Daughters

by Florence Osmund

  “So where was the moderator all this time?”

  “Edging his way toward the door, and as soon as Harold and Gene moved away, he fled, mumbling ‘meeting adjourned’ on his way out.”

  “Unbelievable,” Marie muttered.

  “After the phony meeting adjourned, everyone except for two guys I didn’t know stuck around, and we talked. I knew, of course, that a few of those present were aware of my past and of Richard’s threats because I told them as much last month. That, as you recall, was part of my plan—to admit to my indiscretions, shall we say, before Richard had the chance to expose me. But what I didn’t know was that almost everyone else in the room knew as well. There had to be at least a dozen other men there, besides the ones I told. Seems like the word got around faster than Greg and I ever anticipated. Everyone was on my side, and quite supportive I might add.”

  Claire drew in a big breath. “Well, I’m relieved to hear that, but…”

  “Me too,” Marie added. “And I’m glad that little shenanigan backfired on him. Serves him right.”

  Claire’s eyebrows were raised. “I wonder if he’ll try something else.”

  “I don’t know, Claire,” Jonathan responded. “But we’re not going to worry about it. We’re stronger than that little twit. Sorry, Marie.”

  “No need to apologize to me. I agree with you. Only I have a much worse name for him.”

  Jonathan smiled. “But what Mr. Marchetti doesn’t know is that because of his little escapade, I may have gotten myself a lucrative horse deal. The CEO of Granite Industries, whom I didn’t know until yesterday, wants to meet next week to talk about the small ranch he and his wife just acquired in Geneva. There’s a horse barn on it that will accommodate six horses.” He puffed his chest out. “Ha! Take that, you big ciola.”

  “Jonathan! Your language.”

  He swallowed the last gulp of Scotch. “I’m going to bed. I’ve had one helluva day. Good night, ladies.”

  Marie waited for him to leave. “What does ‘ciola’ mean?”

  “I have no idea.” Claire threw up her hands. “But you can be sure it wasn’t very nice.”

  CHAPTER 5

  ‘Til Next Time

  Tré’s two daughters, Denise and Brenda, arrived on Tuesday to spend the day while their school was closed for parent/teacher day. Marie and Claire took the girls shopping in the morning. Marie could see that the girls loved spending time with their grandma, especially when it involved shopping. Afterward, the four of them stopped for lunch at the Hotel Baker, another special treat for the girls. Brenda scooted into the chair next to Marie before anyone else could.

  When Marie noticed that most of the people seated around them were staring, she shot Claire a puzzled look.

  “We’re not your average patrons.” Claire lowered her voice to a whisper so as not to let her grandchildren hear. “Now more so than ever.” With that, Claire gave her a wink.

  “So how long are you staying?” Brenda asked Marie after they ordered their meals.

  “Three more days.”

  “Are you coming back?”

  Marie glanced at Claire.

  “She’ll be back,” Claire said.

  “When?”

  “I don’t know, Brenda,” Marie replied. “Soon I hope.”

  “How about Christmas?”

  “Brenda!” Denise gave her younger sister a gentle poke on the arm.

  “We would love for you to spend Christmas with us, Marie,” Claire chimed in. “And if it works out for your friend Karen, bring her too.”

  Marie shook her head, somewhat in disbelief of how well the visit was now going. “Okay. And I’ll check with Karen. I know she wants to meet all of you.”

  “Is she white?” Denise asked.

  “Denise,” Claire said. She gently grabbed her granddaughter’s wrist. “Some things just aren’t polite to ask.”

  Marie smiled. “Yes, she’s white.”

  “Is she another relative?”

  “Denise!”

  “That’s okay, Claire. No, she’s just a friend—my best friend.”

  Claire and Marie took the girls on an easy horse ride in the afternoon. The day was sunny and unseasonably warm for November in the Midwest, and they rode the whole property, ending up at Tré’s favorite place high on the ridge.

  Claire let the girls ride ahead. “Marie, what happened back there in the restaurant…”

  “It made me so uncomfortable. There were some people in there who stared at us the whole time, and even whispered to each other. How rude of them.”

  “I know. But I don’t let it bother me. I don’t think they mean any harm. They’re just curious because the other Negroes in town don’t come into places like the Hotel Baker. They’re poor, most of them, and they keep more to themselves. Add you to the mix, and their jaws really start flapping.”

  Brenda turned around and said to Marie, “Hey, did you ever see my dad’s tree house?”

  “No, I haven’t. Where is it?”

  Brenda pointed farther into the woods, off the main trail.

  “Why don’t you two go exploring, and Denise and I will meet you back at the house,” Claire suggested.

  Marie helped Brenda tie up her horse, and they made their way into the brush and trees until Brenda stopped and pointed upward. “There it is!”

  Marie looked up to see the bottom of a tree house—roughly five-by-five and at least twenty feet off the ground. “How on earth did anyone ever get up there?”

  “Grandma said Dad climbed the tree.”

  “How? There aren’t any low limbs.”

  “Grandma never liked Dad going up there, but Grandpa said it gave him character…whatever that means.” Brenda hunched up her shoulders and did a comical impression of Claire. “Then Grandma would say, ‘Give him character? All it will give him, Jon, are two broken legs.’”

  Marie put her arm around the little girl’s shoulder as they walked back to the horses. When she helped Brenda on to her horse, Brenda said, “I’m glad you’re here, Aunt Marie. I really like you.” Marie smiled but then turned her head so Brenda wouldn’t see her swipe away the tear.

  After their morning ride the next day, Jonathan said to Marie, “I have business in Chicago this afternoon. Would you like to join me? You could do a little shopping or something while I’m at the bank, and then we could have a late lunch. What do you say?”

  “Sure.” Her thoughts went immediately to Marshall Field’s where she used to work. “How long do you think you’ll be?”

  Jonathan scrutinized her face as if he knew what was going through her mind. “As long as you need me to be, sweetheart.”

  They talked mostly about Marie’s mother while Walter drove them into the city. “Mom was great. We lived in this little apartment on the north side, and she seemed to be able to schedule her work around my school.” She smiled at him. “I have a feeling you had something to do with that.”

  “Let’s just say I made sure the two of you had everything you needed.”

  Walter pulled the limo up in front of the bank where Jonathan had business. “Take Miss Costa to wherever she wants to go.” He turned toward Marie. “How much time do you need?”

  “Can I have two hours?”

  “Sure. I’ll meet you in the lobby of the bank.”

  Walter nodded and then looked at Marie for further direction. “Marshall Field’s, please.” The anticipation of going back to her old place of work made her shiver. So many memories. When Marie had found herself in a position where she had to flee from her husband, it had meant she had to flee from her job as well, something she regretted up to this day.

  Marie walked with a taut chest through the cosmetic department where she and Richard had had their first encounter. It hadn’t changed much in four years. The store’s impressive architecture, with its twenty-foot-high ceilings and massive ornate columns, was awe-inspiring, especially the center of the floor which opened up into a nine-story domed ceiling that crested wi
th colorful mosaic tiles.

  She made her way to the seventh floor where her office used to be. That had changed. The seventh floor was now menswear. She walked toward the elevator looking for a directory.

  “Oh my God! Tell me it’s not you.”

  Marie turned around to the sound of the familiar voice. Esther looked the same. They hugged each other tight and then in unison swiped tears from their cheeks. “Is there somewhere we can talk?” Marie asked.

  Esther pushed the elevator button. “My office is one floor up.”

  “Your office?” When Marie was there, Esther had held a junior position in the store that didn’t warrant an office. “And what may I ask are you doing these days?”

  Esther grinned. “Assistant buyer.”

  “What? Congratulations!” Marie hugged her again.

  Esther closed her office door and examined Marie’s face. Marie had been her former boss and friend. She shook a finger at her. “Marie Marchetti, we all thought you were dead!”

  She flashed open palms. “I know. I’m sorry. C’mon, let’s sit down, and I’ll explain everything. I have only two hours, so all I can give you are the highlights. But I’d like to get together again when I have more time.”

  Marie talked nonstop for the next hour, telling Esther how she escaped from Richard and ended up in Atchison. She told her about her design business there and her coach house apartment. Then she told her about Jonathan.

  Esther’s mouth was agape the entire hour. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “I know. It’s a lot to absorb.”

  “So you’re telling me that sweetheart of a husband of yours turned out to be a real creep? Do you know how we all envied you? Oh my God! And your father is a Negro? C’mon, Marie. That’s hard to believe.”

  “I know. For me too.”

  Esther’s brows met in the middle. “Why didn’t you contact us to let us know you were okay?”

  “That was so hard, Esther. But I didn’t want you to know anything about me in case Richard contacted you. If he found out you knew something and didn’t tell him…well, let’s just say it wouldn’t have been good for you. I did call Mr. Bakersfield eventually, when I thought it was safe.”

  “That rat—your husband, that is. You know we called your house that night.”

  “The night of the retirement party when I didn’t show up?”

  “Yep. He told us you were running a little late.”

  Marie smiled. “That was putting it mildly. Did you have any other contact with him after that?”

  “No, but I could swear I’ve seen him drive by our house a few times over the years. That car of his is unmistakable.” Richard drove a 1936 Auburn Boattail Speedster.

  “I know.” She paused a few seconds while her mind changed gears. “Esther, how is Catherine?” Catherine was Marie’s old boss, and the last time she had seen her she had been in an iron lung suffering from polio.

  “She passed away, Marie, a few months after you left.”

  More tears. “I’m so sorry. I feel so awful I wasn’t here for her.”

  “Don’t feel bad. Looks like you had your own things to worry about. Besides, we heard that you were the one responsible for getting her an iron lung in their home, and believe me, that helped her through a very difficult time.”

  “Well, it was Richard actually. But in any case, I’m glad we were able to help in some way.” She let out a wispy sigh. “Look, I have to go. I came in with my father, and we’re meeting for lunch in a few minutes.” She took out a pen and piece of paper from her purse. “Here’s my address and phone number. Let me have yours too. And I’ll call you when I’m in town next and we’ll talk more.”

  The two women hugged again before Marie hurried to the elevator.

  “How did it go?” Jonathan asked after they were seated at a lunch table.

  She smiled a blissful smile. “It went well. My best friend at the time still works there, and we had a long talk. I had a lot of explaining to do.”

  “I’ll bet you did. Will you keep in touch?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “You’re not afraid of Richard?”

  “Not anymore. He can try anything he wants. I will not let him affect my life any longer.” Marie thought about her response. “You know, at first that scared me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Not being afraid of him anymore. Because I think I may have been hiding behind that fear in some respects. Then when I decided I wasn’t going to let him do that to me, I felt a little naked.”

  “And now?”

  “I’ve moved on from that.”

  Jonathan put his hand over hers. “That’s the spirit.”

  Jonathan told Marie over dinner that evening that he and Claire thought it would be nice to spend Marie’s last two days in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin. The Feinsteins owned a lake house there and had said it would be free for them to use.

  They got an early start for Wisconsin. Jonathan drove in his 1947 Chrysler Town and Country woody. Marie rode shotgun, and Claire sat in the backseat. Marie spent more time turned around talking with Claire than she did talking with Jonathan. The roads were clear of snow and light on traffic, so they were able to make good time. They arrived at Gregory’s lake house mid-morning.

  Marie was surprised to find that the lake house they had talked about so nonchalantly was quite the place. They pulled up in front of a three-car attached garage and walked the circular driveway through the front door under the twenty-foot-high pillars surrounding the portico. Inside, the foyer spanned both stories, and the large crystal chandelier in its center hung from a long heavy-gauge anchor link chain.

  “Would you like a tour?” Claire asked.

  “Of course,” Marie responded.

  “I’ll meet you on the sun porch,” said Jonathan.

  The home had an oversized eat-in kitchen perfect for entertaining. On the first floor, in addition to the large sun porch, were a formal dining room, large living room with a stone fireplace that took up one entire wall, two bathrooms, and a mud room. Upstairs were five bedrooms and three more bathrooms. Marie chose a bedroom facing the back of the house overlooking Lake Geneva.

  They met Jonathan on the sun porch that faced the lake, where he was sitting next to a table holding a pitcher of lemonade and several glasses. “Aren’t you the perfect host, dear?” Claire commented with a sarcastic smile. “I didn’t know you could even make lemonade.”

  “I can’t.”

  The two women looked at each other and then at Jonathan.

  “Ben and Rachael are here.”

  “Oh?” Claire said. “Was there some kind of mix-up?”

  “You could say that. Apparently Ben thought he and Rachael needed to get away for a few days and without telling his parents decided to come up here.” He glanced at his wife, then his daughter, waiting for a response, when Ben and Rachael walked through the French doors into the sun porch.

  “Looks like I did a pretty big goof, eh?”

  Claire spoke first. “Not to worry. We can find a hotel.”

  “I won’t think of it. You stay here. We’ll find a hotel.”

  Rachael stomped a foot and crossed her arms. “But Dad!”

  Jonathan jumped in. “Look, this house has enough bedrooms. Why don’t we all stay here? That is, as long as no one has a problem with it.” His eyes circled the room.

  “I’m okay with it,” Marie said.

  “Me too,” said Claire.

  “Okay,” Ben added. He turned toward Rachael.

  She extended both arms, palms up. “The more the merrier, I always say!”

  “When did you ever say that?” her father asked.

  “Just now. Didn’t you hear me?”

  Ben tousled her hair while everyone laughed.

  “Can I have the room closest to Marie?”

  Ben hesitated before responding. “Why don’t you and Marie go upstairs and figure out the sleeping arrangements.”

  When Marie and Rac
hael returned, the five of them sat in the expansive sun porch drinking lemonade and watching the weightless snow fall. Toward noon, Ben told them he and Rachael had gone to the grocery store earlier, and there was enough lunch for everyone.

  Rachael jumped up. “Can Marie and me make lunch?” she asked.

  “Marie and I,” Ben said.

  “No, I want to…”

  “C’mon, Rachael. Let’s do it,” Marie said before Ben could respond. “He was just correcting your grammar,” she whispered.

  They spent the afternoon relaxing mostly in the sun porch. Each time Rachael left the room, Ben filled in the others with his thoughts about what was going on with her.

  “I’m very concerned about her,” Ben said. He focused on Claire and Jonathan. “After we left your house the other night, she started to cry in the car. When I asked her what was the matter, she wouldn’t tell me.” He paused while he let out a sigh. “Then later that night, she crept into my room and sat on the edge of my bed until I woke up.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how long she’d been sitting there. Well, she let it all out, saying she missed her mom so much and wanted her to come home. This is so hard.”

  Ben turned around to make sure they were still alone. “Judy was an unfit mother as far as I’m concerned,” he whispered. “But she was all Rachael had, and she’s just too young to understand that.” The sound of footsteps behind him caused him to stop.

  Ben treated everyone to dinner at the nearby yacht club. When they returned to the lake house, he lit a fire. Rachael toasted marshmallows while the others talked in whispers at the other end of the room.

  “It breaks my heart,” Ben said. “There’s only so much I can do as a father, and that my parents can do as grandparents. She needs her mom.”

  “Do you know where she is, Ben?” Claire asked.

  “No, but I don’t think it would take much to find her. I haven’t done that because I thought we were both better off without her. Now I’m not so sure.”