The Coach House

by Florence Osmund

  * * *

  A couple of days following the Aiuppa article, Marie had one of her reoccurring nightmares where she woke up with strange men in her bedroom and had no way to protect herself. Richard was always among them. The next day, feeling particularly assertive, she made a serious decision. She decided to buy a gun.

  According to the Yellow Pages, the nearest gun shop was in Kansas City. Marie was nervous about what she was about to purchase, and the drive there seemed longer than usual. She pulled into the parking lot of the gun store and sat in her car for several minutes before going in.

  The owner of the store, Barry Stone, recommended a Smith & Wesson .38 special revolver. An avid gun collector himself, Barry told Marie he had been selling guns for ten years, but never before to a woman. He showed her the gun, handling it like most people would handle a rare artifact, his hands carefully gliding over the weapon while he talked about it. When he was done, he handed it to Marie. “Here…see how it feels to you.”

  She let him place the gun into her shaking hands. “It feels pretty heavy.” She put it down on the counter and took a step back. The only other time she had touched a gun was when she found Richard’s in his desk drawer.

  Barry gave her a compassionate look. “Can I ask you a question?” Marie shrugged her shoulders. “Why do you want to own a gun?”

  Marie gave him a poker-face look and didn’t say anything.

  “The only reason I ask is that maybe I can help you become more comfortable with it. If I knew what you intended to use it for, I’d know how to best help you.”

  “I just want to be able to use it in case I have to.”

  “So you want it for protection.”

  Marie nodded.

  “Okay, that’s understandable. I’m assuming you’ve never shot one before.” Marie nodded. “Would you like me to teach you how to use it?”

  She hadn’t noticed his ice-blue eyes before. “Yes, I’d like that.”

  Barry owned a large piece of property in Leavenworth where he set up target practice for Marie. His first goal was to reduce Marie’s anxiety over guns to a manageable level. Not an easy task.

  At her first lesson, he explained how the gun worked mechanically. He taught her about gun safety and how to clean it after each use. Then he showed her how to hold it, the proper stance, and how to align the sights. By the time she pulled the trigger for the first time, she was surprisingly at ease with it.

  Much to both her and Barry’s shock, Marie had a natural talent for shooting. After just a few lessons, she could consistently hit targets from fifty feet within a half-inch of the center.

  At the end of her last lesson, Barry asked her if she would like to have dinner with him sometime.

  The question took her by surprise. “I’m married.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t see a wedding ring, so I assumed…”

  “Well, it’s a long story,” she explained. She found him ruggedly attractive and regretted having to play this game, especially since deep down she longed to be with someone, someone who would make her smile, someone to hold and touch and whisper to when the lights were turned off…but all that would have to wait.

  “Too bad,” he said. “For me, that is.”

  She kept the gun in the drawer of her nightstand…loaded. It gave her what she had hoped for, peace of mind.

  Marie considered one of her challenges to be maintaining an awareness of what Richard could potentially do to her without being absorbed by it, without it controlling her life. She and Karen talked about it one evening.

  “It’s all about facing fears,” Marie said to her. “How do you face yours?”

  “I don’t think I have any.”

  “Everyone has fears.”

  “Not me.”

  Marie looked deep into the eyes of her best friend. “Tell me, Karen. Why haven’t you been in any relationships since Ed died?”

  “Because I don’t want to.”

  “Why not? You said your marriage was good.”

  “It was.”

  “What was good about it?”

  Karen thought about it for a moment. “He was always there for me. Supported me in anything I did or wanted. He encouraged me to do things I wouldn’t have otherwise done. We talked about that. Was a loving husband.”

  “Don’t you want that again…with someone else?”

  “No.”

  “So what are you afraid of?”

  Karen teared up, unable to speak for several seconds. “That it will end painfully. I could never go through that again.” She put her head in her hands and silently sobbed.

  Marie got up and hugged her. “I’m sorry, Karen. I shouldn’t have pushed you there just to make a point.”

  Karen composed herself. “No need to apologize. I needed to admit that. You know what?”

  Marie shook her head.

  “This is how messed up I am. My second biggest fear is that I’m going to die alone.”

  “Just when you least expect it, you’re going to meet someone who is going to rescue you from those fears, you know.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Well I’ve come to the realization that if your fears keep you from living your life the way you want to live it, they have to be faced head-on. Ignoring them won’t make them go away. And that’s what I intend to do. So are you with me?”

  “And just how are we going to do that?”

  “I don’t know that yet.”

  * * *

  The next morning Marie opened her door to two men who flashed FBI badges at her.

  “May we come in?”

  Her immediate thought was they may not be on the up and up and Richard may have had something to do with their visit. She pointed to a bench in one of Julia’s gardens and said, “Can we talk over there?”

  One man did all the talking. He asked Marie what her relationship to Richard Marchetti was, the dates they were together, what activities they did together, and which of his friends and colleagues she knew. He spent the most time asking her why she left him and if she had had any contact with him since then.

  Marie answered all his questions openly and honestly. When they appeared to have all the answers they needed, the two men got up to leave.

  “May I ask what this was all about?”

  “Several Chicagoans, including your husband, were just arrested for illegal gambling in Illinois and Wisconsin. We’re still uncovering others who were involved.” He tipped his hat. “You’re clear. Good day.”

  * * *

  Marie and Karen arrived in New York just as the leaves were starting to turn to their autumn reds, yellows, and golds. Not able to check into their room yet, Marie took Karen to see Central Park. The cool crisp air invigorated them as they walked arm in arm down 5th Avenue. “Look at these buildings, will you? And I thought Chicago was big,” Karen remarked.

  “This is a lot bigger and way more spread out.”

  “How many times have you been here?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Five or six times, I think.” Marie thought about her life in Chicago with Richard and their frequent trips here, sometimes taken on the spur of the moment. She had to admit the good times were really good. “Things have certainly changed for me during this past year and a half,” Marie said after they got settled in their hotel room.

  “I’ll say. I can still picture you that first day you stepped into my shop.”

  “I was pretty pathetic, wasn’t I?”

  “Well, let’s just say you were just a shadow of the person I know today.”

  “I couldn’t have come this far without you, Karen.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I mean it. You’ve been the best friend anyone could ever ask for. I love you like the sister I never had.” She turned to Karen and gave her a hug.

  “Well, I could say the same about you, you know.” The two women smiled at each other.

  “It’s been a long road for me, and I still have a long way to go. Karen?”

  “What?”


  “Let’s always be friends. No matter what happens in our lives, let’s promise each other to never get out of touch. What do ya say?”

  “No matter what,” Karen promised.

  “Now c’mon. Let’s go shopping!”

  The two women strolled down Park Avenue, the street bustling with businessmen and shoppers. “So is you-know-who still in jail? What if he’s out and happens to be here?” Karen asked. “You said he comes here quite often.”

  “My guess is that his jail time wasn’t very long, but I really don’t know. If he’s here…Oh, I don’t know. I may give him a nod, but then again maybe I won’t.” Both women laughed as they entered Macy’s.

  “Yep, you sure have changed, my friend.”

  They visited several shops, bought very little, but thoroughly enjoyed the shopping experience and each other’s company. They were walking through the lobby of their hotel on the way back to their room when Marie stopped short. There, seated at one of the tables in the lobby bar, were Lucy and Max Guzik. Marie pulled back on Karen’s arm and guided her to behind a potted palm.

  “That’s the woman I told you about who I helped in Marshall Field’s one day. Remember? That’s her mobster husband.”

  “Marie, you’ve got that look in your eye. What are you thinking of doing?”

  “C’mon. Let’s have a cocktail before dinner,” Marie suggested, sounding more confident than she actually felt.

  “Are you nuts?”

  “Maybe.”

  Marie led the way to a table near the Guziks and sat down in the chair where they would most likely see her. It didn’t take long. Lucy waved to her. Marie waved back. When the Guziks finished their drinks, they both nodded at Marie before exiting the bar area. Marie smiled back at them with her biggest smile.

  “Okay, why did you purposely let them see you?”

  “Two reasons. One is to let Richard know I’m not in hiding. And the other is to let him wonder what I’m doing in New York.”

  “So you think Mr. Mob Man will tell Richard?”

  “These guys stick together like glue.”

  “You look proud of yourself.”

  Marie sat up a little straighter. “I guess I am.”

  “I’m proud of you, too.”

  Marie signaled the waiter for the check, and when he arrived at their table, he informed them their tab had been taken care of.

  * * *

  Feeling confident and invigorated when she returned from her New York trip with Karen, and still not having heard anything from Jonathan, Marie decided she needed something new in her life, something she hadn’t thought of ever doing before. Something fun. And she had the perfect idea for it. She drove to Hiawatha to one of the many horse ranches in the area and signed up for horseback riding lessons, every Saturday morning.

  The horse trainer assigned her to Moji, a fairly docile seven-year-old quarter horse. She was afraid of Moji at first and uncomfortable sitting on his back. Every time the horse raised its head or lifted its tail, Marie tensed up, not knowing what it was doing. The trainer was patient explaining the body language of horses to her. Once she learned Moji was testing her and what she had to do to gain control, Marie and Moji were able to relax and enjoy long trail rides together.

  After taking riding lessons for a short period of time, Marie bought a horse of her own, a Tennessee Walker, just like the ones on her father’s ranch. The three-year-old champagne gelding had a long neck and easy stride. She named him after her father, JB.

  Marie thought of Jonathan often, but not like she did when she was on her horse. When she was on JB she felt a connection, a bond, not only with the horse, but with her father. She wasn’t sure whether it was the sensation of hugging something that was so near and dear to her father or something else. All she knew was that the more she rode, the stronger the bond got.

  She had just finished one of her riding lessons and was on her way to pick up Karen to go shopping at Country Club Plaza in Kansas City. When Karen got in her car all dressed up, Marie decided to go home and change out of her casual riding clothes.

  “C’mon up while I change. It won’t take me long.”

  The phone was ringing when they entered Marie’s apartment. Karen sat in the living room flipping through a magazine while Marie talked on the phone in the kitchen. She joined Karen on the sofa when she was through.

  “It was him.”

  “Who?”

  “Jonathan.”

  Karen stared at Marie with wide eyes. “Well?”

  “He’s invited me to his home…with his entire family…for Thanksgiving.”

  “No kidding.”

  Marie shook her head.

  “Just for the day?”

  “No.”

  “How long then?”

  “He’s talking two weeks.”

  “What!?”

  Marie nodded, unable to speak for a long moment. “Two weeks,” she said in disbelief herself. “He says he wants to come here with his driver and pick me up so that we have the whole way to his house to talk by ourselves.” She looked at Karen and let out a shriek. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “So what else did he say?”

  “He said he wants me to meet his family…and then he corrected himself and said your family.” She clutched her heart. “My family.”

  “You’re kidding. So his wife must be okay with it, right?”

  “I don’t know, but then he’s inviting me there for two weeks, so…good grief, I hope she’s okay with it, or it’s going to be a very long two weeks.”

  “What about his children?”

  “He didn’t mention them except that he wants me to meet the whole family, so I assume that means his children. God, I wonder what they’re like.”

  “When are you leaving?”

  “He said he’d call me in a couple of days and work out the dates, but he’s thinking the week before and after Thanksgiving.”

  “That’s in less than a month!”

  “I know. You know what the last thing he said was?”

  Karen shook her head.

  “He asked me to call him Dad…that is, if I was comfortable with it.” She couldn’t control the hitch in her throat when she said the word, Dad. “I’m twenty-four-years old and have never called anyone Dad in my life.”

  “So are you comfortable with it?”

  Marie took a moment to think about Karen’s question. “I don’t know, and I don’t think I will know until the first time I’m faced with it.”

  “This is what you’ve wanted for a long time, Marie. Now that it’s here, is it a little scary?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Being part of a big family. Your childhood dream, remember?”

  “Yeah. It’s scary alright.”

  Karen leaned over and hugged her. With tears welling up in her eyes, she sobbed, “I am so happy for you.”

  Marie couldn’t hold her own tears back. They held each other for several seconds.

  “You are happy, aren’t you?” Karen asked.

  “You have no idea.” Marie looked past Karen into another time and space before continuing. “But I’m nervous, too. What’s saving me right now is that I don’t think he would have invited me to his home if he didn’t think it would go well, especially with his wife. You met Claire that day. What do you remember about her?”

  “All I remember, Marie, was that she was attractive, well dressed, and very nice, easy to talk to.”

  “Do you remember how dark her skin was?”

  “If I remember correctly, she had close to the same skin tone as Jonathan, which was pretty light. Why?”

  “Just curious.”

  “C’mon. Let’s go shopping for your trip!”

  * * *

  With her trip to St. Charles drawing near, Marie reflected more than usual on her life—past, present, and future. Thoughts of her mother both plagued and pleased her. She desperately hoped Jonathan would tell her details of how they met, what their re
lationship was like, and what conversations took place before Marie was born.

  Her new family. That was both an exciting and chilling thought. Two half brothers. Two Negro half brothers…and their wives…and Jonathan’s wife…and their two grandchildren. It was overwhelming.

  Jonathan’s wife. How on earth will she act toward me? What if there’s tension? There’s got to be. Can I survive two weeks in a house full of tension?

  She thought about Richard, the good and the bad. As far as she knew, he hadn’t come through with his threats against Jonathan, but then again his activities had been interrupted with a stint in jail. She wondered how long he had to stay there and if he was taking that opportunity to plot something against Jonathan.

  Reliving her meeting with Jonathan and the more recent phone call gave her comfort as well as angst. She couldn’t help but wonder how the conversation went with his wife and then his children. What were the chances that everyone was okay with her being the newest member of Jonathan’s family? Just how will I fit in?

  Her thoughts about her newfound ethnicity were in complete disarray. She kept going back to the movie, Pinky. She thought about how much better Pinky was treated when she passed for white, how easy it was to be in a relationship with a decent and intelligent man. But Miss Em’s words echoed in her head. Don’t deny your true self. Right now Marie didn’t know who her true self was.

  Thoughts about someday having a family of her own haunted her. How could she do that now? No white man would want her if he knew of her heritage, and she didn’t think she’d feel comfortable with a colored man. If she continued passing for white, she might have a chance with a relationship, but not without the cost of deceiving him and herself. And children would be out of the question, as she wouldn’t put any child through what she was going through.

  If it weren’t for the guilt and the self-loathing, Marie thought she would continue passing for white. At least then she could continue being treated with respect and avoid being associated with a group of people who were constantly degraded by whites. And, as despicable as it was, she kept reminding herself she wouldn’t have gotten as far as she did in her life if she hadn’t kept passing for white.