by Joani Ascher
Jane stared down at her sister. That was how the doctor found them a moment later.
He shook his head. “I’ve already called for an ambulance. She’ll have to be hospitalized.”
“Please don’t take her away,” Jane cried. “I can take care of her. It’s my fault. I was working too hard. I didn’t pay enough attention to her.” How had she missed so much? Jane wondered. Why hadn’t she seen Olivia’s illness?
“This sort of thing happens.” Dr. Mann motioned for the ambulance attendants to place Olivia on the gurney they had brought. He felt her pulse one more time and told the men to take her out. “I’ll be right down,” he told them. “It isn’t your fault, Jane. Maybe Olivia will recover in the hospital.”
Jane grabbed his arm as he was turning to leave. His words had made her blood turn to ice water. “You don’t sound like you believe it.”
The doctor turned sad eyes toward her. “I don’t know what to believe. Maybe with some shock therapy—”
“You can’t do that!”
“You must trust us. We’ll do what we can. Please, let me go. She needs help immediately.” He turned again to go, but stopped. “Tell Martin he will need to take care of Ellen, at least for a while.”
It was inconceivable. Was her sister truly gone, leaving Martin responsible for the baby? How would he know what to do? Would he do it?
She had her answers the next day. While she was at work, he came in, packed up the baby, and took her to his mother’s apartment in the Bronx.
Chapter Twenty
Jane woke up on Saturday morning and looked around. Something was different. It was past six, and yet Ellen had not cried. Then she remembered. It was the same nightmare she had suffered through for the past several days, one from which she could not awaken. Ellen was gone, as was Olivia.
Tears flowed, even though Jane had thought she had none left. She felt the urge to wallow in them, in self-pity, something she had never before allowed herself to do. She had to take care of this situation, get her sister healthy, and bring both her and Ellen home. Her brief respite from Martin would be over, but this was too high a price to pay for his absence.
Dr. Mann had said it would be a few days before she could see Olivia. But she could go check on Martin and Ellen right away. She bathed and dressed quickly, skipped breakfast, and took the subway to Manhattan and then to the address in the Bronx she found in Olivia’s address book.
She had never been to Martin’s mother’s home before. It was in a walkup, and if it had been overcrowded just after the war, it was teeming now. Every window had a clothesline full of diapers hanging out to dry, and baby carriages crowded the dark narrow hallways.
Jane knocked at the door. Mrs. Roche opened it, looking far less composed than when Olivia had introduced her to Jane. The woman, a widow, was older than Jane remembered. She wore a frayed housecoat, and her hair was unkempt.
Ellen was crying in the bassinette. Jane rushed to her and picked her up, even before the two women exchanged a word.
Mrs. Roche looked at her myopically and seemed to be searching for her glasses, which were on a table near the telephone. “Are you a visiting nurse? I’m so glad you came. I can’t take care of this child myself. I don’t know what my son was thinking, bringing her here.”
She finally stopped speaking long enough for Jane to respond. “No, Mrs. Roche. I’m Jane Baldwin. Olivia’s sister. Where is Martin?”
“He’s not here. But he said if you showed up, I shouldn’t let you take Ellen. He said he is her father, and she’s not your child.”
Jane would have thought he could manage to stay home with his daughter, if he felt so strongly, but she did not say it out loud. “Where is he?”
“He hasn’t been here in three days,” said Mrs. Roche. “He just dumped Ellen here and said I should take care of her since her mother went to the bughouse.”
Ellen had quieted in Jane’s arms, but she still fidgeted. “She seems hungry.”
“She won’t drink the milk I gave her.”
“She needs formula.”
“I can’t afford that.”
“Didn’t Martin give you any money for the baby?”
“No, and who is going to watch her anyway while I go to the store? I can’t drag her around with me. I have arthritis. And how am I supposed to go to work? My husband died a long time ago, and there’s no money if I don’t go out and earn it. I’ve already missed three days, and there are plenty of people who’d be glad to fill my position if I get fired.”
Stunned, Jane put the baby down, and grabbed her purse. “I’ll be right back. Where is the store?”
She filled up two bags of supplies for Ellen and returned to the cramped and not too clean apartment. She found Mrs. Roche attempting to divert Ellen’s tears with a gentle rocking motion, while holding her like a sack of potatoes. Jane was amazed that her actions were enough to calm the baby.
After preparing enough formula for several days and putting it into the icebox, she gave the baby a good feeding and bath, then sat down to talk to Mrs. Roche.
“I have no idea where he’s stayed for the past two nights,” the old woman said, brushing Ellen’s hair off her cheek with a gnarled arthritic finger. “He hasn’t even called. I’m so tired. The baby seems so fussy. That’s why I called the visiting nurses. They said to go to an agency for a baby nurse. But they’re so expensive, and Martin told me he doesn’t have any money. Said he had spent it all taking care of Olivia and the baby, and you.”
Jane felt the sting of her implied accusation. Despite the magnitude of his lie, since he had never contributed a nickel toward the household expenses, including the food he ate, she felt her face flush with embarrassment. The thought of someone else taking care of her, when she prided herself on taking care of herself, overwhelmed her. She clenched her fists, reminding herself that the only thing Martin paid for was the fifteen-dollar hospital bill when Ellen was born, and that had taken several months.
Jane became aware that Mrs. Roche was still speaking. “You have a job, so why don’t you pay your own way?” she asked Jane.
“I always have,” she said, no longer bothering to hide her indignation. “I paid for everything.” She had even dipped into the savings account she had set up for Z.Z. The account had become unnecessary, of course, but she had been planning to save it for Ellen’s future.
Mrs. Roche’s face fell. “Oh. Then he’s been gambling again.”
Jane knew she would have to pay Olivia’s new hospital bills herself. And now she would also have to pay for Mrs. Roche’s baby nurse, and she would have to buy a crib, a bathinette, and several other items Ellen needed while she stayed with her grandmother.
Mrs. Roche stood up, and Jane could tell it was done painfully. “I can’t do this. When will your sister be home again?”
It was the first time Mrs. Roche had inquired about Olivia.
“It won’t be long,” said Jane.
“Did the doctor tell you that?”
“No.”
“Did you see her yet?”
“Not yet. They asked me to wait.”
“Then you don’t know when she’ll be home. I could be stuck with this baby for a long time.”
“Stuck? How could you think taking care of Ellen is a burden?”
“If you enjoy it so much, why don’t you do it?”
“I would love to. I’ll take her home with me right now. I know of a good person who would be willing to take care of her during the day.” Jane stood up in preparation to gather Ellen’s things.
“No.” Mrs. Roche shook her head. “Martin is her father, and he brought her here. He said if you tried to take her I should call the police.”
“He dumped her here,” Jane said. “For all you know, he isn’t coming back for a long time. Have you tried to talk to him at work?”
“Oh, yes, I’ve tried. He won’t take my calls anymore. The only time he did, he said, ‘Mama, you have a second chance to raise a child. Get it right
this time.’”
“Doesn’t he want to take care of her himself?”
Mrs. Roche looked at Jane. “A man take care of a baby? Where would you get such an idea?”
“My father took care of my sister and me many times,” said Jane angrily. She remembered clearly. He had held Olivia in his arms, rocking her, after Vanessa was gone.
“Well, bully for him. But maybe he should have taken better care of his wives. Maybe they wouldn’t have all died.”
Jane’s face felt hot and she clenched her hands. “Is that what Martin told you?”
“I think you should go now,” said Mrs. Roche. “I’m tired and I want to lie down.”
“Please, let me take Ellen. Or I could stay here and watch her while you nap.”
Mrs. Roche’s eyes clouded. “No. Martin said—well, you know what he said. Now I think you should leave.”
****
Jane paced outside the door of Olivia’s hospital room, waiting for the doctor to say she could enter. She had prayed as hard as she could that her sister would recover and be able to bring her baby home again. Mrs. Roche had not allowed Jane to return, and the agency that had sent the nurse had called Jane to tell her they would no longer be servicing the baby, since they had not been paid. She had sent them two checks, but received another call a few days later, telling her the nurses would not work for that woman. They also advised her the baby was not gaining weight at the normal rate, since the woman had not properly made the formula, and had not boiled the nipples correctly, causing them to partially close up. Ellen had suffered two rashes from being left in a wet diaper all night, and her clothing was too small to fit her growing length, even though it was wide enough, since she was so thin. It was all Jane could do to keep herself from rushing up to the Bronx and taking Ellen from Mrs. Roche any way necessary. Instead she called another agency and ordered twenty-four-hour care. She also sent clothes and supplies up to the Bronx in a taxi.
Jane had consulted one of the lawyers who did work for Mr. Dobbin. He told her Martin had all the rights. But after she called him with the information on how Ellen was being improperly cared for, he advised her to request documentation from the agency and hire a detective to watch the home to see if the baby’s father ever showed up. If not, they could file for custody on the basis of abandonment, as well as neglect by the grandmother. She had done as he said, paying out more money to get the job done.
Jane’s thoughts were interrupted as Dr. Mann finally came out of Olivia’s room. “I had hoped she would respond long before this,” he said. “But she hasn’t. Go see her, and then we’ll talk.”
With trepidation, Jane pushed the door to the room open. She was startled to find that although it was bright daylight outside, the room within was dark, as if dusk had fallen. It was also stale, with the windows tightly shut. Jane longed to throw open the curtains and raise the windows, but then she saw her sister.
Olivia sat in the middle of her bed with her arms drawn around her, rocking and humming.
“Hello, Olivia,” Jane said softly.
Her sister turned to the sound, but did not seem to recognize Jane.
“Olivia, it’s me, Jane.”
“Jane?” She looked at Jane, really, and smiled. Quickly getting out of bed, she ran over to her and threw her arms around her. “I’m so glad you came. Can I go home now?”
“Do you feel better?”
“I feel good. I want to go home.”
Jane smiled. “We can’t wait for you to come home,” she said.
“We?”
“Ellen misses you too.”
Olivia knitted her brows. “Who is Ellen? And where is Father?”
****
When Jane spoke to the doctor afterward, he explained that Olivia fluctuated between thinking she was a child and knowing that her baby needed her. The specialists wanted to try shock treatment on her, in the hopes of jolting her back to reality.
“We’ve tried to get Martin’s permission,” said the doctor, “but we can’t seem to reach him.”
“Did you try his work number?”
“He is no longer employed there,” said the doctor. “They don’t know where he is, and neither does his mother.”
“Can I give permission?”
“You’ll have to get power of attorney.”
“If that’s what she needs, I’ll do it.”
Jane realized afterward she was not at all sure she wanted Olivia to have the treatment. Everything she had ever heard about those treatments was that they were horrible and painful. But she went through the legal motions, since it was also a good way to document her custody case. She could always deny the treatment later, once the paperwork was done.
Chapter Twenty-One
Anne had invited Jane to her home several times during Olivia’s and Ellen’s absence. With effort, she was able to attend on two occasions. The love she saw there, for Irene and between Anne and Schuyler, helped repair her own aching heart. For a few hours she could forget how much she missed Olivia and Ellen.
Once, when she and Anne had a few minutes alone in the kitchen, Anne’s smiles faded. “You look so pale and thin,” she said. “I’m worried about you.”
“I’m doing the best I can,” said Jane. “It isn’t easy.”
“You’re doing it all alone. That only makes it harder.”
Jane shook her head. “I have no choice. But there are people helping me. There’s Mr. Dobbin and Mr. Smith, his lawyer, and Mrs. McGill has been very sweet, and so have you. Just knowing you care helps a lot.”
Anne frowned. “It seems so unfair that you’re alone. It shouldn’t be that way.” She paused, as if gauging Jane’s mood. “I talked to Prescott yesterday.”
Jane remained silent. She had to, otherwise she would have let on that her heart still fluttered at the sound of Prescott’s name.
“He isn’t happy either, you know,” Anne continued. “His marriage hasn’t worked. His wife is so self-centered, and colder than ice. That’s probably why they have no children.”
When Jane did not respond, Anne continued. “He asked how you were.”
Jane jumped. Keeping her voice carefully neutral, she said, “That was kind of him.”
Anne leaned forward and put her hand on Jane’s arm. “I know he cares about you. I think he always has.”
“As a former employer, maybe,” Jane conceded. But her pain and frustration over Olivia made her add, “And as the man who fired me.”
“All the women were expected to give up their jobs,” Anne reminded her. “And stay home and have children. You would have been wonderful at that.”
Jane noted that her friend was painting the facts into a different and not quite accurate picture, but she did not point that out. Instead, she looked straight into Anne’s eyes, willing her for once and all to believe her. “I never wanted to stay home. Even if I married, I wanted a career. And I never really expected to find someone I cared about enough to marry.”
“You must have expected to get married when you were dating that man,” Anne pointed out.
Jane had never told her anything about Z.Z.’s father. Anne did not know it had been Lloyd Hammer, the man Jane had introduced her to that evening so long ago. Jane was not even sure Anne remembered meeting him at the dance club. She imagined it gave him less hold on her if she did not tell anyone his name.
“If I hadn’t trusted that would happen,” said Jane, “we would never have come to be together.”
Anne said, “I didn’t mean to imply—”
“I’m sorry. I’m just very upset.”
“You’re worried about Olivia and Ellen,” said Anne. “I understand. But don’t worry, it’ll all work out.”
They went back to the dining room. Jane was not at all convinced things would work out. But at least the discussion of Prescott Weaver was over. She was happy for small blessings.
****
“You have to sign here for the treatments,” said Dr. Mann.
Ja
ne had uncontested power of attorney. Now the dreaded decision was before her. “Are you positive it will help?”
“Electro-convulsive therapy may be the only thing that will. And you must understand, she’ll need several treatments, three a week over the next few weeks, before we see results.”
Jane had heard about amnesia, burns, and other frightening things that could happen. “Isn’t it risky?”
“There is some danger. But Olivia has no chance otherwise.”
With a sigh, Jane signed her name. Dr. Mann took the paper. Jane waited anxiously for him to return.
It seemed like hours. She kept thinking about Ellen, and Olivia, and even Martin. She was angry with herself for failing to prevent this.
Dr. Mann’s return interrupted her thoughts. “It’s over,” he said. “They’re cleaning her up now.”
“Is she going to be all right?”
“It’s too early to say. She’ll be unconscious for hours. Go to work. Come back tonight, and we’ll see how she is.”
All through the day Jane found it difficult to concentrate. She wandered through the factory, noting the new children’s clothing being manufactured for the fall line. Mr. Dobbin’s children’s wear was being carried by more and more of the finer stores, and Jane had selected several outfits from the spring line for Ellen, including them in the latest package sent to Mrs. Roche. She looked at a few of the fall dresses for Ellen, thinking about the baby’s first birthday. With any luck, and the success of the shock treatments, Olivia would have her baby with her by then.
****
Three weeks passed. Olivia seemed to be better after the second week, and by the third she was nearly her normal self. Dr. Mann said that if things continued to improve, Ellen could come to the hospital the next week. It would be a key determining factor in her recovery.