They found Jonathan slowly walking toward an older man, sitting on the ground, rocking a limp form and crying. An inch of snow had accumulated on large boxes and wooden pallets that had been strapped together to form a shelter, and a small fire burned in an iron pot. When he stepped closer, he was horrified to see that the woman the man mournfully embraced was dead. Her eyes were still open and they stared through Jonathan. He took a step back, shaken, and put his hands on his head. The man started speaking in a foreign language and reached out to Jonathan with a dirty, ragged hand, tears running down his wrinkled face. Jonathan had no idea what else to do as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few dollars. He handed them to the man and simply turned and walked away. Caleb and Aryl solemnly followed. Around the corner, Jonathan leaned against the wall, needing deep breaths. When the wave of nausea passed, he turned and began walking toward Victor’s office.
“Let’s get this over with.”
∞∞∞
Faint noises coming from the guest room pulled Ava from her trance-like state. She walked out to the hall to see the guest bedroom door open. Arianna was sitting in a chair, facing the window, staring at nothing.
“Arianna?” Ava whispered. She walked to the side of her chair and placed a hand on her friend’s head, stroking her hair. “I was getting worried,” she said. “I’ve never seen you sleep so long. The guys are out signing papers right now. I guess we’re going to live real close to each other still.” Arianna just gave her a scarce nod.
Ava came around the chair, knelt in front of her friend, and took Arianna’s hands in hers. “Arianna, you need to be strong. Caleb needs you to be brave.”
“Caleb.” She gave a short, ugly laugh. “I’m the last thing he needs.”
“That’s not true. He loves you so much, how can you not see that?”
“I know he loves me,” she whispered. “He’s proven that time and again. I said he didn’t need me. Did I ever tell you about the last trip we took to Paris?”
“No.”
“That look Caleb gave me at the train station. He gave the same look to me several times during that trip. I was really a mess most of the time. Absinthe,” she offered. “It was all Caleb could do to just put up with my antics and keep me out of trouble.” She shook her head slowly, and Ava thought she read regret on her face. “We were at a party, and things got a little out of hand. I wasn’t in my right mind. Caleb stepped out to call for the car to take me back to the hotel, and while he was gone, someone dared me to kiss his wife.” She laughed aloud at the memory. Ava waited with a curious expression. “So, I did.” Arianna shrugged, her eyes cast down. “I gave them quite the show, actually. Caleb walked in, and I don’t know who he wanted to pummel more . . . me or the man who dared me to do it. But he had that same look. Like I’d just stabbed him in the heart.” She looked down and picked at the fibers of her cashmere sweater. “I hate that look,” she whispered. “He forgave me for that, and for what I did the next night. And the night after that . . . .” She trailed off and leaned her head back on the chair. “I just don’t think I’m strong enough to do this.”
“Yes, you are. You just don’t realize it right now. Claire and I will help you.”
Arianna sighed with resignation. “I’m going to drive him away. It’s only a matter of time,” she said and smiled halfheartedly. “I wish I could be more like you. I’m just self-absorbed and weak.”
“You are not weak, Arianna. And you’re not quite as selfish as you’d like to think. You talk like it’s impossible to change but it’s not.” She pushed the hair out of Arianna’s face. “Now, come on. Brush yourself off and pick yourself up. Claire will be over soon to make lists of what we need to pack. We’ll all just take it one day at a time, all right?” Arianna nodded slightly and stood in bare feet, following Ava downstairs to wait for Claire.
∞∞∞
Caleb entered Victor’s office building first, and a quick look around the room showed no sign of Victor. He asked for the paperwork, and they set to writing as fast as they could. They handed the papers to the receptionist.
“And none of you have children?”
“No,” Caleb replied impatiently. “You already asked me that.”
“Just making sure,” she said. “Children are extra, you know.” She handed keys to Caleb and Aryl and just as she reached for Jonathan’s, the bell on the door chimed. All three men visibly tensed when they heard the voice from behind.
“Well, who do we have here?”
Jonathan slowly turned to face Victor, and his friends watched warily.
“Well, I just can’t believe my eyes,” Victor said and smiled wide. “Are you renting from me, Jonathan?” He eyed the keys the receptionist held out midair and sat down in one of the waiting room chairs. He crossed his arms and tilted his head, anticipating entertainment by Jonathan’s answer.
“Only for the lack of anything else in town,” Jonathan said through his teeth. Victor put his hand over his heart and made a pouting face.
“Why, Jonathan, I’m hurt. And after all we’ve been through.” He grinned wider. “Lost it all, eh? The whole . . . damn . . . mess?” There was outright glee in his voice as he connected the dots. “How’s Ava?” he asked, dropping his voice and his smile. His black eyes were narrow and locked on Jonathan. Jonathan audibly ground his teeth. Caleb grabbed his arm, but Jonathan shook him off.
“I’m fine,” he snapped. He held his voice steady to Victor, “If you don’t mind, we have a lot to do today.”
“Oh, far be it for me to hold you up. Maybe I’ll stop by sometime. See how you’re settling in. Bring you a housewarming gift.” His mocking smile returned. “A plant, perhaps?”
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jonathan insisted.
“Well, it is my property,” Victor said slyly. “I have a legal right to show up, check on my investment.” He smiled with one last stab. “So, is Ava taking to poverty well? And just think, she thought she was marrying the prince, but she ended up with the pauper!” He laughed loudly. “Of course, I’m married now, you remember Ruth.” He glared at Jonathan. “But I could make an arrangement of sorts. I’d be willing to take her off your hands. It’s not like you can take care of her properly anymore. I could always use a maid.”
Caleb and Aryl had hold of Jonathan the second his muscles twitched to lunge at Victor, who didn’t even flinch.
“You stay away from her,” Jonathan growled.
Victor smiled, walking toward him slowly. “You can’t exactly hire armed guards to stand outside her house anymore the way you did after you stole her from me, now, can you, Jonathan?” he whispered.
“No. But I can beat you to a pulp like they did every time you came near her. Remember that, Victor?”
Victor unconsciously touched a scar at his hairline above the temple and then smoothed down his white blonde hair above it. Jonathan was visibly shaking with rage.
The receptionist had been watching the whole scene with baited breath and spoke timidly. “Mr. Drayton, will you still be renting to these gentlemen? Or should I tear up the paperwork?”
Victor thought for a moment and flashed another evil smile. “Oh, yes, I’ll rent to them. What an interesting twist of fate. Very entertaining.” Victor took the keys from his receptionist, held them out to Jonathan, but just as he reached for them, Victor dropped them to the floor. “Oops,” he sneered. Jonathan looked at the keys on the floor and back up at Victor with burning hatred. Aryl was quick to snatch them up off the floor and hand them to Jonathan.
“Thanks, Aryl,” Jonathan breathed, never breaking eye contact with Victor.
They were careful not to let go of Jonathan until they were several paces from the office.
He was walking at a furious pace and turned abruptly into an alleyway. He started cursing at the top of his lungs and hurled a metal garbage can through the air. He grabbed a two-by-four from the ground, chased the rolling can and proceeded to destroy it. Caleb and Aryl waited pa
tiently by the opening of the alley for him to dispel his rage. Aryl listened intently to the long stream of obscenities flowing from Jonathan’s mouth and made occasional comments.
“Oh, boy, that’s colorful . . . What did he just call your mother? . . . Now that would make a sailor blush . . . I don’t believe I’ve ever heard that particular combination used before,” he said, thoroughly entertained. Caleb glanced at him.
“You’re enjoying this too much.” Aryl shrugged and then turned his attention to Caleb.
“I got us on down at the docks. We start Monday.”
“That’s good, Aryl. What does it pay?”
“Shit.”
“I figured. What’s the job?”
“Manually unloading pallets as they come off the ship, to start anyway,” Aryl replied. Caleb ducked as a splinter of wood flew past them and then looked toward Jonathan. He had flattened the metal can and had turned his attention to another.
Two more whacks and what was left of the two-by-four broke in half; Jonathan catapulted the remaining half as far down the alley as he could. He paced the width of the alley out of breath with his hands on his head. After a moment, Aryl thought it was safe enough to move in closer. Caleb stayed a few feet behind him.
“That was one hell of a show, Jon,” he said cautiously moving toward him. Jonathan stopped and looked up at the sky. Caleb sidled up to Aryl and hesitantly spoke up.
“Look, everything is gonna work out. It’s gonna be okay,” Caleb offered.
“You’re such a damn girl scout, Caleb,” Jonathan scowled.
“Excuse me?” Caleb asked as Aryl let out a snicker. Jonathan leveled his head and glared at Caleb.
“It’s not all going to be okay, Caleb. It’s not all going to work out! This isn’t some damn bookkeeping mistake that will be fixed in a day or two. This is real. It’s all gone. Everything is gone, and frankly, I don’t see how we’re ever gonna get it back again.”
Caleb sighed. “Jon, I’m just trying to help. I know this is real, and I know it’s bad, believe me, I’m not trying to make light, I just− Say, would it make you feel better to hit me?”
“What?” Caleb moved to stand in front of him and patted his cheek.
“C’mon. Right here. Sock me a good one. It’ll make you feel better.”
“I’m not going to hit you, Caleb.”
“No, trust me, I won’t feel a thing. I can’t imagine you’ve got much left anyway,” Caleb said and grinned.
Jonathan looked at him as if he had lost his mind and walked around him to lean against the brick wall. “I'm not going to hit you.” He took a deep breath. “I might hit Aryl, though.” Aryl’s head jerked up.
“What? What’d I do?”
“You haven’t even looked anxious throughout all this. How is that even possible?” Jonathan asked.
Aryl shrugged. “Well, I'm upset, but I guess I just look at things differently.”
“How can you look at this in any way other than a complete disaster?” Caleb asked. Aryl thought about it for a moment before he began.
“You know, if it weren’t for Claire, I wouldn’t even be here right now. This fast-paced, cutthroat, business world was never my dream. I only came here and joined you so that her family would approve of the marriage. You remember as kids, I was always the one running off for days at a time. I hated staying still. I was always looking for adventure. When I met Claire, she was vacationing at her family’s summer home on the outskirts of town. That’s the only summer I stayed close to home. I worked for my uncle part-time. We found this cove on the beach, and we’d spend hours there, exploring the caves and tide pools.
“One time, we took off on bicycles and came across a small farm where a bunch of field hands were working. So, we stopped and joined them. They had interesting stories. When the owners found us there, they couldn’t believe that we had stopped just for fun, so they invited us to stay for dinner. We had a great time getting to know that old couple and kept in touch with them until they died a few years later.
“And we went to our favorite lake at least once a week. She’d make a picnic basket, and we’d lay on the floating dock for hours as I read to her. That’s where I proposed, you know. I found this poem and changed the words at the end to ask her to marry me. We used to go for walks up and down the coast, too. Once we lost track of time and a fierce storm came up out of nowhere. There wasn’t time to get home, so we spent the night in an abandoned lighthouse. We found candles and wool blankets tucked in the closet and watched the storm from the lantern room. That’s the first time we, well, you know,” he said, pausing and smiling as sensual memories flashed through his mind. “The very best memories of my life happened when I was broke, had nothing, was nobody. We came to the city and all that changed. We don’t talk much at all anymore, or run off for the day together exploring, or spend time together doing nothing all day. The only candles we light are for formal dinner parties, and the only thing I’ve read to her in a few years is my weekly schedule. I guess I’m hoping we can get back to those things. The stuff that’s important. I’m looking forward to that.”
“What about Claire? She’s pretty upset over all this. Is she going to see things the same way?” Caleb asked doubtfully.
“I’m going to do my best to help her adjust. I think she’ll come around. Eventually.”
There was a long silence with Caleb and Jonathan at a loss for words.
“That’s a really great way to look at things, Aryl,” Caleb finally said.
Jonathan took a deep breath and pushed himself off the brick wall. “I may need some pointers from you, Aryl. I’ve never done anything for Ava that didn’t involve money, staff, and planning. But what you described sounds really nice.”
“Why don’t we go look at these dumps, so we know what we're dealing with,” Caleb said, leading the group out of the alley.
Jonathan was lost in his own thoughts as they made their way through town. He desperately wanted to have Caleb’s good attitude and Aryl’s romantic ideology, but he shut down his plans for starting a family. He felt a new wave of sadness when he remembered that Christmas was coming. He ticked off the list of what he no longer had: no money, no Christmas, no family, no hope, and no dignity. If it weren’t for Ava, he just might have been one of the many that week who had wandered to the top of a building, unable to face their cruel, new reality.
It was a long walk to the tenement, and it got progressively more depressing as they neared the place they would soon call home. They passed scores of destitute folks, who had been down on their luck long before this nightmarish week. People and garbage lay strewn about the sidewalks and alleys. At least once on each block, broken furniture and trash lay piled up on the sidewalk. A skinny, black cat darted out from an alley in front of them with a large, dead rat in its mouth. Hobos and drunks were the least of their worries. Steering clear of the gangsters who controlled this neighborhood, however, was a real concern. A few streetwalkers approached them enthusiastically. They were still dressed like the successful men they had been, and it was assumed they were here for something cheap and easy. A worn-out looking brunette tried to get Caleb’s attention.
“Wow. Nothing like Paris, eh, Jon?” Caleb scoffed.
“No, it’s not,” he replied in disgust as he shook off a skinny blonde, who had grabbed his arm and cooed at him. A half-block away, another set of women saw them and approached eagerly.
“Lookin’ for a date?” a chubby redhead offered with her skirt already hiked up. Aryl looked straight ahead and kept walking. Down each alley, they saw lines of dingy laundry drying on cables strung between buildings. Neglected dumpsters overflowed with garbage. Through an open window they heard a couple screaming at each other while a baby wailed in the background. Jonathan felt as if he had just walked into the bowels of hell.
“Here it is,” Caleb said, stopping in front of a brick building. They looked hesitant and scared as they walked up three flights of stairs to Jonathan’s apartment. He
took a deep breath and opened the unlocked door.
The three of them stood speechless. A main room measured about fifteen by twenty feet. A tattered couch set against the wall. Beside it, an end table that looked like it was about to fall over. An upside-down dining table set in a corner. There was a fireplace on the left wall and a door beside it. Jonathan walked in slowly and saw that the door led to the bedroom. His clothes closet was bigger than this room. There was a double bed with a lumpy mattress and rusted wrought iron headboard. Directly across from the front door was an archway that led to a small kitchen which held a gas stove, a sink, and counter with two cabinets. To the right of the stove was a garbage chute with a broken door which allowed the stench from the overfilled dumpster below to waft into the apartment. The dirty plaster walls were riddled with holes, and the stained wood floors needed repair. There was one window in the main room and a small one in the kitchen. Both were cracked. Jonathan turned, speechless, to his equally horrified friends.
“Dear God, how can I bring Claire here?” Aryl asked aloud.
So much for the romanticism of poverty, Jonathan thought sarcastically. They walked down the dank hallway and opened the door to Caleb’s rental. It was in much the same shape. He walked through quickly. Aryl took more time walking around his. As creative and talented as Claire was, he just couldn’t see her being able to turn this pit into a home.
Caleb turned abruptly and stomped down the stairs. He sat down on the stoop with his head in his hands. Jonathan and Aryl walked around him, stood on the sidewalk with nothing to say and simply waited.
“We need some plaster to fix those holes,” Caleb started, “and at least some tape for the windows with winter coming. I’ll bring some tools and nails for other repairs, furniture, doors and such. Rugs will cover the damaged floors. And if you think we can get away with it, we can smuggle in some things from the house tonight after dark.”
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