Ava sat on a bench with her back facing west in order to view both entrances. She sat, nervously fidgeting with her gloves, bouncing her crossed leg, and still unsure of how much she intended to say to this woman. Her heart racing, she wasn’t sure whether she was more nervous because this woman was from Jonathan’s past or because of whom Ruth was married to. She toyed with the idea of abandoning her plan but resolved to do what she must to keep Jonathan; what was left of him anyway.
At three o’clock, a tall blonde in an earth-colored fur coat entered the circle with a white poodle on a leash trotting ahead of her. Just as Arianna remembered, she had striking blue eyes, a cute face with pouting lips and the longest legs Ava had ever seen. Her own self-image took a vicious beating as she looked her over bottom to top and then suffered a final blow as she saw her undeniably substantial and perfect breasts. She hadn't bundled up like the other park walkers. She let her fur coat and dress top hang open; as a result, both her cleavage and legs could be seen from a mile away. Ava watched her glance around the park in anticipation, her eyes only briefly rolling over Ava and then continuing around the circle. She closed her coat with a flash of disappointment on her face, shivered and continued on with her dog. Ava's heart was beating in her ears when she stood and walked up close behind Ruth. She took a deep breath.
“Excuse me,” she said with a shaky voice.
“Yes?” Ruth turned around, smiling.
“Are you Ruth?” Ava asked, shoving her hands in her pockets nervously.
“Yes. Who are you, dear?” Ruth asked sweetly. “Should I know you?” Ava straightened her posture and met Ruth’s eyes.
“You should. My name is Ava,” she said with the slightest hint of anger in her voice. “Ava Garrett,” she clarified and Ruth’s eyes widened slightly. Her angelic smile faded.
“So, you’re the one,” she said under her breath.
“I’m here to talk to you about approaching Jonathan. It needs to stop. He’s my husband, you have no place tracking him down or talking to him,” she tried to sound authoritative, but her slightly faltering voice undermined the attempt.
“I think you underestimate me. And the lengths that I will go to. Not that I expect I’ll have to.”
“He is my husband. And you will leave him alone. He doesn’t want anything to do with you.” Ava pulled off the commanding tone now that she was fully angry at Ruth’s arrogance.
“But he does want what I have, and he will realize that sooner or later. I can offer him money, security, and a return to dignified living. He’ll only be able to resist that for so long.”
“He won’t leave me. He loves me.”
Ruth looked at her with pity. “He felt sorry for you, Ava. Isn’t that what you wanted? You played quite the victim that night from what I hear. Taunting and teasing Victor, and then playing coy. And after tempting him to madness, you ran away with Jonathan. He always did have a soft heart for pitiful creatures. He was always bringing home stray dogs when we were together. And much in the same way, he picked you up, brushed you off, found himself in too deep before even he knew what happened and then couldn’t find a way to end it with you.”
“He found a way to end it with you easily enough.”
“Enjoy him while you can,” Ruth warned. “Luring him away from that filthy, rundown dump will be easier than luring a drunk to wine,” she said. “I’ll bide my time, Ava. I’m very patient. He will eventually get sick of the life he thinks he has to live, and I will be right here waiting when he realizes that it doesn’t have to be this way.”
Ava glared at her, mulling over her possible responses. She was surprised as she watched Ruth’s face transform from a smug smile with mean eyes to a look of slight shock as she caught sight of something over Ava’s shoulder. The slightest hint of fear flickered in her eyes.
Ava turned to see Arianna sauntering up in typical fashion with her head down and her eyes fixed on her prey. Claire fell out from behind her, as they walked the last few steps and stopped on each side of Ava. Then Ava turned and smiled at Ruth with pity.
“Ruth,” Arianna greeted. “How completely unpleasant to see you again.” A nervous Ruth didn’t respond. Arianna looked over at Claire and smiled. “It’s funny, I could have sworn Jon took the trash out that night.” She looked back at Ruth. “I guess the garbage men couldn’t lift the can.”
“This isn’t any of your business, Arianna,” Ruth said politely.
“Oh, but it is Ruth. I can assure you that you are under the delusion that you have what Jon wants, but you couldn’t be more wrong. Jon knows that you don’t really have anything of your own, that any valiant rescuing or love-laced charity would, in fact, ultimately boil down to being on Victor’s dime. And we both know he would rather die than hold one of Victor’s dimes.” Ruth’s face showed the truth in Arianna’s statement, and she nervously searched for a rebuttal. “Now Ava’s request is simple.” She spoke slowly, with insistence. “Stay away from her husband.”
“And what if I don’t?” she challenged, defiantly tossing her blonde hair out of her face and puffing her chest out. Arianna opened her mouth to speak, but Claire interrupted, taking a step forward.
“Ruth,” she began sweetly, “we are three women who have had our entire lives ripped away from us overnight. We’ve struggled with depression and suffered from going without.” Arianna threw Claire a furious look for spoiling an opportunity to wound Ruth verbally in what sounded like an attempt to gain sympathy. “My point, Ruth, is this. We stick together. We are three women on the edge with nothing to lose. And if pushed too far, well, do you really want to see what that looks like?” She dropped her voice with the last sentence. Arianna smiled and the friends turned to walk away. Arianna couldn’t resist one last stab after a few paces and turned back.
“You remember that trip to Paris you took with us, don’t you, Ruth? Of course, you do. And you remember the board meetings that Jonathan went to, which left you in the hotel alone in the evenings?” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Silly Ruth, powerful businessmen don’t hold board meetings at nine o’clock at night! He was in a meeting, all right. Just not one with any board members.”
∞∞∞
“Thank you,” Ava said to them both as they boarded the trolley.
“You honestly didn’t think that we would let you do this alone, did you?” Arianna asked, smiling.
“Well, it was mine to deal with, and you’re just getting over being sick and all.”
Arianna waved her hand as if none of that mattered and stared out the window. Ava turned back to Arianna. “Ruth went to Paris with Jon?” she asked. Arianna nodded. “You were there?” she continued. Arianna nodded again.
She turned to Claire. “What about you?”
“No, that trip was right before Aryl and I got married. I was still in Boston,” she explained. “I only knew Ruth very briefly. Remember, Aryl and I got married shortly before you came along.”
“It was Caleb and I, Jon and Ruth, and Aryl,” Arianna offered. “That’s the only time she ever went with us. Jon found an excuse not to bring her the other times,” she explained. Ava was slightly relieved to hear that. She had been to Paris twice with Jon. However, the last time was a quick trip with no time for sightseeing and fun, and he had gone without anyone.
“Was he with another woman? When he told Ruth he was in meetings?” Ava asked directly. It was impossible for anyone who heard Arianna’s insinuation to think anything differently.
“How the hell should I know? I was drunk most of that trip.” Arianna laughed through her half-truth. Ava left it alone, confident that Ruth wouldn’t be popping her head up anytime soon.
December 14th 1929
On Sunday, Aryl spent the afternoon looking for firewood. Broken pallets and crates were getting harder to find, but he went regardless as he needed the quiet time to think. He had some ideas that he had been considering, but there seemed to be a roadblock for each one that he couldn’t find a way around. He collaborat
ed with Caleb often, and they talked about endless possibilities that were just out of their grasp. He peered down alleys where he normally found at least a few broken boards and planks. He was looking, but he wasn’t really seeing. Caught up in his ideas, worries and fears, he felt as if his life was going to disintegrate even further at any moment, and he was running out of time.
Ava had told him how Claire cried every day but put on a smile in the evening. He could only keep her hanging on for so long. Her hope was pinned on his plan to rebuild their life, and he had yet to come up with anything solid.
And then there was Jonathan. He was literally sinking into oblivion right before Aryl's eyes, and he was clueless how to help him. He and Ava were cracking under the stress of this life, and he could do nothing but watch. Caleb was so consumed with Arianna’s mood swings and near daily sobbing that he could hardly think about anything else. He was starting to show signs of fatigue from constantly pulling her up.
Aryl stumbled backward off-balance, holding his aching forehead and stared, dumbfounded, at the lamppost he had walked directly into. He rubbed the rising lump and looked around to find he had wandered a good distance from home. A sudden gust of icy wind pushed Aryl back a few inches, and he turned his face away from the arctic blast. The gust continued and he turned up his collar, shivering. He glanced up at movement in the window next to him and saw an old man placing a sign in the window of one of the front apartments of the small building. The sign read ‘For Sale by Owner Contract.’ Without making an allowance for how ridiculous it was to inquire about buying an apartment building while out scavenging free firewood, he climbed the steps.
“Can I help you?”
“Hello. I saw your sign and I wonder what your terms were?” Aryl asked.
“Well, I’d like to ask a hundred dollars down and ten-percent of the monthly rents after mortgage,” he said.
“Why don’t you just sell outright?” Aryl asked, wondering his motives.
“Even if I could find a buyer, I owe more than the building is worth. And I would be out of an income.”
“Why do you want to sell at all, if it’s your income?” Aryl asked.
“I’m barely making mortgage. The building is not fully occupied, and I can’t make the repairs needed to get steady renters. But someone like you–” The old man looked at Aryl and smiled. “Someone young and strong, who could put effort into making this place real nice could attract good renters,” he said with hope that Aryl was interested.
“So, you’re looking for someone to assume the building with a down payment, take over management, repairs, and maintenance?” The old man nodded. “And after collecting rent, paying the mortgage and giving you your ten percent, the rest is my profit?” he asked. The old man nodded again. Aryl smiled widely. “I think we can talk. My name is Aryl Sullivan,” he said, holding out his hand.
“Arnold Fuller. Come in, please,” the old man offered and soon had him seated at a dining table with a cup of coffee. Aryl pulled a pen and paper out of his back pocket, which he kept on him at all times for jotting down ideas.
“How many units are there?”
“Twelve. Plus the two storefronts on the first floor.” Aryl wrote the details down as he asked Mr. Fuller a barrage of questions: the total mortgage due, average rent, number of bedrooms in each apartment, current vacancies, heat source, and recent work done. Last, he asked if he could look around the property. The old man was happy to give him a tour.
They started with the two empty storefronts at the bottom of the building. They were half-sunken; the store window at street level, with six steps down to the store entrance.
“These could command higher rent if they were fixed up,” he commented, unlocking the door to the first one. The window had been broken, and it was filthy and neglected inside. It looked to Aryl that this had been a bakery with rounded, glass cabinets and a wood fire oven at the rear of the store. It needed wall repair, paint, fumigating and deep cleaning.
The second storefront wasn’t as badly run-down and looked like it might have been a general store with shelves along both walls and a display counter in the middle. Mr. Fuller took Aryl through each vacant apartment, introducing him to a few tenants, who poked their heads out to investigate. Two of the apartments had two bedrooms, and Aryl knew, if the price was right, there would be a tremendous demand for those. He hadn’t seen anything in the building that scared him away from the idea. Walls with holes, doors hanging from the hinges, bugs, and rats were all things he had been used to dealing with for the last couple of months. They ended the tour and settled back down at Mr. Fuller’s table.
“Well, sir, I can tell you that I am extremely interested.” Mr. Fuller’s eyes lit up. “I do need to talk to a couple of friends of mine. This would be a joint effort.”
“That's okay. You know where to find me.”
Aryl had one last small but crucial detail to inquire about.
“This would be a legal contract?” Aryl asked, as he stood to leave.
“And binding,” Mr. Fuller added. “I would draw up the papers indicating the terms. You are protected from me changing my mind or demanding more than ten percent, and I am protected from you changing your mind or not giving me ten percent,” he explained.
“But technically, it would be a private transaction?”
“Yes. Until the building is paid off and then the deed would carry your name,” he explained. Aryl liked that plan. They all still owed the bank money as their homes and furnishings had not fully paid off their debts. If it were on record that they had any kind of asset, the profit would most likely be seized.
“When are you looking for someone to take over?” Aryl asked.
“Honestly, as soon as possible,” Mr. Fuller said. Aryl sighed and pulled out his notepaper, estimated the three couples’ dwindled savings and calculated how long it would take to save for repairs. He shook Mr. Fuller’s hand again and promised to be in touch. It was snowing, and he hurried home.
He would keep the prospective arrangement to himself, not wanting to raise false hopes if somehow it didn’t turn out to be a feasible plan. He went over every detail in his head and on paper to look for a roadblock of some kind.
He couldn’t find one, so he decided to bring Caleb up to speed a few days later. He explained the opportunity as they walked one evening. After every detail was hashed out, Aryl showed him the figures, and Caleb offered to rerun the numbers and to secure renters. He knew Shannon and Patrick would jump at the chance to have a two-bedroom apartment in a slightly better part of town for no more than they were being charged now. Caleb was anxious to get home and tell Arianna.
“No,” Aryl said. “Let’s wait a little while. Let’s tell them on Christmas. We’ll get Jon on board then. It’s less than two weeks away. That will give us time to work out every detail,” he suggested. Caleb agreed, although it would be hard to keep the excitement to himself.
∞∞∞
That evening Aryl did, however, call the couples together for a meeting at his house. Arianna and Caleb arrived first. Caleb knew what the meeting was about, and his excitement was obvious.
Jonathan and Ava arrived later, and Jonathan’s reluctance to leave his apartment was obvious. His bruising was significantly better, but his mind-set hadn’t recovered.
“Okay,” Aryl started when everyone was settled. “I wanted to talk to all of you about something. I have come across a possible opportunity, and I really think this one will work, although I'm still working out the details.” Claire’s eyes lit up and Arianna looked at Caleb. He smiled, patted her leg, and wished he could tell. It would help her so much to have something solid to hold on to. He found restraint since this would be the only thing he could give her for Christmas. All eyes were back on Aryl.
“So, what is it?” Claire asked excitedly.
“Well, that’s the thing. I’m not ready to give any details right now. I can tell you that it looks very promising, and it’s very attainable if we work
hard,” Aryl explained.
“What is it this time, Aryl? Rice?” Jonathan asked sarcastically as he looked up for the first time.
“No, it’s not rice, Jon. I can’t explain it just yet, but I will soon. I promise. For right now, I need us to save every single penny,” he said, looking at everyone individually. “Christmas is coming, and we may be tempted to buy something for each other, but we just can’t. And I’m not just talking about presents either. We have to save, conserve, and improvise with everything. When it’s time to do this, we will need to put together every cent we have. Please trust me on this.”
Everyone agreed, but continued to pressure Aryl into explaining his plan. He changed the subject to something that he and Caleb deemed necessary and unavoidable, despite his speech on saving money just a few minutes earlier.
“Now, my second bit of news, Caleb and I have decided that we are all going to go see a show uptown tomorrow night.”
“I thought you just said we needed to save every penny!” Ava exclaimed.
“Well, yes, we do. However, we also haven’t done anything fun in a long time. We thought it would be nice to have a night out before we dive into unprecedented frugality. It’ll boost morale,” he said, looking at Jonathan. “So, ladies, be powdered and beautiful tomorrow night by the time we get home. We need to catch the trolley at seven.”
Arianna was smiling and Claire was worried about spending money, but excited to go to a show. Ava patted Jonathan’s hand.
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