LOST TO THE WORLD

by Libby Sternberg

  A hiccup of pain escaped her lips as she nodded.

  ***

  It was impossible to get much else from her. After an hour of struggling with a game of twenty questions, all they had was Susan’s anger with Julia—a tear had rolled down her swollen cheek when Sean had pressed her again on the name—and something about a “note.” That had been the only word that either of them could make out as Susan had tried to articulate through a jaw that barely moved. Eventually the nurse had ushered them out of the room. If they wanted more from Susan, they’d have to wait until she recovered sufficiently. Sean called Brigitta from a payphone to tell her he’d be late, and they left.

  It was the time of long shadows as they drove back into the city, right after the worst of end-of-day traffic when a sense of peace descended over all families, gathering around tables for dinner, saying their Grace, telling each other stories about the day. Sean’s peace was rattled. Julia Dell, that sweet little secretary, surely wasn’t capable of…this. It was as if someone had accused his Mary of starting the war. She was an innocent with a pure heart.

  But still, there was always that sense Julia was hiding something, her true self, from the world. It came out in flashes of bitterness.

  “She could have used her cane,” Sal said after a long silence. They were passing Chesaco Avenue just northeast of the city. They’d be downtown soon.

  “On Susan?” He tried to sound disinterested, not disappointed.

  “On both of them, Lowenstein and Susan.”

  “What’s the motive?”

  “Dr. Lowenstein—or rather, Dr. Hill—isn’t working on polio. She’s a polio. She wants them all working on her problem. Susan worked for the slacker doctor, so…”

  “That’s a lot of rage for a pretty slim reason. Why now? And what about the blackmail?” Sean gazed out the window. They weren’t that far from his home where Brigitta was probably opening cans of soup for the boys, as he’d instructed her. He was relieved she was there with them, but the good feelings he’d conjured up earlier had somehow turned as flat as his disappointment about Julia.

  “Maybe now that things are getting closer, the vaccine and all, she got madder?” Sal mused. “She’s been upset about the investigation slowing things down, hasn’t she? And we don’t know about the blackmail angle for sure, buddy. Could be the good doc was using the money to give to his church or something. Anonymously. Just like his last gift.”

  Sean said nothing.

  Finally he spoke. “If she’d used her cane, it would show some damage, don’t you think? I’ll check it out.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “YOU TOOK THAT TURN TOO WIDE. You almost ran into that poor old lady in the Ford!” Beth pointed to Helen’s left where a blue-haired woman was hunched over the wheel of her old car, looking aghast as she veered to avoid Helen.

  “Sorry. I’m still getting the hang of city driving.”

  “And doing a good job, too!” Julia sat in the back, her hands glued to the edge of the seat as she looked ahead to the next stop sign wondering if she should point out to Helen that it was there. Next to her were Beth’s three kids who yelled “whee!” every time they turned a corner. Up front, next to Beth, was Mutti, who had just murmured a soft “Mein Gott!”

  Julia wanted to ask Beth how she’d make it home in time to fix dinner for Stu but she was afraid to distract her when she had to help Helen navigate.

  When Beth had arrived at the hospital that evening and announced that Helen was driving them all home, Julia had been shocked. She’d assumed that Beth had badgered Helen into doing it and had started to say that if Helen wasn’t comfortable, they shouldn’t force her. But Helen had interrupted, telling them all it was her idea. She wanted the experience and the best way to get it was on the road, doing the kind of driving she’d have to do once Father was home. She’d taken the keys and slid behind the wheel with serene determination. As Beth had barked out instructions, she’d nodded and complied, jolting them away from the curb almost into the path of a blaring truck heading up Broadway. Julia had comforted herself by thinking that Beth wouldn’t have allowed Helen to drive if she thought it was endangering her own children. Would she?

  As soon as they were out of the heart of the city, Helen seemed to relax and the drive was smoother. Or maybe it was the rest of them who relaxed. Julia looked at the back of her sister’s head, straight and regal, softly curling locks overlapping her sky-blue sweater collar. There was something about Helen now that she was learning to drive. In the space of a few days, she’d become more confident.

  When she finally nudged the car into a parking spot in front of their home, Helen was silently victorious. Handing the keys to her sister, she asked, “When do you think I can take the driving test?”

  Their mother got out of the car, dramatically exclaiming, “Gott in Himmel!” But Julia smiled because her mother’s voice held as much amusement as fear. Beth’s kids scrambled up to the front door, and Julia made her way around to the curb, tailing them all. Helen lingered with her, taking slow steps.

  “Helen, I’m so proud of you.” Julia used her good arm to pat her sister on the shoulder, but the movement caused her purse, which was dangling from her wrist, to open, spilling its contents on the glistening sidewalk.

  “Here, I’ll get it.” Helen bent to retrieve the items, lipstick, handkerchief, wallet, compact and…the ring. Helen picked it up, shooting a glance of surprise to her sister. Julia didn’t smile. In the afternoon sunlight, the ring looked even cheaper and gaudier. Helen’ gaze held a question.

  “Will finally got a ring,” Julia explained. “It’s too big, though.”

  Helen didn’t respond at first. She stood slowly, thinking about something. Was it her own engagement to Tom? If so, the dark mood passed quickly, replaced by the same calm determination she’d exhibited in the car, as if she were setting herself to a task that carried both risk and reward. She snapped Julia’s purse closed and handed the ring to her sister.

  “Even so, you should wear it. I’m sure Mutti has a chain,” she said in a pleasant, but firm voice. Julia opened her mouth to ask why Helen was now pressing her to wear an engagement ring when just the other night she’d urged her sister to give up Will if that’s what she really wanted. But Helen gave her no chance to talk. She took Julia by the elbow and called out to the others. “Julia has a happy surprise for you!” They didn’t hear, though, as they went in the house.

  Inside the front door, bedlam. The three boys pestered their mother for something to eat while Beth insisted they wash their hands and settle down. Mutti took off her scarf and coat, asking Helen if she had thought to get something for dinner. Helen told her she’d bought some chops and was going to make them.

  “But first, listen to Julia’s surprise,” Helen said. Her eyes crinkled into a smile. There was no malevolent jealousy there. But no sheer joy either. Something else.

  “What surprise?” Beth asked, breathless as she shooed Andy away.

  Before Julia could answer, Helen winked at her. “Show them!” And then she walked back to the kitchen to start dinner, her task accomplished.

  Julia opened her hand. The ring rested on her palm like a garish circus prize. She frowned.

  But Beth cooed. “My gosh, Jules, that’s wonderful! I was wondering when that fellow of yours was going to get a ring.” She gave Julia an affectionate hug, her large stomach bumping against Julia’s cane. “Well, put it on, for crying out loud!”

  “It’s too big. We have to have it resized.”

  “I just want you to try it on. You don’t need to wear it. Here, let me.” Beth took the ring from her hand and slipped it on Julia’s finger, pulling Julia’s hand out flat for them to admire.

  “That is some ring,” Beth said. “At least you’ll know you can always pawn it if you run into money trouble!”

  “Elisabeth!” their mother said, swatting Beth on the rear, another sign of good cheer. Helen’s driving, a good report from the doctor, now this ri
ng—they all seemed to be making Mutti “come back.” Julia should be grateful.

  “So when are you going to get it made smaller?” Beth asked. Before Julia could answer, however, Andrew ran up to his mother again and grabbed her legs. “Donny won’t let me go outside.” Beth turned her attention to the boy, taking his hand and heading to the back of the house. “Let’s go talk to him,” she said.

  That left Julia alone with her mother in the hallway. Mutti came over to her, slipped Julia’s scarf from her hair and helped her out of her raincoat as if she were still a little girl. As Julia pulled her hand through the coat sleeve, her fingers straightened, causing the ring to drop to the floor. Her mother retrieved it, looking it over, before handing it back to Julia.

  “What do you think?” Julia asked her in the quiet hall. In the background, they could hear Beth scolding Donny and Helen throwing chops into a sizzling hot pan.

  “It is a nice ring.”

  This was faint praise from a woman who usually liked glittering things.

  “Just nice?”

  Mutti shrugged and then smiled at her. “He is your boy, so whatever he gives you is nice.”

  “But really, do you think—” The doorbell buzzed behind them, and she stopped, her heart sinking to her stomach. Was Will stopping by to take her to the jeweler’s? She’d tell him she was too tired, even sick. She’d retreat to her bed for the night…

  Helen breezed back into the hallway, tying an apron around her waist. “My goodness, I didn’t think anyone was here to answer it,” she said, giving Julia and Mutti a look. Helen opened the door a crack, and they heard the low voice of a man.

  “Julia, it’s for you.” Helen opened the door all the way to reveal the tired figure of Detective Sean Reilly.

  Her mood, so blue a moment before, now lightened. She walked to the front door as her mother and Helen went back toward the kitchen.

  Sean stood, holding his hat at one side, staring at her cane. Her smile faded.

  “How can I help you?” she asked in the bright voice of a secretary, a good girl, a model patient.

  “May I look at your cane?” He nodded his head in its direction. When she went to hand it over, he stepped forward. “Here, lean on me.”

  She did as he requested, feeling the tight muscles of his strong arm through the thin suit jacket. He held the cane up to the light and turned it around and around.

  “Have you had any trouble with this, any need to replace it?”

  “Not since last year. They’re made to last. This one’s pretty scuffed, though. I should take better care of it.” She looked at the scratches and dirt around the tip. Really, this was embarrassing. Yet, still, she liked standing next to him, leaning against him.

  When he handed the cane back to her, she lost her balance as she shifted her weight from him to the cane. He caught her before she fell, and once again, she was in his arms, her head resting against his chest. She heard him take a trembling breath, then he pushed her away and stared in her eyes.

  “Do you know anything about a note to your buddy Susan? Did you write her one? Did someone else? A note that was upsetting?”

  Julia stepped back, now warm from a different emotion, anger. Silly Susan. Always blubbering about something. Now what?

  “I’m the one who should be upset,” she blurted out and told him how she’d learned Susan was after her job.

  “But you don’t remember a note,” Sean said, his brow creased and an odd look in his eye, a sadness.

  Julia sighed with impatience. “There are lots of notes, lots of things the doctors write, that we type for them. Notes to colleagues, to other labs, to drug manufacturers…”

  “Something different from that,” he snapped.

  She closed her eyes and wished she could tap her foot. There was only one note she could think of, something only slightly out of the ordinary. It had troubled her. And her reaction had troubled her. Oh God. As soon as she started telling him about it, she felt awful.

  “There was a personal letter Susan wrote to Dr. Lowenstein. It came back to the office when she wasn’t in so I put it in another envelope and sent it to her home.” She tried to sound businesslike, as if she’d only been doing the right thing. But it was obvious she’d known. A personal letter from Susan, always so goofy-eyed around Dr. Mike, sent to his home…

  “You don’t know what was in it?”

  “No.” But she had known, hadn’t she? She’d guessed. Or maybe she’d even hoped… Dear Lord, what was the matter with her, deliberately stirring up trouble. Was it because Susan was able-bodied? She felt the need to run but couldn’t. She felt…guilty.

  She was discovering something about herself, something spoiled and withered, just like her leg, and it felt as if polio had done this to her, another handicap. She felt like crying.

  “When did this happen?” he asked.

  “Around when Dr. Lowenstein died. I… I put the note in the mail to Susan some time around then….” And felt victorious doing it. She’d suspected what was in the note. She’d seen how Susan mooned around Dr. Lowenstein, how she’d looked like a lovesick puppy. She was married! She had two good legs and a husband and a home!

  “You didn’t think she’d be in the next day?”

  “I didn’t know. I was in a hurry, trying to take care of lots of things.” That part was true. She’d had a lot to do, and it had been easier to act on impulse than to think it through. She could have left the note for Susan on her desk.

  He asked her a few more questions about Susan, about Susan’s husband, but Julia was so tired by then, the weight of all her sins pushing her to a low spot, that even the detective could see he was wearing her out and would get no more valuable information from her. He left, and now she did retreat to her room, forgoing supper, curling up and falling asleep, wishing everyone would leave her alone and wishing, most of all, she could throw her blasted cane away.

  ***

  Stephen Schlager did something odd when Sal broke the news to him that his wife was in a hospital. His eyes welled. He was angry at Sal for delaying his departure to visit Susan. If he was acting, it was an award-winning performance.

  Schlager was so eager to leave, in fact, that he brushed past Sal on the steps muttering a curse in German and not bothering to shut his door tight.

  Damn, thought Sal, looking at him leave. Someone could go in and rob the fellow clean. Sal should make sure that wouldn’t happen. But he should check the back door, too, to be absolutely positive the house was locked up tight.

  He made his way into the now-dim, neat house and didn’t see much out of the ordinary until he came to the bedroom. He would have missed it, too, if he hadn’t remembered his partner telling him to always check the trash bins. There it was, a woman’s lavender stationery, a note folded in two and ripped into a dozen pieces. He gathered them all, did his duty by the locks and left.

  ***

  Brigitta had dinner for Sean when he arrived home, some Italian soup with lots of vegetables that set his mouth watering as soon as he crossed his threshold. Instead of making him feel welcome and happy, though, it only dragged him down more, reminding him again of what he missed with Mary and of his lack of strong feelings for Brigitta in that way.

  You can’t fool yourself or anyone else when you’re tired. And he was dead on his feet by then.

  The boys had come out to him and hugged him with no screeches of joy. It was hard getting used to someone new. They looked good, though, with clean faces, neatly combed hair, even spotless shirts and trousers. She’d kept them in their good clothes just so he would see them.

  “I didn’t know if the boys liked minestrone,” she said, ladling big portions for herself and Sean a few minutes later.

  “Did they eat much?” he asked, remembering how he’d told her to open canned soup for them and irritated that she’d overruled his command.

  “Oh, a little. It was something new, after all!” She smiled as if proud of this, but he saw no reason to be proud
of forcing children to eat what they didn’t like.

  She asked about his case, and he gave her perfunctory answers, refusing her offer of a whiskey before dinner or even wine with the meal. He knew that only weakened his resolve.

  After she was finished cleaning up, he told the boys to “hop on down to the car, we have to take Mrs. Lorenzo home now.” She raised her eyebrows at that but got her purse and sweater and trundled off after him.

  He walked her to her door after driving her home, but didn’t want to stay long because the boys were in the car. Just let me go home to what I know. The memory of Mary.

  “Did I do something wrong?” she asked, searching for her key.

  “No, nothing wrong. You’re a great sport, helping me out.”

  “You seem, oh, angry.” She found her key and prepared to unlock her apartment door.

  He was angry. At himself. “Naw, it’s just the case.” Not just the case. “And I feel bad asking you to help out with the boys like this. I’ll find somebody real soon.”

  She opened her door, smiling at him. “Don’t be silly, Sean. I have the time. You worry about your case first. When it’s all wrapped up, you can think about getting somebody for the boys.” She kissed him lightly on the cheek.

  ***

  She fell into bed exhausted. Looking after those boys had been more tiring than any of her office jobs. She’d had to constantly clean up after them, making them change twice before Sean came home so they’d be in spotless outfits when he arrived. She’d finally told them they had to play on the rug in their room and nowhere else until their father returned. That had worked.

  Then there had been the boredom as well, sitting and listening to them prattle about things she had no interest in—that is, when she could understand them. Danny—had it been Danny?—mispronounced quite a few words and had trouble remembering others. At least he had talked to her. Robby had been so silent she’d thought he was mad at her half the time.

  She rested for the briefest moment before getting up and changing into cleaner clothes. Then she sat at her tiny kitchenette table, leafing through a magazine, searching for the article she’d remembered while at Sean’s house. Here it was: The Rules All Good Wives Know. She nodded her head as she read through each one, pleased that she’d followed some already.