“James!” she shouted. “The herbs worked! The mugwort and pennyroyal—they worked!”
Edith jumped up from the toilet and darted over to the dresser opposite the bathtub. She dug through the top drawer, sifting through piles of cotton, linen, and silk undergarments. After several minutes, she finally found the object she had been seeking hidden at the drawer’s bottom—her rarely used sanitary belt. She held it up to the light filtering through the colorful stained glass window. Along with those bright rays of morning sun, hope flooded the room as well.
Thirty-Three
JANOS
BEAVER CREEK, OCTOBER 3, 1917
Janos shoved another fork full of devil’s food cake into his mouth as he gazed across the dining room table at Concetta. A low moan escaped his lips as he savored the rich, chocolatey dessert. It was the most heavenly chocolate cake he had ever tasted, but he was distracted by a hint of another ingredient, something oddly familiar. “Coffee?” he asked aloud, his mouth still full.
“I wondered whether you’d figure it out. Is it too strong?” Concetta asked.
“Not at all,” Janos said, licking some frosting from his lips.
“Where did you find such a recipe?” Anna asked.
Concetta giggled. “It was an accident. I spilled my coffee while I was making the frosting. Almost half my cup went into the mixing bowl. I couldn’t possibly throw it out and waste all that sugar.” She shook her head.
“Of course not,” Anna said. “But it’s delicious.”
“Thank you.”
Janos admired his business partner as she broke into a wide grin. She looked elegant in her navy blue dress and pearl earrings. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, revealing her long neck and pretty olive skin. He wondered why he hadn’t noticed her beauty until recently.
“Papa, did you hear what I said?”
“What’s that, Sofie?” Janos turned toward his daughter, who was seated opposite Concetta. She was staring at him, her eyes narrowed.
“I ran into Mr. Berman today. He said his boss can meet with you next week to discuss the loan.”
“What loan?” Anna tilted her head.
Concetta looked up from her dessert plate.
Janos suddenly wished he hadn’t dropped by the bank the previous week to inquire about obtaining a loan to buy Concetta’s share of the store. After dinner at Luigi’s the previous Friday, thoughts of her had been filling his head, not all of them innocent. He was ashamed of imagining Concetta might be something more than a business partner to him, but he was certain he had felt something akin to a spark during their candlelit dinner. He now dreaded the thought of her moving to Philadelphia.
“Janos?” Anna tapped his arm. “Why do you need a loan?”
His throat closing, he took a sip of tea. “I merely wanted to inquire about a loan to buy Concetta’s half of the store.” He avoided her gaze out of fear his eyes might betray him. “She’s thinking of moving to Philadelphia to be near Tony.”
“Oh,” Sofie said, a smile creeping across her face. “You must miss him terribly.”
“I do.” Concetta nodded. “But he and Lucia have settled into their new home and seem quite happy with it.” She hesitated and put down her fork. “I received news this afternoon that they’re expecting their first child. I’m going to be a nonna.” Concetta beamed.
“Congratulations! You must be so excited,” Anna said.
“A grandchild. I’m so happy for you,” Janos said, trying to sound cheerful while digesting the bittersweet news. With a grandbaby on the way, there would be little chance of Concetta staying in Beaver Creek. “I’ll be sure to meet with the loan officer right away. You’ll want to be in Philadelphia as soon as possible.”
Concetta pursed her lips. “I still need time to think about this. I’m not comfortable with you taking such a huge financial risk for me, Janos.”
“Maybe you could sell your share of the store to someone else,” Sofie suggested. “Perhaps that Jewish man who owns the hardware store might be interested.”
Janos wished he could elbow his daughter, but she was too far away. Why was she encouraging this move? “Please clear the table, Sofie,” he said, hoping to expel her from the conversation.
Concetta stood up. “I’ve had a lovely evening, but I really must get home. Thank you, Anna and Sofie, for preparing such a wonderful dinner. The chicken was delicious.”
“And thank you for bringing the cake.” Anna got up from her chair and bent to kiss the petite woman on the cheek. “I’ll have to try baking with coffee, but it’s so expensive right now.”
“Everything’s expensive with this damn war,” Sofie muttered as she stacked plates. Catching her father’s glare, she quickly said, “Sorry about the cursing, Mrs. Moretti.”
“I’ll grab my coat and walk you home, Concetta.”
“No, no, Janos. Sit back down and finish your tea. The walk’s not far.”
Disappointed, Janos sat down and watched Anna escort Concetta to the front door. He had been a fool for fantasizing about her the last few days. Her heart was in Philadelphia with her son. And the pull of a grandchild was a force with which Janos could not compete. He rested his head on his hand and sighed.
“You and Concetta have been spending a lot of time together lately,” Anna said when she returned to the dining room. “Why would you want to get a loan to help her move?”
“I take it you don’t approve.”
“I think a loan would be better spent on purchasing this house. We’ve been renting for far too long.”
“That’s true, I suppose.” Janos felt a sharp twinge of guilt.
“Helping Mrs. Moretti move to Philadelphia is the right thing to do,” Sofie said as she returned from the kitchen with a cleaning rag. “She should be near her family.”
Janos eyed his daughter. “What do you have against Concetta?”
“Nothing. Wouldn’t you long to be near me if I moved away?”
Janos took another sip of tea as he stared at the blue butterflies on the green and white floral wallpaper Anna loved so much. It was a distracting pattern, but something he had grown accustomed to. He wondered if he could ever become accustomed to a life without his children. Would he be content traveling across the state to visit them only a few times a year? Probably not. But then again, he only saw Lukas a handful of times during the school year.
“Forgive me for saying this …” Anna said hesitantly. “But I think Sofie might be a little jealous of the time you’ve been spending with Concetta. Since Tony moved away, you’ve been at the store almost twice as much.”
“Is that true, Sofie?” Janos asked.
She sank into the chair beside Anna, but would not meet her father’s gaze. “You spend more time with her than your own family. And I’ve seen the way you look at her.”
“Sofie!” Anna scolded her niece.
Janos patted his sister’s hand. “It’s fine. I admit that I have been spending more time with Concetta lately. I’m sorry if you feel neglected, Sofie.” He suddenly understood why his daughter had acted so strangely at the store the previous week and had turned down Concetta’s offer of biscotti.
“Sofie, someday your father may meet a special woman and want to remarry. You would be happy for him, wouldn’t you?” Anna asked in a softer tone.
Janos felt his face flush. “This is not an appropriate conversation to be having with my seventeen-year-old daughter.”
“I don’t see why not. I think it’s certainly something you can discuss with your older sister, at the very least.”
“Please, Anna. Not now.” Janos wanted to crawl under the table.
“I will not belabor the point, but it is time you moved on. If not with Concetta, then perhaps with someone else.” Anna crossed her arms.
Sofie was suddenly leaning forward, looking as if she wanted to be part of the conversation. Janos glanced at the sideboard and wondered if it would be an inappropriate time to pour himself a glass of whiskey.
“Papa, can we talk? It’s about Mama.”
Janos flinched. They hadn’t spoken of Karina in years. Why would Sofie want to unearth a painful memory long buried? He grasped his tea cup. “What about her?” he said more harshly than he intended.
“We never talk about her disappearance … about what may have happened to her,” Sofie said solemnly.
Janos’s heart ached for his little girl—for the motherless child who had managed an almost believable facade of bravery in the years after her mother’s disappearance and her brother’s horrific accident. She had been so strong and supportive when he’d come apart after seeing Lukas lying, almost lifeless, in a hospital bed. And then only hours later, he had learned of his wife’s unexpected departure from their lives. It was an excruciatingly painful time in his life, one he seldom revisited in his thoughts. Why bring it up now, Sofie?
Janos exchanged a worried glance with his sister. “What would you like to discuss? I’m not sure there’s much left to be said.”
“I’ve been thinking about Mama a lot lately. I guess it’s because I met a boy at the dance who recently lost his mother. It made me think of my own loss. I’m not sure why, but now I want to know why Mama left.”
“I think this is a conversation the two of you need to have in private,” Anna said. “I’m going to bed.”
“You can stay, Aunt Anna,” Sofie said. “Maybe you have something to add.”
Janos watched his sister lean over to kiss Sofie on the forehead. “Good night, sweet girl,” she said as she got up from the table.
As soon as Anna was gone from the room, Janos took a deep breath in preparation for the uncomfortable discussion that lay ahead. “Judging by the word you used, I assume you believe your mother left intentionally. You no longer think her disappearance was the result of an accident? You don’t believe she was taken against her will?”
Sofie looked down at the cleaning rag in her hand. “Deep down, I’ve always believed Mama left on her own. I spent a lot of years trying to convince myself otherwise, but I never quite managed it. The only reason I still use the word “disappearance” is to avoid hurting you or embarrassing you—all of us for that matter. Why would I ever want to admit that my mother abandoned me?”
A tear escaped down Sofie’s cheek. Janos got up and moved to the empty chair beside her. He put his arm around her and pulled her into his chest.
Sofie rested quietly against her father’s chest not more than a minute before looking up. “That’s all I have for her, Papa. Just that one tear. I’m done crying for her.” She sat up and pushed her hair away from her face. “You know, I used to cry myself to sleep at night in the months after Mama left. I was sleeping with Aunt Anna at the time, and she always told me how sorry she was that I lost my mother. But looking back on it now, I don’t think I was crying for Mama. I was crying for you and all the pain she caused you. And for poor Lukas and the leg he lost.”
“And for Pole. For the best friend you lost.” Janos reached for his daughter’s hand and squeezed it. He hoped he hadn’t been too bold.
The dam broke. Sofie was a river of tears.
“I’m so sorry. We lost so much that summer, didn’t we?” Janos rubbed his daughter’s back as she buried her face in her hands. He immediately regretted mentioning Pole. He knew how much Sofie had cared about him, but perhaps there was more to the story than he realized.
After a moment of awkward silence, Sofie wiped her eyes and turned to face her father. “Do you remember when the police came to the house that first night Lukas was in the hospital?”
Janos recalled that evening quite well even though he had been reeling from the prospect of losing his son and worrying about the whereabouts of his wife. He had been out of his mind with grief and shock, but resolute in a single purpose. “Unfortunately, I remember that evening like it was yesterday.” Janos trembled.
“They wanted to question Mama—to see if she knew anything about Henry Archer’s murder.”
“But your mother was gone.”
“We hadn’t seen her since the night before.” Sofie shook her head. “And you told me not to tell anyone what Lukas saw at the train station that morning. Remember?”
Janos nodded. He would never forget the panic he had felt soon after Anna had rushed home with news of a murder in Mr. Archer’s wealthy neighborhood. He and Sofie had just returned from the hospital and still had no idea where Karina was. She did not know that her son was missing half of his leg and clinging precariously to life. When Sofie had explained shortly after the accident that morning that Lukas was chasing the train because he believed his mother was on it, Janos and Anna had dismissed the notion as nonsense. But once they heard about the murder in Riverton Heights, an incomprehensible suspicion crept in. Had Karina been on the train Lukas was chasing? Had she been escaping the scene of a crime? Regardless of the truth, Janos and Anna knew they needed to cast suspicion away from Karina.
That feat hadn’t been terribly difficult. Once the police informed Janos and Anna that Henry Archer was the murder victim, Janos quickly produced a plausible theory. He suggested that whoever was responsible for the mill manager’s death must also be responsible for Karina’s disappearance. She must have witnessed the crime and suffered a similar fate. When one of the detectives raised an eyebrow, Janos asked how his petite wife could overpower a man like Mr. Archer. He outweighed her by almost a hundred pounds. Besides, such a gruesome act would be grossly out of character for a loving wife and mother. The detectives seemed satisfied with Janos’s theory.
“I never understood why you protected her. Aunt Anna, too,” Sofie continued. “Did you know that a few days later, when Mama still hadn’t turned up, Aunt Anna convinced me that Henry Archer’s murderer must have taken Mama. She said that was the only logical explanation for her disappearance—other than an accident.”
“Did you believe her?”
“For a little while. I was comforted by the idea that Mama was taken from us. The alternative was too heartbreaking.” Sofie lowered her head. “When Lukas came home from the hospital, Aunt Anna persuaded him to believe her theory, too. She told him to never tell anyone he thought Mama was on that train.”
Janos had to give his sister credit. She loved his children as if they were her own. She would tell any lie to protect them. “You’re practically a grown woman, Sofie. What do you believe now?”
She closed her eyes and exhaled. “I believe Mama was making plans to leave us weeks before she escaped on that train. Her behavior was so odd. She suddenly took an interest in all of us and was loving and kind. I thought it was unusual at the time, but I hoped she’d made the decision to be a better mother.”
Janos put a hand to his mouth, attempting to bridle his escaping gasp. He had, at times, suspected that Sofie shared his theory, but had dared not ask. He assumed his daughter must have reached her conclusion slowly, over the course of several years, in the midst of growing up and opening her eyes to the follies of human nature. As for Janos, he’d grasped the truth within hours of learning of Henry Archer’s murder. Karina had been acting strange in the weeks leading up to that fateful Saturday morning, declaring her love for him and the children and apologizing for her past transgressions. The last evening the family spent together reading from The Wizard of Oz was her final goodbye. And the way Karina made love to him that evening … it was unforgettable.
Janos shook his head, trying to erase the painful images. “I had hoped the same thing, but unfortunately, we were wrong. I think your mother made plans to leave town well in advance of that horrible day. I just don’t know what her involvement was in Archer’s death. Your mother was a troubled woman, but I don’t believe she was a murderer.”
“She was cruel enough to abandon her husband and children. How do you know what she was capable of?”
Janos looked down at his hands, their powerlessness so apparent. He had failed to see the approaching storm Karina had conjured and failed to protect his children fro
m its wake. He had been under his wife’s spell for far too long and had been blind to her true nature. He’d only wanted to see the very best in Karina, even when it was buried deep, under multiple layers of anger and sadness. He didn’t board that train, destined for some distant place far from reality, but he was culpable all the same. Janos buried his head in his hands and wept.
“Papa, look at me. Please look at me.” Sofie was next to him, her arm wrapped around his shoulder. He had no idea how long he’d been sobbing. He had suppressed his grief for so long, it finally broke free, spewing out of him wildly, uncontrollably. He was embarrassed to break down in front of his daughter, but relieved to be free of his heavy burden.
“You’re not to blame, Papa. No one could have predicted what happened. All we ever wanted was to be loved by her. We were so desperate for her affection that we couldn’t see what was happening—what she was planning. I understand that now. The only person at fault is Mama.”
Janos looked up at his daughter. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, but her face was surprisingly serene.
“None of it matters anymore,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t care why Mama left. I don’t want to wonder about her intentions. It makes no difference.”
Janos gazed deep into his daughter’s blue eyes, so clear and unflinching. “Why is that, sweetheart?”
“Because we’re better off without her.”
Janos was breathless. The truth had knocked the wind out of him. He had often said those very same words to himself over the years and always felt guilty afterward. But there was no denying it. Since he had moved his family to Beaver Creek seven years earlier, they’d been happier than ever before. Shouldering the weight of Karina’s dreariness had been exhausting for every one of them. They hadn’t realized how taxing the responsibility was until they’d been relieved of it. Janos, especially.
Beneath the Veil of Smoke and Ash Page 19