are better than two, you know.”
They were standing outside of David's old apartment building. David paused, looking up and down the street. The block seemed surprisingly quiet for a Wednesday, the sun was positioned almost directly overhead, sending stifling heat reflecting off the pavement at them. David glanced back up towards the familiar fifth floor window as his stomach lurched up into his throat.
"Are you looking for someone?" Alexander asked, trying to fill the awkward silence. He struck a match and lit his cigarette before taking a deep drag, inhaling all the smoke into his lungs.
David let out an audible sigh, "I'm not sure.”
Alexander followed David’s dazed glance up and down the street, before turning back to face him. He placed a gentle hand in the crook of David's elbow. His voice was gentle as he continued, "I understand. I'll keep myself busy in that bookstore across the street. Come get me if you need anything.”
"Thank you," David said, a small smile crossing his lips as he glanced back to Alexander. He felt a weight in his chest as he mind tripped over what he needed to do. He forced out a centering breath, "I'll try to make this quick.”
"No hurry." Alexander said. He turned his back and stepped out into the street. After two strides, he stopped, waiting as an automobile chugged passed him. Alexander looked over his shoulder, flashing a quick smile. He held David's eyes, making sure he was being heard as he continued. "Do what you need to do. You need to make sure you're at peace with everything.”
David turned around and put his hand on the doorknob to enter the building. Aside from the tension coursing through his muscles, the moment didn't feel any different from the hundreds of times he had done this in the past. He stepped inside, the warm musty air of the building hit him like a wave. Crossing onto the worn, jungle green carpeting, it was a sense of rote muscle memory which carried him up the ten flights of stairs leading to the apartment.
Reaching fifth floor landing, David put the key in the lock. With a quick jiggle of the sticky knob, he pushed the door open into the living room and smoothly stepped inside.
David coughed against the rush of dusty, stagnating air. He moved across the room and pushed open the one tiny window in the main room in the hope of getting some air circulating.
David ran a tired hand through his hair as he forced out a sigh.
By the look of it, Anna had already cleaned out Thomas' things. Most of Jessica's belongings still littered the main room, exactly where she had left them the previous week.
"Shit." David said, he slowly sunk to his knees in the middle of the room as his body suddenly felt overwhelmed with exhaustion. He leaned back against the couch, looking up at the dirty beams above his head. He wiped his eyes and forced out a centering breath.
Every corner of the room seemed to be jammed with memories. One of Jessica's handbags was sitting on the kitchen table. Two pairs of her boots still sat by the door. One of her jackets, the black and white one she loved to wear, was draped over the sofa. It seemed like everywhere he looked, there was something pulling him back in time.
He couldn't carry much where he was going, and it was probably a good thing there wasn’t much he needed to take. As he looked around the room, his legs didn't want to move.
"David! Wait.”
David turned around just in ti
me to see Jessica hurry out of the dry goods store, shutting the front door firmly behind her. She took a quick look over her shoulder as she jogged across the street in his direction, hiking her skirt around her ankles as she moved.
Waiting for her, David took of his cap and wiped a layer of sweat from his forehead.
As Jessica caught up to him, he saw her check over her shoulder once more, making sure no one had followed her. Her heart shaped face was a stark shade of pale; her eyes were wide with adrenaline.
"What's wrong?" David asked, he reached for her arm to support her. "You look like you're about to faint…".
David held onto her trembling forearm securely as she gradually calmed down. Her breathing was deep and calculating to slow her racing nerves. He could see her eyes shoot around the street, contemplating the words racing through her head. Stepping back from him, she pressed her hand to her forehead, exhaling sharply. "Can we take a walk?”
"Of course," David replied. He let his arm slip down her forearm, intertwining his fingers with her’s as they moved down Third Avenue. He knew in a few blocks, the foot traffic would thin out as the neighborhood became more residential, and they would have more privacy. "Is something wrong?”
"I went to the doctor this morning," Jessica said, quietly. She looked behind her at the store and brushed her hands off on her dusty apron. She bit her lip for a moment. Her voice was low, barely a whisper as she spit out the words. "I'm pregnant." He could see the fear in her eyes as she looked up and met his gaze.
David swallowed back the surprise coloring his voice. Even with the carefully timed pause, his voice seemed to shoot up an uncomfortable octave as he continued. "You...you are?" He thought for for a moment, his mind going back to the night four weeks ago. "But we only…".
"The day you got back," Jessica said, cutting him off abruptly. She tucked a runaway strand of hair behind her ear and crossed her arms in front of her. She spoke quickly; her eyes were glued to the sidewalk in front of her, nervous to make eye contact. "It had to be." She bit her thumbnail and looked up at him as she waited for his response.
David looked back at the store for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. The vision of William Conlon, shotgun in hand as he out of the doorway flooded his mind, scattering his thoughts further. David took a half step, turning away from the door. He knew he needed to find some comforting words to ease the panic coursing through her system.
"Do me a favor and say something David." Jessica spoke again, struggling to keep her voice even. The first touches of panic were beginning to show in her eyes. She glanced over her shoulder nervously. She draped one hand over her stomach. Her voice cracked under the strain of her fraying nerves. "Please, just say something.”
Jessica returned his gaze with intense brown eyes as she continued. "The doctor said it won't be long before I'm starting to show, and honestly, I have no idea what to do. My father will disown me if he finds out." Her tone was slow and measured. This wasn't the first time she'd thought through these words. The pause stretched to an uncomfortable length as she waited for him to say something.
David leaned in and kissed her gently on the forehead. "I'll figure something out." These were the first words that came to mind, he hoped it would buy even a little time. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her to his body. He didn't want her to see how much his hands were shaking. "I promise." He took a step back, turning towards his wagon.
"But," Jessica paused, reaching out to stop him. Looking back at her, for just a second, he was reminded that she was barely twenty-one. She had suddenly become a scared young girl. There was a lilt of uncertainty in her voice as she continued."Are you sure you have to leave? Can't you stay with me?”
He stopped, turning back to face her. He could feel the weight of anxiety creeping into his chest. Jessica's eyes were direct, pleading for him to stay. "Please David." There was a hint of firmness in her voice, briefly taking him aback.
"Jessica..." David said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. He paused a moment more. His stomach was churning with the sudden surge of adrenaline. "Things will be fine," David said, trying to get a hold on his breathing. He forced a gentle smile across his face. "I promise, I'll get us through this.”
“You’re sure?” Jessica asked. Her eyes were locked on a spot across the street; she chewed on her thumbnail. She stopped and looked up at him, seemingly to punctuate her point.
"I'm positive." David replied. It was really the only thing he could say. He swallowed back the wave of nervous nausea he could feel building up in his stomach.
“How?"
"I love you, baby." David said, pulling her body back into his, and wrapping his arms around her waist.
Jessica held tightly to the embrace, hiding herself in his chest and burying her head in the folds of his lapel. David closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her pressed into his arms. In the time he had known her, she never had needed protecting the way she seemed to right now.
After a moment of silence, she pulled back, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. As she looked up at him, the vulnerability in her eyes was disconcerting. "I need you right now, David.”
"I know you do," David replied, resting his hand on her shoulder. He stopped for a moment, collecting his thoughts, "I'm not going anywhere. I promise.”
Opening his eyes, David pushed himself to his feet. The floor boards creaked underneath him as he walked over the rickety bookshelf in the corner. Most of the books were Jessica's. A thin layer of dust covered most of the shelves, it had been a long time since Jessica had the time or the energy to even look at what was up there. He grabbed a hatbox sitting on the top shelf.
David sat crosslegged in the middle of the floor and put the hatbox in the crook between his legs. He took a deep breath and pulled off the lid to the hatbox, dumping the contents into his lap.
David went piece by piece through the papers between his legs. The collection was probably twenty-five or thirty different photos, as well as a bunch of smudged, yellowing letters. This was his personal collection of the mementos which he had hidden away over the last few years. Paging through the stack of memories, he couldn't remember the last time he had looked at everything.
He pulled out a dingy scrap of paper which was near the bottom of the box. It was a letter folded into fourths, the yellowing paper was splattered with dirt. He gently unfolded the crinkled paper.
Dearest David,
You have no idea how much I hope this letter finds you well. I understand why things have been quiet on your end, but I won't lie that it makes it easier for me when I'm receiving letters from you. I don't have to check the papers quite as often. (Just a joke...you know I'm still always checking the papers...). I'll keep writing on a daily basis, you know that it takes a long time before I run out of things to say, and I'm sure you appreciate getting them.
Very little has changed since the last letter. Ma and Pa send their best, I included a scarf mother knitted for you. Without you here taking so much of my time, I've thrown myself into the movement. I believe we'll achieve suffrage before too long at the rate we're going.
Know that I love you with all of my heart, darling, and I count the minutes until I can finally have you home again. I understand everything, and I know why you're doing this. I will admit, I'm selfish and want you home with me so we can properly move on with everything we want to do.
I'll end this letter, as I'm sure you have more pressing matters.
I love you darling,
Jessica
David folded the letter gently, and tucked it back into the bottom of the box. Jessica had sent him daily letters while he was overseas. Thinking back on it, the only time the sweet, and usually clever notes slowed down was while he was unconscious in the hospital, with no way to get word home.
The next thing he picked up was a small snapshot of Jessica. She was probably seventeen in the picture, it was one that she had sent to him when he was over in the trenches. He took the picture and sl
id it into his billfold.
A pink dusk hung low over the island as David shuffled down Second Avenue in the direction of the Conlon brownstone.
"Jessica, I've been thinking..." He mumbled quietly to himself as he walked, working through the memorized script in his head. "I know that we’ve..."
He stopped walking as his mind came up empty. "Fuck!" He dropped his hands into his jacket pocket. His mother's ring weighed down his coat, bouncing noticeably as he walked on the crooked cobblestones.
The last three days had passed with lightening speed since Jessica had told him about the baby. He knew he needed to move quickly, for everyone's sake.
The Conlon family lived in a high end brownstone just off Houston Street on the Lower East Side. The family's dry good store brought in good money, allowing them to live in a fairly high-end neighborhood.
Drowning in the East River Page 9
