by Linda Ellen
The man eyed her up and down, and Louise couldn’t quite place the expression in his gaze. Then with an odd smile, he murmured, “Well, you never can tell.” With that, he had nodded to her and Tommy and ambled on inside the door to the stairs. As she stood there, she could hear his footfalls on the steps.
With another shrug and a shiver from the cool wind, she put her key in the door and let herself in, giving Tommy instructions to get started on his homework while she scrubbed her hands with her special soap and began supper.
An hour later, Vic walked in the door, whistling happily. Louise grinned when she heard him, thinking, I bet I know why he’s in a good mood…same as me all day.
He came into the kitchen, greeted Tommy sitting at the table working on his arithmetic homework, and reached out to rumple the boy’s hair. Then he cuddled up to Louise’s back, slipped his arms around her waist, and planted a loud firm smack on her neck.
“How’s my girl today, hmm?” he murmured, his voice low and rumbling. He proceeded to run the tip of his tongue under her ear, where he knew it drove her crazy. He wasn’t disappointed – she squirmed and giggled. Conscious of the paring knife in her hand, she laid it on the counter and turned as she wiped her hands dry on a towel so that he could enfold her in his arms.
Kissing him soundly, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight, whispering in his ear, “I’ll have you know it’s all your fault.”
He grinned against her hair. “What is?”
“The fact that I nearly rolled myself up in a big cigar today, not paying attention to my work, you rat,” she play-fussed. “All I could think about was…you.”
He snickered, enjoying their game. “Me, huh? Well now, why’s that?”
Glancing over at their son to make sure he was concentrating on his paper, she whispered in answer, “Why do you think?” as she rubbed herself against him in a way that she knew would immediately flip a few switches. She was right, and he instantly gave that low growl as he reached around and play-swatted her behind.
“Mmm, too bad it ain’t bed time yet, huh?” he murmured against her neck.
Teasingly, she pushed back from him and gave him a mock frown. “Exactly. First comes supper and then a few chores.”
“Chores. Bah,” he teased, his eyes twinkling as he reached for her again, but she held him off with one hand and pointed toward the table for him to help Tommy with his homework.
He laughed as he moved to sit down, shooting her a wink as he mumbled, “Spoil sport.”
As she turned back to continue peeling potatoes for supper, she mentioned casually over her shoulder. “Mrs. Despaine evidently sold her other apartment building next door.”
“Oh yeah?” he answered, only half listening as he looked over Tommy’s work.
“Yes. Clarence from upstairs was sitting on the porch when I got home. He was acting kind of strange…” she continued, hearing him snort. She turned her head to glance at him.
“When is he not strange?”
She laughed in agreement, and turned back to her peeling. “True, but I mean extra strange. He acted like…” she paused, trying to put her finger on her impression. “Like Despaine selling the other building would affect us somehow – and he knew how.” Looking up and out of the back window into the yard for a moment, she finally raised her eyebrows and shook off the odd encounter. “Anyway…”
“I don’t see how,” Vic mumbled as he leaned over to show Tommy a wrong answer on his paper. Tommy put the pencil in his mouth to chew on it, a habit he had developed when he was pondering a problem.
Thirty minutes later, as they were eating, their telephone rang. Only having had it installed a month prior, it was still a new experience when it jingled. Almost like a surprise gift. At her grin, Vic chuckled and wiped his mouth on his napkin before rising to go into the living room and answer it.
“Hello?”
Without preliminaries, Mrs. Despaine launched right into the purpose for her call. Even as he was listening, Vic wondered why the woman hadn’t just come down the stairs to talk to them. It wasn’t long before he had his answer.
“I’m sorry to spring this on you, but I find that I need to provide a place to live for a former tenant,” she began.
“Sorry?” Vic asked, not understanding.
“Yes,” she answered briskly. “In the morning, workers will be at your apartment to begin work on making it into two separate spaces. I’ll be taking the kitchen and dining room, and you will begin sharing the bathroom and the back hall with the new tenant.
Shocked, Vic’s eyes opened wide and he turned to gaze down at his wife, who had joined him. “You’re what? But…what about us? We need a kitchen…” he paused, feeling like he was in a nightmare.
“What? Who is it?” Louise whispered as she reached him.
“I realize that,” Despaine continued. “We will make the entry hall into your new kitchen.”
“B..but…that’s Tommy’s bedroom!” Louise sputtered, having heard the woman when Vic shared the receiver with her.
“Yes, well…that’s your problem. After all, you’ve been living there all these years with a child, even though it was against the rules,” the Wicked Witch of the West informed them.
Without too many more words, she hung up, leaving the couple stunned and shell-shocked.
*
Six weeks later, Vic came into the bedroom from the back hall and stubbed his toe on the leg of the dining room table, which was now in the corner of their bedroom. Slamming the door, a few choice words flew from his mouth as he stumbled to the bed, rubbing his foot.
Louise came into the room a moment later through the sliding door. It being Christmas night, it had taken a while to get Tommy to bed in his new space in the corner of the living room, right next to the Christmas tree. Training concerned eyes on Vic, she closed the door with a swoosh.
“What’s the matter?”
Still grumbling, he muttered, “Stubbed my toe. Beastly table’s in the way.” Huffing in disgust he continued, “That old woman. When I came out of the bathroom, she was out there in the hall again. Said we’d better keep that kid quiet. It gives me the creeps the way she looks at me,” he explained, speaking of the new “tenant” that was now occupying the space that had been their kitchen and dining room. She also had exclusive use of the back porch, much to their chagrin. That had left them with the tiny side porch, which was really only a covered entrance barely big enough to get out of the rain – not big enough to store things on or sit on. Plus, to access the backyard now, they needed to go through a side gate.
“It still beats the heck outta me that the person Despaine chopped up our apartment for works in Accounts Payable at my job,” he further grumbled. “Saw her in the office today when I took my paperwork upstairs, and you’d think I killed her cat or somethin’.”
Moving two steps to the vanity, Louise sank down on the padded seat, picked up her brush and ran it through her hair. “I know. She looks at me that way, too. Like she hates me. I’d like to know what the heck we did to make her dislike us – she’s the one who took half our apartment!”
“Yeah – and only two dollars less a month – that little bit ain’t worth the hassle.”
“I agree.” Louise murmured, her eyes narrowing as she remembered their argument with their landlord over that and many other issues. Her sneering response was always, “There are more apartments to be had.” Meeting his eyes in the mirror, she added, “I’m so mad at her, that old witch Despaine, I could spit nails. All these years we’ve paid our rent on time, never caused her any trouble, kept Tommy as quiet as a child can be and still be a child, obeyed all of her odd rules, and still she’s acted like she hated us. And now this! I’m sick of it!”
“Me too, babe,” he mumbled as he climbed into his side of the bed.
Pausing with the hairbrush halfway through, she met his eyes again. Despite her aggravation, she couldn’t help but gaze at him, his hair damp from his bath, his e
yes sleepy, but full of love as they returned her perusal. “But…I hate the thought of moving. This has been the happiest home I’ve ever had,” she admitted softly.
He nodded, pressing his lips together as he laced his hands behind his head and relaxed back against the headboard. “For me, too.”
Drawing in a deep breath, striving to relax, Louise put down the brush, stepped over to the bed and sank down beside her husband.
Smiling at him, she raised one hand and cupped his cheek for a moment as they stared into one another’s eyes.
Finally, Louise leaned to press her lips to his in a sweet kiss, and then tilted her head to press her forehead against her husband’s as she felt his arms encircle her back. With a smile, she added, “I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you about…your surprise Christmas present…”
His brows furrowed as he pulled back to look at her questioningly. “You got me somethin’ else?”
She grinned impishly and leaned to give him another smooch, whispering, “You got your wish. We’re going to have a baby!”
Vic’s smile lit up the bedroom more than the lamp next to the bed or the light of the full moon shining in the window.
All thoughts of the grouchy old woman who had usurped half of their home forgotten, with a whoop, he swept her into his arms for a kiss that showed her everything was once again right with their world.
‡
CHAPTER 25
Trouble in Paradise
Louise pressed a rag moistened with cold water to her forehead, her mouth, and the back of her neck. She couldn’t remember having that much morning sickness when she was pregnant with Tommy. But maybe I did…my whole marriage to TJ felt like morning sickness.
With her eyes shut, she concentrated on breathing in through her nose, hoping the queasiness was coming to an end for the time being. Then a loud knocking on the door startled her, and she jumped, glancing over at it. “Yes?”
“I wish you’d hurry up in there! I gotta get ready for work,” the obnoxious voice of Willa Crenshaw sounded through the thick wood. The impatient tone grated on Louise’s last nerve.
“I’ll be out in a minute!” she rasped angrily. She flushed the commode and struggled to stand to her feet, swaying a bit and holding on to the wall as she broke out in a cold sweat. Moments later she managed to open the door, expecting the woman to see how bad she felt and apologize, but of course, that didn’t happen. Old Maid Crenshaw took one look at Louise’s face and harrumphed derisively, shouldering past her into the room and closing the door with quite a bit of force, all while mumbling about missing her bus and the aggravation of having to share a bathroom with those people.
Tiredly, Louise pressed the cloth to her forehead and entered their apartment through the hall door that led into their bedroom.
She could hear Vic interacting with Tommy in the other room and she knew he was probably gathering breakfast items to get the boy fed before he had to leave for school. Closing her eyes a moment, she slowly breathed in, thankful that the nauseous feeling had subsided for the time being. She dreaded going to work, however, because lately that awful binder smell really did a number on her overly sensitive system.
Glancing around, she gathered her clothes and wearily began to get dressed for the day.
Minutes later, Vic walked into the bedroom, carrying a cup of steaming hot coffee. He took one look at her face and, noticing the lingering pallor, placed the cup down and moved over to take her in his arms.
For Louise, that simple gesture seemed like a cool delicious drink on a hot day. For the first time since she had put her feet on the floor that morning, she actually felt good. Being in Vic’s arms always made her feel better.
He cradled her head against his chest as he gently rocked her back and forth. Smoothing her hair back off her forehead, he kissed her there and murmured, “I hate that the baby’s makin’ you feel sick. If I could go through it for ya, babe, I sure would.”
Louise smiled with a sigh and drew back a bit to look up at him. Reaching up to touch his face with the tips of her fingers, she allowed a small chuckle. “Mama always says if men had to be pregnant, there wouldn’t be any more babies born.”
Blessing her with one of his dimpled grins, he lovingly caressed the tip of her nose with his, teasing, “Ahh, what’s she know?” Drawing her back into his arms again, he ran his hands soothingly over her back and neck. “Maybe you should stay home today…get some rest.”
“Mmm, no, I’ll be fine the rest of the day, except for the occasional bouts of gagging over the binder.”
Knowing how much she hated that “cat pee” stench anyway, he closed his eyes for a moment, wishing there was something he could do to help. Like most men when their wives are suffering pregnancy symptoms, he felt guilty. Then hearing movement out in the hall, he murmured, “I heard voices earlier. Did you have words with that Crenshaw woman?”
Stepping back from the circle of his arms, Louise laid a hand on her forehead, and then smoothed her hair back as she nodded and resumed dressing. “Yeah. She was griping about me being in the bathroom too long and complaining again about having to share.”
Vic visibly bristled, her words causing the protectiveness within him to switch on and begin to smolder. “What’s wrong with that ol’ bat? Can’t she see you’re not feelin’ good ’cause of the baby?”
Louise shrugged as she slipped her arms into a blouse and began to fasten the buttons. “I don’t think she cares about that. Clarence told me the other day that she married a man just before he was shipped out during the first world war, but her husband got killed…she never had any kids.”
“I still can’t figure out why Despaine took part of our place to give to that old biddy. There’s lots of other apartment houses, why didn’t she go someplace else?” He shook his head in bewilderment and sat down to drink his coffee.
Louise met his eyes. “I think it was her way of getting back at me for Tommy. I never knew why she let us stay, or what old man Blankenbaker said to her on the phone that day, but it’s like she’s resented me the whole time I’ve lived here. I think she’s enjoying this.”
Vic bit out a few choice words as he sipped, muttering, “At least somebody is.”
*
The rest of that week, relations with their crotchety neighbor deteriorated from bad to worse. The woman complained about everything – any noise Tommy made, what time the family went to bed, and of course – the shared bathroom. The young family was fit to be tied, and it was even affecting Tommy. He seemed irritable and wouldn’t tell Louise or Vic what was bothering him – although they suspected their neighbor had bawled him out when they were out of earshot.
Then on Friday, as always, Vic took his paperwork up to the office after finishing his route. The general manager’s secretary, a pretty green-eyed redhead by the name of Iris who always teased back and forth with Vic, kind of like a kid-sister, motioned him over and whispered, “Did you do something to make somebody mad at you?”
Vic’s brows furrowed and he shook his head. “Not that I know of. All my customers love me,” he added with a grin. The smile died, however, when he saw how serious she was.
Glancing around, she murmured, “When I got here this morning, I went into Mr. Wayburn’s office. He was holding a note, and he was on the phone. I heard him mention your name. He didn’t look pleased. I think you’re in trouble…”
Cold dread washed over Vic from his head to his knees. Not again. This felt way too familiar. Swallowing nervously, he raked a hand through his hair and glanced around, noticing their crotchety neighbor gleaming at him from her cubicle. When she saw him looking, she ducked back out of sight.
“He told me to tell you he wanted to see you when you came in…” Iris continued.
Vic nodded and unconsciously stood to his full height, straightened his uniform and smoothed his hair back, his mind racing a thousand miles an hour trying to remembering anything he might have done to get called on the carpet. Maybe it’s
about me breaking that bottle of wine last week…but I paid for that…
Clearing his throat, he stepped to Mr. Wayburn’s door and knocked, waiting for the acknowledgement to come in.
“Mr. Wayburn? You wanted to see me, Sir?” he asked politely, holding his uniform cap in his hands as he approached.
Mr. Wayburn looked up at him, a frown on his face, and motioned for him to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk.
Getting right to the point after Vic was settled, he said, “Matthews…it was brought to my attention today that you have a police record, is that correct?” It was a moot point, Vic suspected, figuring the man had called downtown and had him run.
“Yes, sir,” he admitted, striving to not look as if he were guilty of murder. Explaining in halting tones about his time as a bookie sent a wave of shame through his system that he hadn’t felt in years. Although he had made peace with his past, and had asked God and everyone’s forgiveness, having it dredged up again like this made him feel dirty and ashamed.
The man sighed and shook his head. “You’re my top driver, Matthews. Never had a minute’s trouble out of you. All your stops like you, and your numbers are good. But…now that I know about this, I’m liable. The company has a rule against hiring anyone with a record. In your case, someone here in the office must have slipped up and not run it when you hired on. But now…” he made eye contact with Vic, allowing him to see he hated what he was about to do.
For Vic, the floor was once again crumbling under his feet. His stomach bottomed out and he felt like he was in a nightmare and couldn’t wake up. His heart was pounding so hard he could barely breathe. Sweat broke out on his forehead, under his arms and on his back. How can this be happening again? He had thought his future was set, his course clear – that he would work at Maloney-Davidson, rising as high as he could go, until he retired at a ripe old age. But now…
As if through a thick fog, his gut threatening to lose its contents, his heartbeat thumping in his ears, he heard Mr. Wayborn say, “I’m going have to let you go. I’m sorry. I like you, Matthews. You’ve been a top-notch employee. I’ll write you a letter of recommendation, however, and I’ll help in any way I can…”
