∞∞∞
Walking through the door of his apartment, Caleb dropped the supplies on the floor.
“I’m going to start patching the holes in the walls. Why don’t you guys work on unloading and getting another trip done?”
Jonathan nodded with his hands shoved in his pockets and turned to leave.
“I stay here. I help with walls,” Sven said matter-of-factly. No one was going to argue with the Russian giant.
“Great. It’ll be good to have some company, and the work will get done twice as fast.” Caleb tossed him a trowel and started to mix a batch of plaster in the bucket.
∞∞∞
The others soon returned to Jonathan’s house to get another load, this time smuggling the oak floor radio out the back door. Ava had gathered a few small rugs, linens, and some towels. Maura added a box of basic cooking necessities, having rearranged the cupboards behind her. It was impossible to tell that anything was missing. Ava gathered one last crate of their personal items: Jonathan’s straight razor, a bottle of cologne, a bottle of her perfume, a book that contained a few irreplaceable pictures of her parents and her aunt, along with addresses of their friends. She took her silver-framed wedding picture, and a wooden jewelry box that had belonged to her grandmother; other than some clothes, these were the only things they would take with them. She gazed over the few belongings.
How do you take your entire life with you if you have to walk out the door with only what you can carry? How?
∞∞∞
Caleb had screwed hasps into place on the outside of each of their doors. This would make them all feel better about leaving their only worldly possessions alone overnight. Caleb and Sven worked at an amazing pace and had nearly completed the patching in his apartment by the time Jonathan’s second load arrived. It wasn’t the prettiest job in the world, but the white spots did look better than gaping holes. Caleb and Sven began repairing the holes in Aryl’s apartment as the others went to gather Aryl and Claire’s belongings.
“So, Sven. Where do you live?” Caleb asked.
“In an apartment,” was his monotone answer.
“You got a family at home?”
“Wife.”
“How long have you been cooking?”
“Since little boy.” Sven stared straight ahead with a hard face and worked diligently.
“How long have you been working for Jonathan?”
“Five years.” There was a long pause, the sound of trowels scraping the walls echoed in the empty apartment.
“You know, Sven, I don’t know if I can concentrate with your constant yapping over there,” Caleb joked. Sven said nothing, but glanced over at him with an infinitesimal grin.
∞∞∞
Arianna dropped very unladylike into the armchair, holding a drink in one hand as she dug in her handbag for something with the other. Ava and Claire were sitting on the sofa across from her, legs crossed with hands neatly folded in their laps and watching her with raised eyebrows. Arianna lit a cigarette, leaned back into the chair, and crossed her legs in a masculine manner. Claire looked at her in horror.
“Arianna! Proper women don’t sit like that!” she scolded, looking her up and down in reproach. Ava just smiled, wondering if Claire knew the extent of Arianna’s antics on other continents.
“Well, the thing about that, Claire,” she paused to exhale, “is we’re not exactly proper women anymore, now, are we? On the societal scale, we’re no more proper than back-shanty, hired help. No offense, Maura,” she said genuinely.
Maura raised her glass. “None taken,” she assured and sipped her drink as Arianna continued.
“My mother used to preach about the silver lining. ‘Always find the silver lining in a situation, for no matter how desperate it may seem, one can be found’,” she said, mimicking her mother’s southern accent. “I always thought she was an optimistic simpleton.”
“A smart woman, she was,” Maura piped up.
“But then I got to thinking that without the dreaded pressures of proper society bearing down on me, I am free to have my drinks when I like, smoke when I like and damn well curse when I like,” she said and smiled. “There’s no worry of shocking one of Caleb’s clients or hurting the firm’s reputation by his wife’s bad behavior.” She paused to flick her cigarette and accidentally spilled her drink on the deep-green Persian carpet. Ava gasped and jumped up.
“Ava, it’s not your carpet to worry after anymore,” Arianna reminded her. Ava slowly sat back down.
“You’re right,” she said, somewhat saddened.
“Well, that’s a relief!” Maura chimed in loudly, who had placed herself in front of the fireplace with the decanter of brandy securely by her side. “Because I spilled me Bloody Mary behind Mr. Jonathan’s favorite chair, and I’m afraid it’s gonna stink somethin’ awful tomorra’.”
Ava laughed at her former maid and shrugged her shoulders. “Like Arianna said, it’s not my carpet anymore, Maura.”
“So, anyway,” Arianna said, “I decided this morning that, by the end of today, I would find one silver lining in this whole mess. And I did,” she said, holding up her glass and taking another drag from her cigarette. Claire and Ava weren’t quite sure what to say. Ava had expected her to further fall apart, not actually find a glint of good out of the whole situation.
“Maura, why don’t you make Ava and Claire a drink to celebrate my new found freedom? And no grape juice,” she said and smiled at her devilishly.
“I’d be happy to, love.” Maura returned the sinister grin, wobbled her way to the liquor cabinet to pour two shots of whiskey and delivered them to Ava and Claire.
Arianna held up her glass.
“To good friends and silver linings,” she toasted. Ava and Claire were hesitant and glanced warily at each other. They were accustomed to a single glass of wine with dinner and nothing more. After a moment, they gave each other a ‘why not’ shrug and quickly tilted up their shot glasses.
Claire squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, hard. Ava’s eyes watered, lips puckered, and then she gagged. Arianna and Maura laughed hysterically at them.
“Aye, tis the first shot that burns. The next’ll be easier,” Maura assured them, patting Ava’s head and laughing.
“I think I’m quite all right, thank you,” Ava said with a gasp, wiping her eyes.
“Nonsense!” Arianna yelled. “We’ve only just started! We’re celebrating, remember? Maura, let’s have another all around.”
∞∞∞
The mood was somber as Aryl directed Jonathan and Charles toward the few boxes and crates Claire had organized. Much of the same basic items were included with the only extravagances being Claire’s box of paints, her wooden easel, and a few canvases.
It was getting late and Jonathan was eager to get this depressing task over with and get home to Ava. Aryl took Caleb’s place repairing holes, and Jonathan helped Caleb transport his and Arianna’s belongings, which took three trips because of extra things Arianna couldn’t bear to part with.
When they returned from the last trip, they began cleaning the bathrooms and kitchens. Sven tackled the cast-iron, claw foot tubs, scrubbing off years of black grime from the chipped, white porcelain finish. Caleb fixed the screw plates on the metal garbage chute doors and lined the wall with layers of masking tape to create a seal. Jonathan worked on the sink and gas stove by scrubbing off years of neglect and checking connections. They put Charles in charge of sweeping the floors. He was, after all, in his sixties and had put in more than a full day already. The others admired his tenacity and devotion. The work went on late into the night.
∞∞∞
“Just one more.” Ava giggled and held out her glass, her swaying arm making it hard for Arianna to pour. They were all sitting on the floor cross-legged in a circle.
“I don’t know for the life of me why I never tried this before!” she slurred and tilted her glass back.
Claire leaned close to her and whis
pered loudly, “We were proper women before, that's why!” Claire burst out laughing and fell over on her side. Arianna could barely hold herself up, not from intoxication, but from hysterical laughter at witnessing her friends in a very drunken state for the first time.
“I think this be the last drink o’ the night for ye, my dear,” Maura said, pouring a wobbly Ava another peach brandy.
“But why?” Ava asked with half-opened glazed eyes. “I’m having so much. . . ,” She had to stop to remember the word. “Fun,” she said triumphantly.
“Yes, my dear, but ye’ll be fallin' over on yer face fore long. Yer not used to this strong a drink,” Maura said.
“I wonder what’s taking the men so long,” Claire wondered aloud.
“Caleb told me they would be making some repairs and doing some cleaning so it’s not quite so bad when we get there tomorrow,” Arianna volunteered.
“That’s so wonderful of them,” Claire squeaked and looked as if she would start crying, but a long, loud belch erupted which caused everyone to roll with laughter again. Arianna didn’t like talking about tomorrow. Or yesterday, for that matter. She knew the men would have a late night which is why she secretly planned this little party. Arianna watched her friends, and she was glad that they were a little less miserable.
Claire was giggling at an off-color joke Maura was privately telling her. Ava was slumped over, patting her face with a confused look.
“Ava,” Arianna called to her, smiling. It took Ava a few seconds to find the voice calling her and focus on it. “Are you okay?”
“It’s the strangest thing. I can’t feel my face. I know I have a face, but I can’t feel it,” she half-whispered.
“Definitely time for you to stop, my dear,” Arianna replied. Ava nodded dizzily in agreement. “C’mon, off to bed with you,” Arianna ordered. “It’s very late.” Ava nodded again and tried unsuccessfully to stand up. Arianna and Maura helped her upstairs and into bed, leaving her fully dressed. She passed out before they even left the room. Claire was lying on her back, singing and waving her arms as if she was conducting a symphony. Arianna smiled. Despite her less admirable qualities, she did care for her friends. She felt happy that they would sleep soundly, the sadness of their misfortune far from their minds, even if only for tonight.
∞∞∞
“Arianna, what have you done?” Caleb asked, with a look and tone that was all too familiar as he surveyed the room; toppled over glasses, empty decanters, cigarette butts strewn about, and a very intoxicated Claire lay on the couch. Arianna turned to see Jonathan, Aryl, and Caleb looking rather shocked in the doorway of the parlor. Maura excused herself quickly and hurried toward the door as if she were dodging invisible bullets.
“We had a going away party. It was fun. I wish you could have been here,” she said and smiled ever-so-innocently.
“Where’s Ava?” Jonathan asked with a frown, as he peeled of his coat, now smeared with dirt and bits of plaster.
“She’s upstairs,” Arianna answered.
“C’mon, Claire, let’s get you home,” Aryl said, pulling her to her feet and steadying her.
Caleb pulled Arianna aside. “This is not funny, Arianna. Jon and Aryl have been itching to get home for hours and not to watch their wives sleep,” he said, raising his eyebrows.
“Caleb, don’t you dare scold me. You men have been busy thinking, running, and doing, and we’ve all been stuck here with nothing to do but wring our hands and be scared. We may have gotten a little carried away tonight, but we had fun. This night, by all rights, should have had us crying ourselves to sleep, knowing we have to leave our beautiful houses tomorrow.” His face softened, like it always did, and she snuggled up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Besides,” she whispered and smiled seductively. “I’m still wide-awake.” Caleb looked over at Jonathan. He would make apologies for his wife another time.
“See you tomorrow, Jon,” he called.
∞∞∞
“Sounds like you girls had a hoot tonight, eh, Claire?” Aryl made his way down the street with Claire pulled to his side.
“Maura is so funny!” She giggled. “She told dirty jokes all night. And Ava told us all about her life growing up and losing her parents to the big flu and how her mean ole cousins arranged for her to meet that awful man,” she paused to take a deep breath. “Arianna told us about Paris, the dancing shows, and the operas and all the fun you guys had there and the beautiful women that run around scantily dressed.”
Aryl stiffened. “Oh, yeah? What, uh, else did she tell you about that?”
Claire shrugged sloppily and stumbled over a root distorting the sidewalk. She couldn’t remember many details, even with the cold wind’s sobering effect. The women had taken turns bearing their souls to each other during that uninhibited time between tipsy and thoroughly drunk.
“Where’s Maura?” Claire asked, looking around.
“Charles took her and Sven home. They’ll be back tomorrow to drive us over to the new place.”
“Arianna told us that you guys were cleaning and fixing tonight.” Claire smiled up at him.
“We were,” he said, helping her navigate her way up the steps to their front door.
“That was really sweet of you, Aryl. But we could have done that tomorrow. You have to leave something for us women to do.”
“It wasn’t much. And there’s still plenty to do. You remember what I told you before dinner about the apartment?” he asked as they stepped into the foyer.
“Uh huh,” she said, trying to hang up her coat but missing the knobby end of the hook. He took the coat from her, shaking his head with a smile.
“Let’s get you to bed. I’ll talk to you in the morning before we head over there,” he said.
“Why don’t you talk to me now?” she asked, carefully making her way up the staircase with Aryl’s hands on her waist, keeping her steady.
“I doubt you’d remember a word I said. This is the first time you’ve ever been truly intoxicated, isn’t it?”
“I’m not intop-sir-cated,” she said with a frown.
In their room, he helped her quickly out of her dress and slowly into her silk sleeping gown, taking a few minutes to admire her nakedness as she lacked any kind of modesty in her current state. He helped her into bed, stripped off his own clothes and slipped under the covers. He dreaded the coming day and realized how much he would miss this house and this room. They had made many, many good memories in this room. He rolled over to face Claire.
“You know, Claire, we’re going to have to start all over.”
“Start what over?”
“Making memories. At the new place,” he said, tugging the covers away from her. She grabbed them and pulled them up tight to her chin.
“We’re not at the new place yet,” she said sleepily. He propped himself up on one elbow and pushed the blond hair out of her face.
“Do you remember the lighthouse, Claire?”
“Of course,” she said, yawning.
“What do you remember?” She opened her eyes and tried to concentrate.
“I remember watching that terrible storm from the lantern room. The drafts kept blowing out the candles, and there was lightning and loud thunder . . . the smell of the sea and the musty, wool blankets. And I remember you and me,” she said and smiled, slightly embarrassed and closed her eyes again.
“Do you remember being happy?”
“Of course. I was with you,” she said simply.
“Do you remember being cold and hungry?”
“Yes, now I do.” She snuggled deeper into the covers.
“But you were happy.”
“Yes. Why are you asking me about our lighthouse?”
“Because it’s important, I want you to remember it. I want you to keep those memories in the front of your mind tomorrow. Will you remember that, Claire?” he asked and kissed her forehead.
“I don’t understand.” She yawned wide.
“You will,�
�� he whispered, slipping one arm under her and pulling her close. They were both asleep within minutes.
∞∞∞
Jonathan assumed Ava had only barely drifted off and did not attempt to be quiet while changing and stoking the fire. He flopped into bed, making it wiggle considerably. Her back was to him and she still hadn’t moved. He put one hand on her shoulder and shook it gently.
“Ava,” he whispered. “I’m home, love.” Her response was two loud snorts as she rolled onto her back. She inhaled deeply, as her head rolled, and she exhaled directly into Jonathan’s face.
“Whoa!” His nose wrinkled and he squeezed his eyes shut as he turned away from the peach-tainted stench. He looked back at her in disbelief. She’s as drunk as a skunk! He couldn’t picture his quiet and reserved wife throwing back drinks with Arianna and the others. He looked at her for a moment, astounded and finally kissed her cheek, carefully timing the peck to avoid her exhalation. “Sweet dreams,” he whispered and lay back on his pillow with his hands behind his head. Only two days had passed, yet he hadn’t eaten much, slept even less, and the events had been so emotionally exhausting that he felt as if deprived of sleep for weeks. He couldn’t get comfortable, and his mind wouldn’t stop reliving events he would prefer to forget forever: the scene at the Exchange, Ava’s face when he told her, the confrontation with Victor, seeing the horrendous apartment for the first time, his longtime friend turning his back on him. Moreover, despite Caleb’s optimism, Jonathan knew deep down that there was no possible way to recover from this. Their lives would never be the same. Not even close. It takes money to make money, and they were fresh out of that commodity. It would be a hard life now. Struggling, sadness, and frustration would be daily staples. The room was still and quiet with nothing to distract him from crushing hopelessness. He berated himself for not seeing the warning signs, not saving more cash at home, and for over-extending his credit. All of this ignorance had combined to create the perfect storm that destroyed his life. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. He glanced at the clock. It was after four o’clock in the morning. Ava shifted beside him with a whimper as he got up and tied his robe around his waist. Arianna’s impromptu party hadn’t left him much to console himself with downstairs, but three drinks on an empty stomach, along with little sleep, had him heavy-eyed enough to return to bed, closing his eyes to his old life.
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