A Girl Divided

by Ellen Lindseth

  “Genie, we’re leaving!” Charity called from the front hall. “Don’t miss the bus. Skip is irritated enough you’re taking the afternoon off.”

  “I know, I know!” Genie threw a belt on around her skirt and called it good. By the time she reached the kitchen, her roommates were gone. Grabbing her bag and hat, she flew out the door and down the stairs.

  She had no sooner turned left on the sidewalk, heading toward the bus stop, than a sedan pulled up next to the curb. A man jumped out of the driver’s side.

  “Genie! Genie Baker, wait.”

  To her dismay, it was Dick. Ducking her head, she walked faster, pretending she didn’t see him. Oh Lord, not today. She was already late and emotionally on edge.

  His fingers clamped around her elbow, drawing her to a stop. “Genie, please. I’ve been worried sick ever since I came back and found you and Lavinia gone.”

  Repulsed by his touch, she yanked her arm free. “Well, I’m fine, and what do you mean Lavinia is gone?”

  He reached for her again, and she backed away. Comprehension flashed in his hazel eyes, and his expression hardened. “She told you.”

  “No. She guarded your secret faithfully to the end.” Anger at Lavinia’s betrayal flared in her blood all over again. “I had to learn from someone else.”

  Something like regret flickered in his face. He held his hands out to her. “Genie, I’m sorry. I know I should have said something sooner, but I’m getting a divorce—something I should have done a long time ago, I see that now—so we can be together. Genie, please say you forgive me. I love you.”

  Funny how four months ago, before Ted had told her the truth, she would have been over the moon to hear those three little words from him. Now they only made her sad. And furious. “No, you don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t have tried to turn me into your mistress. How could you even think I would be all right kissing a married man? You knew my father was a reverend, and that I was raised by missionaries.”

  “That was never my intent,” he said earnestly. “That night was a mistake. My control slipped, but that it did is a testament to how much I want you. Desire you. You brought light back into my life. I have done everything I could to take care of you. Do my other actions count for nothing?”

  Her conscience shifted uneasily, because he had done a lot for her. She would have been lost after Nathan’s death without Dick’s help. If he hadn’t been there to lean on during those first dark days and then offered her and Lavinia a place to stay and almost-guaranteed employment, she might have given up and stayed in New York doing heaven knew what to survive. Certainly not learning to fly.

  On the other hand . . . “You lied to me, Dick.”

  “And I apologize. Can we at least be friends?”

  An echo of a similar question from Lavinia came back to her. Her heart twisted with renewed loss. “It’s not that I’m not grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I am. But you and Lavinia should have trusted me with the truth from the start. Yes, I would’ve been shocked and likely would’ve asked for changes, but our friendship would have at least stood a chance of surviving.”

  “But not now.”

  “No.” Pain lanced through her as reality as well as the rightness of her decision solidified in her soul. “After having been lied to about something so big, I no longer trust you. And without trust, there is no friendship, and certainly not love.”

  “So we’re through.”

  She nodded. Nothing she could say would make it easier for either of them, so she stayed silent.

  He exhaled heavily and looked out over the street. “There were two letters for you at the apartment. I didn’t think to bring them. I can drop them by next week.”

  “No, wait,” she said, her heart skipping a beat as she suddenly remembered that Nathan’s grave marker was still in Dick’s front closet. She had meant to retrieve it weeks ago but had been afraid of running into Lavinia, and the awkwardness that would result from it. “I left something in the apartment, and I was planning on stopping by to pick it up—if you don’t mind, that is. I can leave the key on the table after I’m done.”

  He frowned slightly. “Are you sure? The place was pretty cleaned out when I stopped by last week.”

  Sudden unease made her heart skip a bit more. She hadn’t worried too much about not seeing Lavinia at the plant, since they worked in different areas, but to hear that her friend had also apparently moved made Genie wonder if there was something more to her friend’s absence.

  She took a deep breath and told herself Lavinia was fine. “I should still check. Better safe than sorry.”

  “All right.” He gave her a small, sad smile. “And if you decide, once you’re there, that you want to move back in, that would be all right, too. The rent is paid up for another three months.”

  She shook her head. “Dick—”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “I know, I know.” He winked at her, a little of his irrepressible spirit returning. “Can’t blame a fellow for trying. But I should let you go, so you won’t be late.”

  She gasped as she remembered the time. “Oh shoot!”

  Without even saying goodbye, she sprinted for the corner. To her dismay, her worst fears were confirmed. The bus stop was without its usual crowd of people. She had missed the bus and would now officially be late to work.

  Skip would fire her for sure.

  She whirled around, hoping against hope Dick would drive her. He wasn’t there. His sedan was gone, too. But then why should he hang around after she had turned him down so completely?

  Tears of frustration burned in her throat. She could wait for the next bus and throw herself on Skip’s nonexistent mercy when she got to work. Either he would fire her on the spot, or he’d spitefully revoke her afternoon leave so she couldn’t meet her aunt and uncle, forcing her to quit. Or, more likely, once again try to pressure her into having sex with him, now that he had broken it off with Gloria. Wonderful.

  Well, she had been thinking of looking for a new job, anyway. Maybe this was the Lord’s way of telling her it was time. And maybe it was time for her to start listening to Him again.

  She glanced at her watch. Four hours before she had to meet the train. Plenty of time to do all the things she should have done weeks ago.

  She realized now that she had been hiding these last few weeks from the pain in her life. Well, she was through with that. Dick had started the ball rolling by showing up this morning, and she had survived. She might as well continue down the path.

  Rehearsing what she would say, she ran back up the stairs to the apartment. After throwing her bag on the chair, she picked up the phone and dialed before she could change her mind. Her hands were slick with perspiration as she waited for the Vultee switchboard operator to put her through. She wiped one hand on her cotton skirt, and then the other.

  “This is Stuart Winston.” The impatient edge in Skip’s voice shook her resolve. What are you doing, Genie? You need this job. You need the money, the character reference for the training program application. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Winston, this is Genie Baker.” Hating how breathless she sounded, she tightened her hold on the receiver and continued more forcefully, “I—I’m not coming in today. In fact, I quit. I wanted to give two weeks’ notice, but I think we both know that would be ill advised, given your interest in me.”

  She stopped herself in the nick of time from adding I’m sorry, because she wasn’t.

  Silence greeted her pronouncement, and her knees turned to water as she waited, a million doubts assailing her.

  “I see,” he said finally. “You sure you want to do this? We’re busier than ever. You’ll be leaving us shorthanded at a really bad time.”

  She felt herself weakening. He was right; they were extremely busy recently, with the new government contracts rolling in. The other girls in the office pool would hate her if she quit. Tension coiled in her shoulders, making her feel ill.

  Don’t do it, Genie. Don
’t give in. Skip will make your life miserable. He’s already asked you twice this month to meet him at the hotel after work. How much longer do you think you can hold him off? And there’s a Help Wanted sign on nearly every corner.

  “You’ll be fine,” she said before she could change her mind. Again the urge to apologize rose within her, and again she shoved it down. “Goodbye, Mr. Winston.”

  She hung up, light-headed with relief. There was a lot she would miss about working at the plant, but Skip wasn’t among them.

  She glanced at the clock on the wall. Still time to catch the number nineteen over to Dick’s apartment and deal with the next thing she had been avoiding for too long. Well, two things, really: the ghosts of the dead and the living—Nathan and Lavinia.

  Thirty minutes later, she got off the bus at her old stop. She dug through her bag to find her key to her former apartment. Perhaps it was telling she had never gotten around to returning the key. Like this morning, she could have asked Dick to bring her the grave marker, thus avoiding the trip. But she hadn’t.

  A wave of nostalgia rolled over her as she unlocked the building door. How clearly she could remember lugging her suitcase up the stairs that first day. So much trepidation and hope. And then, after her first flight lesson, she had raced up these same steps, taking them two at a time, eager to share her excitement with Lavinia.

  She took a deep breath against the rush of bittersweet pain. How innocent she had been. How green. How trusting.

  The familiar odors of the building greeted her as she made her way up the two flights of stairs, releasing more memories. By the time she unlocked the apartment door, she half expected to find Lavinia there, standing by the table, waiting to hear how her day had been.

  “Lavinia?” she called as she walked in, even though she knew no one was there. Nor had been for some time. There were no lingering smells of food or soap. Just empty silence.

  Feeling like an intruder, she ventured farther into what had been her apartment. It looked the same as the last time she had been there, though someone had put away the dishes and taken out the garbage. On the dinette table were two envelopes, just as Dick had said. Curious, she walked over, wondering who they were from. She hadn’t even thought to have her mail forwarded.

  Her fingers hovered over the envelopes as she recognized the handwriting. Both were from Lavinia; only one was addressed to Genie, and the other was to Kitty. Kitty’s was stamped “Return to sender.” Abruptly, Genie fell back in time to that fateful afternoon when Dick had showed up out of the blue. Had Lavinia mailed it then, after Dick had given her the address, or was this a later one?

  Perhaps if Lavinia had been brave enough to tell her the truth that day—or the next, when Genie had pressed her on why she didn’t like Dick—things would have turned out differently. Instead the widow had chosen to cling to her secrets. And maybe she had been right to do so, considering how you threw her aside when they came to light.

  She shook her head, denying the thought.

  Lavinia’s mistake had been in lying to her, not in being attracted to women. Unnatural as it seemed, how Lavinia handled her love life was between her and the Lord. Lavinia’s “curse” was not why Genie had pulled away.

  Liar. Dick’s lie was even more damning, and yet you sent him away with kindness. Not kicked like an unwanted dog.

  She sucked in her breath at the unfairness of the accusation, but the guilt and despair spilling into her veins told her otherwise. Some of the things she had said that night had been unforgivably cruel. She had not only “kicked” Lavinia; she had kicked her when her friend was down. How many times had she begged her friend to tell her the truth about her curse, promising to understand?

  She wanted to sink into the ground, her sorrow and disgust over her failure complete. Lavinia had known her better than she had known herself, and the truth of that was devastating. Despite knowing Genie’s limitations as a decent human being, Lavinia had remained her friend. Genie was the one who had thrown their friendship away.

  With shaking hands, she took up the letter addressed to her, almost afraid to open it.

  Lavinia’s spiky, erratic handwriting was difficult to read. Reading the contents, though, was even more difficult.

  Dear Genie,

  I’m leaving town today because I know you never want to see me again, and this will help with that . . .

  Silent recriminations blurred Genie’s vision, and she had to blink several times to see the paper again.

  I hope you keep flying. I tried to help out where I could by covering extra expenses so you would have more money for lessons. And I hope you will forgive me, but I took Nathan’s grave marker. I know you paid for it, but it bothered me that we never did anything with it. I know you won’t believe me, but I really did care for him.

  I replay that last day over and over in my mind, wishing I had thought to say or do something different. I didn’t kill him, Genie. After you left the cabin that morning, I went to find him. I couldn’t believe what you had said was true, but yes—he was going to take me to my father’s. We were standing by the outside stairs, in the midst of a heated argument, when Kitty arrived.

  For reasons she never explained, she began to taunt Nathan, until he was beyond furious. Then she turned and kissed me full on the mouth right there in front of him. I pushed her away, but it was too late. He had already gone pale, his horror so clear it is forever imprinted on my soul. I reached for him, begging forgiveness. He backed away as if faced with a monster, heedless of the stairs behind him. The rest you know.

  The train is leaving soon.

  May you live with the Lord’s blessing,

  Lavinia

  P.S. One last thing. I’m ashamed to say I was so angry with Kitty those final days aboard ship, I threatened her, which is why she paid for us to fly to California. I’m sorry that you share my guilt in that, even if only by association. As for Kitty, I find that, with the passing of time, even if I can’t forget her role in Nathan’s passing, I can forgive her. I hope someday you will forgive me. —L

  Genie stared sightlessly at the cramped letter for she had no idea how long.

  Her poor friend.

  Genie had utterly failed her. Numbly, she put the letter back into the envelope. The letter to Kitty she would discard somewhere discreet, unopened, and away from prying eyes. Safeguarding her friend’s privacy was the least she could do at this point.

  Shoving both letters into her purse, she double-checked the front closet. As expected, the grave marker was gone. Aware of the passing minutes, Genie went into the bedroom one last time. Drawn by some unknown impulse, she went to the wardrobe and opened Lavinia’s drawers.

  To her surprise, her friend’s clothes were still there, neatly folded, but perhaps there were fewer items. It was hard to tell. Silently asking Lavinia’s forgiveness, she opened the bottom drawer, the one where her friend had kept her most private things. Carefully, she moved aside the familiar pile of sweaters. The faded floral blouse and long skirt were still there, as was the water-stained Bible. However, the journal was gone.

  Her gaze caught on a scrap of paper sticking out of the Bible. With shaking fingers, she opened the book to remove the torn remains of a black-and-white photograph. The one from Thailand. Lavinia and Marcus and the other male missionary looked somberly out at her, but the woman was gone. Only I fell in love again . . . Lavinia’s words swirled like apparitions in the silence, leaving the identity of the woman no longer in question.

  Some things were too precious to be left behind.

  Genie closed her eyes against a surge of remorse. Who was she to damn Lavinia for finding love wherever she could, especially after all her friend had lived through? Was Genie any different, letting her desire for love initially cloud her judgment with Dick? The need to love and be loved in return was the root of the human condition.

  Her father would be appalled by how quickly she had cast Lavinia out. He, who after finding Zhenzhu, had opened his home to t
he homeless and had served as a friend to the friendless Wu Fang, bringing him back to the village to live. She was appalled.

  When had she grown so cold? The worst part was that she was never likely going to have a chance to apologize. Wherever Lavinia had gotten off to, the permanence of the ripped photo suggested she was never coming back.

  The soft ticking of the wall clock reminded Genie she needed to get going. Unsteadily, she made her way to the door and gave the apartment one last visual sweep. Somehow, she would figure out a way to make things right, even if it took her a lifetime. Lavinia deserved better.

  “Forgive me,” she whispered to the empty rooms, hoping somehow her friend would hear. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  With nothing left to hold her there, she placed Dick’s key on the kitchen counter and left.

  Chapter 41

  Genie rushed into the cavernous waiting room of Union Station and scanned the mass of humanity for any likely older couple who might be her aunt and uncle. Unfortunately, all she had to go on was a twenty-year-old photo in her father’s study. Her search wasn’t helped by the hundreds of people crowding through the beautiful room. On any other day, she might have stopped to admire the soaring wood-beamed ceiling and floor-to-ceiling windows that filled the airy space with natural light. She might have even taken the time to examine the four enormous chandeliers with their art deco detailing. This afternoon, she only noted them in passing. After reading Lavinia’s devastating letter, she didn’t have the emotional energy for anything but her immediate mission.

  Her gaze snagged on a dark-haired man and a short, rounder woman standing beneath a huge clock jutting from the wall. Both were neatly, if conservatively, attired, much as she would expect her father’s family to dress. However, it was the way the woman peered intently at everyone who passed with a worried look on her face that decided it.