A Moment Forever

by Cat Gardiner

  Lizzy closed her eyes in revolt when he kissed her fingers, and if not for the thought that he would have misconstrued her meaning as one of sublime rapture, she promptly snapped them open, realizing what he was saying. She gagged. “No. I’m sorry, Mr. Gebhardt, but my answer is no.” She gagged again.

  “Elizabeth!” Her father reprimanded. “Your answer is yes!”

  Clutching her hand tighter, almost constricting, causing her pain. “It is my wish,” Gebhardt insisted, his voice dropping a menacing octave.

  “Be that as it may, it is not my wish. My answer is no. I do not love you!” She wrenched her hand from his grasp.

  “Love is inconsequential! It is your duty!” He rose, violently agitated and turned to Renner, raising his voice. “You assured me, Renner!”

  Her father came to stand before her as she looked down at her hands, once again, tightly clasped together, a tear dropping as she had never felt so alone in that moment. Miraculously, in that moment, the image of Will’s smile played before her mind’s eye, comforting her.

  Renner clasped both his hands upon her shoulders and shook, loosening the flower in her hair. “Look at me, you insolent child! You will marry him!”

  It was then that the bile rose in her throat, the burning feeling of ascending vomit ready to be purged from her like the affluent debutante she had been groomed to be. Her right hand flew to her mouth and she suddenly stood, knocking her stout father backward. His protestations went unheard. Gebhardt’s frustrated anger went ignored. All she heard was the slamming of a book upon the mahogany desk as her left hand grabbed the fabric of her skirt and her hasty feet ran for the study door to avoid retching upon the antique Persian rug.

  Lizzy navigated through the crowd assembled in the hall outside the ballroom quickly reaching the door of the lavatory, not a moment too soon. Heavy retches into the commode spasmed her body as it bent forward. Her hand clutched her abdomen with each agonizing heave until the floating foie gras disgustingly stared back at her. She lurched again, her muscles contracting. All she wished for at that moment was Will’s support and comfort, for him to be there with her, to hold her head and stroke her back with his strong, warm hands.

  Ashen, sweating, and dry heaving, she hadn’t yet felt this ill in her morning sickness. The small bathroom was stifling and now, quite rank. Desperate for relief, the cold snap of winter air was all she could think of when she finally exited back into the hallway where the fast tempo of Latin music riddled the air from the festivities just across the way. With lipstick in place, eyes dabbed dry, and her posture seemingly unaffected, she was determined to leave the house with this night behind her. Her eyes focused on the end of the hall, ignoring all the merrymakers between her and her escape route.

  “Lizzy, are you okay?” John asked when she squeezed passed by the ballroom doors where he stood at the threshold with Ingrid, her visage, a haughty combination of disdain and unconcern. She tugged at John’s tuxedo sleeve.

  Determined to escape Meercrest without a scene, Lizzy tried to dismiss him. “I’m fine, Johnny. Please, excuse me.”

  “No, wait. What is it? You’ve been crying and you look ill. Can I help you?”

  “Please. No. Just leave me be.” She looked over her shoulder to see if she was followed by Gebhardt or her father. “I have to …” Her eyes began welling with tears again, as she hurriedly attempted to leave, but the assembly was crushing.

  “John, leave her!” Ingrid snapped, pulling him back into the ballroom as his eyes followed after Lizzy pushing her way through the crowd.

  “Stop, Ingrid!” He tugged his arm from her grasp. “Something’s terribly wrong with your sister.”

  “No, you stop. This is our night. My night, and she will not steal it from me.”

  John shook his head disbelieving her utter disregard for anyone other than herself. “You can’t be serious? Something is upsetting Lizzy and all you care about is yourself. Fine, have your night, but you’ll have it alone. I won’t turn my back on her, especially if she’s ill.”

  “She’s probably caught something vile from that Judensau.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Ingrid’s fingers gripped his bicep, and she leaned into him, speaking through grit teeth. “She’s a pig, an insignificant Jew-lover, and I will not have her get in the way of our announcement.”

  John scowled. “I hardly know who you’ve become, Ingrid.” Disgusted, he removed her hand from his person. “There is no announcement. You can keep your million-dollar dowry. Find another stooge to marry.”

  She looked shell shocked as he ran after Lizzy, leaving her standing alone at the threshold of the ballroom with the band aptly playing, “Perfidia” in the background.

  Mr. Howard stood at the public entrance door, ignoring the blackout restrictions by opening it wide for Lizzy as she bolted through without a coat, the train of her gown whooshing and trailing behind her.

  John quickly grabbed any coat from the cloakroom and followed her into the midnight, freezing air. She stood in the forecourt behind the barren Japanese fountain, breathing deeply as tears fell unchecked down her cheeks, her arms crossing round, holding her waist.

  He came up behind her covering her shoulders with a man’s woolen topcoat. “Lizzy, what is it? Talk to me.”

  She turned her body into him, allowing the sobs to fall upon his shoulder. He wrapped her within his arms and rubbed her back. “It’s okay. Everything will be okay. I’m here when you need to talk.”

  John had never seen Lizzy cry so, and it pained him to witness her so distraught. Over what, he had no clue, but their friendship was such that no matter what it was, he would help her. In typical Lizzy fashion, she lifted her head and forced a smile.

  “Lizzy?”

  She nodded resolutely and wiped her face with her gloved hand, her warm breath puffing into cold air when she spoke. “Don’t worry about me, Johnny. Tonight’s a special night for you; don’t let me ruin it.”

  He buzzed pursed lips in mocking disregard. “We need to talk.”

  “Yes … we do.”

  He was surprised when she thread her fingers with his and led him around the mansion, past the tea gazebo and down the darkened pathway, which led toward the now silent waterfall. “Where are you taking me?”

  Below the top coat, her free hand gripped at her skirt, attempting to keep it from tearing or becoming soiled. “Sshh.”

  Their hands remained clasped as they neared the entrance of the grotto that was usually hidden behind falling water from spring to autumn. It was a place where they had played together as children and whenever Lizzy needed to escape, it was to either here or the water tower with a book. No one, most of all Ingrid, would dare enter the dark cave, but Lizzy had that daring nature about her and in her thirteenth year had requested of Mr. Abernathy, the groundskeeper, to make her a wooden bench and table for within.

  They entered into the silent, eerie space. It had been years since he’d been there. A teacup and several stacked books sat upon the table. They were most likely moldy, discolored from the cave’s moisture, exposure to dirt and to the elements. John held onto Lizzy’s waist tightly so that she wouldn’t slip on the stone.

  “Gosh, it’s been five or six years since I’ve been in here,” he said, thankful for the fragrance of her perfume trailing her, covering the dank smell of the cave.

  “I think it’s been a year since I’ve been in here, too, but I need to talk with you in private and I don’t want anyone to overhear what I have to say.” She moaned. “Oh G-d, this has been one of the worst days of my life.”

  Lizzy sat on the bench, her skirt bunching around her. She removed the flower from her hair and stared down at it as John sat beside her.

  “How can I help make it better, Lizzy?”

  “You can’t. All you can do is listen to me and be a comfort to me because with Will not here … I feel so alone.” Her eyes filled with tears and her voice cracked. “So … terribly alone.” She b
rought the flower to her lips.

  “Tell me.”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  John tried to keep a passive face, but it was difficult. Shocked by her admission, he barely whispered, “Pregnant? Goodness. Does William know?”

  She shook her head. “I only found out today and the doctor will have confirmation on Tuesday when I telephone. Oh, Johnny, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where to turn. What if he doesn’t survive the war?” Lizzy’s hand flew to her eyes and she wept. His only thought was to comfort her, giving her his shoulder his arm came around her shoulders, bringing her body closer to his for support.

  Long minutes of gentle weeping within the cavernous space echoed upon the stone until she stifled herself, sniffling through her voiced concerns. “There’s more, so much more … I cannot have his baby here at Meercrest and I cannot leave here either. Kitty needs me and my protection, but this baby needs the same. I’m damned if I do and I’m damned if I don’t!”

  He furrowed his brow. “Protection? Why does Kitty need protection? I mean, I understand not wanting to be an unwed mother and the censure that would be brought upon you and your baby but staying at Meercrest until Will’s return would be foolhardy. The baby would be considered, well um … a bastard and your reputation ruined. You have to leave, go to your aunt in New Jersey.”

  “I can’t leave Kitty. It’s Ingrid … threats she’s made, attempts to hurt her … I found propaganda about euthanasia and sterilization of the unfit and disabled in her room.”

  John blanched, his heart nearly seizing. The woman he considered marrying had indeed become indoctrinated to Nazism’s truest ideology. No wonder he hardly knew her this past year. “You’re sure about the literature?”

  Their eyes locked and he could see the fear in hers. His heart broke when Lizzy said, “Yes, I’m sure of what I read. She—and Father—are virulent anti-Semites, and they both know that Will is Jewish. Our baby is half Jewish, Johnny. I cannot raise it anywhere near here.”

  “Good Lord, Lizzy. I had no idea that Ingrid’s opinions had grown to such zealous hatred until I heard her voice ugly words tonight. Suspected her leanings, yes, but I had not confirmed it—not until you ran past us. Does your fella know about Ingrid?”

  “Yes, and he thinks Father is a Nazi collaborator, although I disagree about that, even though Gebhardt certainly conveyed his own sympathies tonight when he proposed.”

  John paused, his mind whirling from all this information. His breath grew short and he forcibly calmed himself to keep from having to light an asthma cigarette. Finally, he ran his hand through his sandy blond hair. “Lizzy, William may be right.”

  “I can’t think of that right now. I said no to Gebhardt, and both Father and he became very angry.”

  “And that was why you fled?”

  “Yes, I could never marry him. I also became ill. I’ve been very sick.”

  “Would you not consider marrying him if it meant giving the baby a home, a name?”

  She gasped, and he regretted the words as soon as they had come out of his mouth. He saw the truth of it, she couldn’t marry that creep especially given the fact that she knew where his sympathies lay.

  “I’m sorry. Of course you can’t marry him.” His hand brushed against her head as it continued to rest upon his shoulder. “Has William professed his intentions to marry you when he returns? I mean … he didn’t take advantage of you, did he?”

  Lizzy’s head snapped up to look at him in the dark. “G-d no, Johnny! It was mutual. We love one another deeply, and we spoke of the future together, leaving Long Island and maybe moving to Brooklyn. He didn’t officially ask but he gave me his heart when I was in Florida.” She looked away, biting her lip to keep it from trembling, inadvertently drawing blood. “He gave me this baby … unintentionally, but it is his love.”

  “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to imply him so dishonorable to get a girl knocked up before he left for Europe. What I really mean to ask is … do you think he’ll be happy … about the baby … that is?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’ll only have a small window to find out until I begin to show and then any decision will be too late.”

  “Then write to Will and see what he advises. Maybe you can fly to England and get hitched in London or something. I could see about getting you on a supply flight along the South Atlantic Air Ferry Route. Your flyer will tell you what to do or if that’s even possible.”

  “I don’t know if he’s left for England yet. I haven’t received a letter in a week or so.”

  A deafening silence settled between the long-time friends, until before he knew what he was about, he turned to face her, taking her hands in his, fingers brushing upon the flower she still held. She looked so beautiful, so innocent and all he wanted to do was to protect her if her sweetheart couldn’t. “Lizzy … I … I obviously don’t know your fella like you do, but if he’s not happy about the baby, or if he doesn’t have the answers or worse … if something happens to him, will you consider me as a last resort?”

  “What do you mean?”

  His heart pounded thunderously, but he had never felt more sure about anything in his life. “Marry me, Lizzy. I’ll raise the baby as if it’s my own. I’ll protect it and you and take Kitty to live with us at Evermore or send her for the therapy she really needs, maybe inquiring about that nurse who treats the President. It would be my honor to do this.”

  “But what about Ingrid? You love her … you’ve loved her since we were children.”

  “I loved the kind and generous Ingrid, the girl who loved her sisters, the sweet girl who visited old Mrs. Pratt up at Killenworth house when she was ailing. That’s the Ingrid I fell in love with, not the cold calculating woman she became and certainly not the prejudiced ideologue we both believe her to be.”

  “I wanted to tell you about Ingrid, truly I did, but Lillian cautioned me not to. I thought you loved her, wanting to marry her, and I didn’t want to hurt you. In the end, I fear I hurt you more by not telling you about that heart of stone of hers.”

  “I don’t love Ingrid, and I could no more marry her than I could turn my back on you. I’m at fault for not listening to my gut feeling sooner.”

  “Does she know this? She’s expecting to announce your engagement tonight.”

  John snickered. “I just told her. Look, if you’ll have me—you would be doing me as much a favor as I you. Life with Ingrid would be a half-life and remaining a bachelor in my family home would be worse. Father will never see me as the man I am. You’re the only one who knows of my health issues, and now I’m the only one who knows of yours.”

  “Kitty knows about the baby. She suggested that I marry Gebhardt as well.”

  “So between the three of us, we can protect each other. Will you consider it? Will you consider marrying me … becoming Mrs. John Robertsen and raising William’s baby as a Robertsen?”

  Tears streamed down Lizzy’s face, and he knew she would consider it.

  “I’ll deal with Ingrid when the time is right. Until then, write to your flyer and see what he wants you to do. Do we have a deal that if all else fails, you’ll consider my offer?”

  Lizzy nodded. “I will consider it, but only as a last resort. Not that I don’t care for you, but you understand—I could never love another like I do Will. It would be very hard for me to marry anyone other than him.”

  “I understand. I’d expect no less from that passionate heart of yours. In the interim remain optimistic and hope for your heart’s desire.”

  “Thank you but are you sure this is what you truly want. I don’t want you to do this out of misguided loyalty to me as your friend.”

  “There is nothing misguided about my friendship with you. I love you, but not like that … not like you love William, but I love you enough to protect you and your baby. For the service your fella gives to our nation, it would be an honor.”

  “And you wouldn’t care that his child is Jewish?”

&
nbsp; “Why would I care about that? The babe that you carry is an innocent child of G-d.”

  “Thank you. Thank you so much, Johnny.”

  They hugged and she held onto him tightly for a long time, both lost in their thoughts, her tears flowing upon his shoulder. Ducky will tell me what to do. The war will end soon.

  ~~*~~

  Thirty-One

  That’s Sabotage

  January 25, 1943

  With every straining, circling push, the wheelchair groaned and clicked against the inlaid wood floor as Kitty made her way toward the main entrance hall of Meercrest.

  Squeak, squeak, squeak was the only sound within the empty corridor. The annoying din from the chair’s wheels reverberated against the marble pillars, seeming to grow louder with her every pounding heartbeat.

  She halted her progress when she heard the melodious voice of her most beloved sister enter the foyer around the corner. As tired and sick as Lizzy had been with unceasing morning sickness, Kitty knew she was doing her best to convey the normal effervescence her family expected. Her voice pierced the chilly winter air of the wide hallways, breaking through the stone cold silence with her warm spirit.

  “I’ll be right there,” she called out as she walked past the silver mail tray, obviously looking to see if Mr. Murphy had come and gone.

  Kitty bent forward and peeked her head around the pillar, watching Lizzy examine her image in the long, pier mirror. She smoothed her skirt and, turning from side to side, looked at her figure in the reflection. Her usual radiance had grown wane. Peaked and drawn, she pinched her cheeks, hoping to add a rosiness to what others assumed was winter pallor. Although fear plagued her sister’s heart, Kitty knew that optimism and deep love for Ducky was her sustenance. Yes, she would do whatever she could to protect Lizzy and his baby.

  As quickly as her sister had burst on the scene in hopefulness, she was gone again.

  Kitty had to act fast; well, as fast as the debilitating confines of leg braces and the wood and metal chair would allow. Midway through the foyer, her blonde head stole a furtive glance over a shoulder then up and above the tall wicker back of her prison. She cautiously looked around for any further interruptions to the crime about to unfold. It’s not as though her arrival at the mail twice daily was unusual, but the act she was about to commit was. An act she abhorred doing, but one that was necessary.