1929 (27 page)

“You know, today is Friday,” she said and
grinned deviously.

“It is,” Ava said. “I think I’ll take the
trolley there today and make my appearance.”

“Be careful. Unless you don’t want to go
alone.”

“No, I wouldn't mind, but you’re still sick,
and this won’t take long. I’ll just show up, introduce myself and
tell her she needs to stop approaching Jonathan. I’m sure that will
put a stop to it. Any decent woman wouldn’t continue to pursue a
man after being confronted by his wife.”

“I wouldn’t count on her being a decent
woman,” Arianna said with a snort.

“Oh! I have no idea what she looks like. How
will I know her?” Ava asked, suddenly worried.

“She has blond hair and blue eyes, full lips
and a round face that’s more cute than beautiful. She’s very tall,
almost as tall as me. And she has really big . . .” She put her
hands up to her chest and grabbed her breasts.

“Lovely,” Ava commented under her breath and
rolled her eyes.

“You sure you want to do this alone? Claire
and I would be happy to come.” Arianna raised her eyebrows,
hopeful. Ava shook her head.

“This is mine to do. Thank you, but I’m not
going to burden you or Claire.” She hurried home to get ready to
catch the trolley that would put her at the park just before three
o’clock.

∞∞∞

Ava found the fountain in the center of the
park easily enough. A beautiful, marble bowl’s edge held four
cherubs with harps that faced inward. The water to the center spray
and the cherubs long since had been shut off for the winter. A
gravel path dusted with snow encircled it. A few pair of snuggling
lovers strolled along it despite the cold. Park benches built
intermittently around the path faced the fountain and shrubbery
hugged the backs of the benches all around, which provided a
protective barrier from the wind. The manicured shrubbery broke at
the north and south of the circle for entrance and exit.

Ava sat on a bench with her back facing west
in order to view both entrances. She sat, nervously fidgeting with
her gloves, bouncing her crossed leg, and still unsure of how much
she intended to say to this woman. Her heart racing, she wasn’t
sure whether she was more nervous because this woman was from
Jonathan’s past or because of whom Ruth was married to. She toyed
with the idea of abandoning her plan but resolved to do what she
must to keep Jonathan; what was left of him anyway.

At three o’clock, a tall blonde in an
earth-colored fur coat entered the circle with a white poodle on a
leash trotting ahead of her. Just as Arianna remembered, she had
striking blue eyes, a cute face with pouting lips and the longest
legs Ava had ever seen. Her own self-image took a vicious beating
as she looked her over bottom to top and then suffered a final blow
as she saw her undeniably substantial and perfect breasts. She
hadn't bundled up like the other park walkers. She let her fur coat
and dress top hang open; as a result, both her cleavage and legs
could be seen from a mile away. Ava watched her glance around the
park in anticipation, her eyes only briefly rolling over Ava and
then continuing around the circle. She closed her coat with a flash
of disappointment on her face, shivered and continued on with her
dog. Ava's heart was beating in her ears when she stood and walked
up close behind Ruth. She took a deep breath.

“Excuse me,” she said with a shaky voice.

“Yes?” Ruth turned around, smiling.

“Are you Ruth?” Ava asked, shoving her hands
in her pockets nervously.

“Yes. Who are you, dear?” Ruth asked sweetly.
“Should I know you?” Ava straightened her posture and met Ruth’s
eyes.

“You should. My name is Ava,” she said with
the slightest hint of anger in her voice. “Ava Garrett,” she
clarified and Ruth’s eyes widened slightly. Her angelic smile
faded.

“So, you’re the one,” she said under her
breath.

“I’m here to talk to you about approaching
Jonathan. It needs to stop. He’s my husband, you have no place
tracking him down or talking to him,” she tried to sound
authoritative, but her slightly faltering voice undermined the
attempt.

“I think you underestimate me. And the
lengths that I will go to. Not that I expect I’ll have to.”

“He is my husband. And you will leave him
alone. He doesn’t want anything to do with you.” Ava pulled off the
commanding tone now that she was fully angry at Ruth’s
arrogance.

“But he does want what I have, and he will
realize that sooner or later. I can offer him money, security, and
a return to dignified living. He’ll only be able to resist that for
so long.”

“He won’t leave me. He loves me.”

Ruth looked at her with pity. “He felt sorry
for you, Ava. Isn’t that what you wanted? You played quite the
victim that night from what I hear. Taunting and teasing Victor,
and then playing coy. And after tempting him to madness, you ran
away with Jonathan. He always did have a soft heart for pitiful
creatures. He was always bringing home stray dogs when we were
together. And much in the same way, he picked you up, brushed you
off, found himself in too deep before even he knew what happened
and then couldn’t find a way to end it with you.”

“He found a way to end it with you easily
enough.”

“Enjoy him while you can,” Ruth warned.
“Luring him away from that filthy, rundown dump will be easier than
luring a drunk to wine,” she said. “I’ll bide my time, Ava. I’m
very patient. He will eventually get sick of the life he thinks he
has to live, and I will be right here waiting when he realizes that
it doesn’t have to be this way.”

Ava glared at her, mulling over her possible
responses. She was surprised as she watched Ruth’s face transform
from a smug smile with mean eyes to a look of slight shock as she
caught sight of something over Ava’s shoulder. The slightest hint
of fear flickered in her eyes.

Ava turned to see Arianna sauntering up in
typical fashion with her head down and her eyes fixed on her prey.
Claire fell out from behind her, as they walked the last few steps
and stopped on each side of Ava. Then Ava turned and smiled at Ruth
with pity.

“Ruth,” Arianna greeted. “How completely
unpleasant to see you again.” A nervous Ruth didn’t respond.
Arianna looked over at Claire and smiled. “It’s funny, I could have
sworn Jon took the trash out that night.” She looked back at Ruth.
“I guess the garbage men couldn’t lift the can.”

“This isn’t any of your business, Arianna,”
Ruth said politely.

“Oh, but it is Ruth. I can assure you that
you are under the delusion that you have what Jon wants, but you
couldn’t be more wrong. Jon knows that you don’t really have
anything of your own, that any valiant rescuing or love-laced
charity would, in fact, ultimately boil down to being on Victor’s
dime. And we both know he would rather die than hold one of
Victor’s dimes.” Ruth’s face showed the truth in Arianna’s
statement, and she nervously searched for a rebuttal. “Now Ava’s
request is simple.” She spoke slowly, with insistence. “Stay away
from her husband.”

“And what if I don’t?” she challenged,
defiantly tossing her blonde hair out of her face and puffing her
chest out. Arianna opened her mouth to speak, but Claire
interrupted, taking a step forward.

“Ruth,” she began sweetly, “we are three
women who have had our entire lives ripped away from us overnight.
We’ve struggled with depression and suffered from going without.”
Arianna threw Claire a furious look for spoiling an opportunity to
wound Ruth verbally in what sounded like an attempt to gain
sympathy. “My point, Ruth, is this. We stick together. We are three
women on the edge with nothing to lose. And if pushed too far,
well, do you really want to see what that looks like?” She dropped
her voice with the last sentence. Arianna smiled and the friends
turned to walk away. Arianna couldn’t resist one last stab after a
few paces and turned back.

“You remember that trip to Paris you took
with us, don’t you, Ruth? Of course, you do. And you remember the
board meetings that Jonathan went to, which left you in the hotel
alone in the evenings?” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Silly
Ruth, powerful businessmen don’t hold board meetings at nine
o’clock at night! He was in a meeting, all right. Just not one with
any board members.”

∞∞∞

“Thank you,” Ava said to them both as they
boarded the trolley.

“You honestly didn’t think that we would let
you do this alone, did you?” Arianna asked, smiling.

“Well, it was mine to deal with, and you’re
just getting over being sick and all.”

Arianna waved her hand as if none of that
mattered and stared out the window. Ava turned back to Arianna.
“Ruth went to Paris with Jon?” she asked. Arianna nodded. “You were
there?” she continued. Arianna nodded again.

She turned to Claire. “What about you?”

“No, that trip was right before Aryl and I
got married. I was still in Boston,” she explained. “I only knew
Ruth very briefly. Remember, Aryl and I got married shortly before
you came along.”

“It was Caleb and I, Jon and Ruth, and Aryl,”
Arianna offered. “That’s the only time she ever went with us. Jon
found an excuse not to bring her the other times,” she explained.
Ava was slightly relieved to hear that. She had been to Paris twice
with Jon. However, the last time was a quick trip with no time for
sightseeing and fun, and he had gone without anyone.

“Was he with another woman? When he told Ruth
he was in meetings?” Ava asked directly. It was impossible for
anyone who heard Arianna’s insinuation to think anything
differently.

“How the hell should I know? I was drunk most
of that trip.” Arianna laughed through her half-truth. Ava left it
alone, confident that Ruth wouldn’t be popping her head up anytime
soon.

December 14th 1929

On Sunday, Aryl spent the afternoon looking
for firewood. Broken pallets and crates were getting harder to
find, but he went regardless as he needed the quiet time to think.
He had some ideas that he had been considering, but there seemed to
be a roadblock for each one that he couldn’t find a way around. He
collaborated with Caleb often, and they talked about endless
possibilities that were just out of their grasp. He peered down
alleys where he normally found at least a few broken boards and
planks. He was looking, but he wasn’t really seeing. Caught up in
his ideas, worries and fears, he felt as if his life was going to
disintegrate even further at any moment, and he was running out of
time.

Ava had told him how Claire cried every day
but put on a smile in the evening. He could only keep her hanging
on for so long. Her hope was pinned on his plan to rebuild their
life, and he had yet to come up with anything solid.

And then there was Jonathan. He was literally
sinking into oblivion right before Aryl's eyes, and he was clueless
how to help him. He and Ava were cracking under the stress of this
life, and he could do nothing but watch. Caleb was so consumed with
Arianna’s mood swings and near daily sobbing that he could hardly
think about anything else. He was starting to show signs of fatigue
from constantly pulling her up.

Aryl stumbled backward off-balance, holding
his aching forehead and stared, dumbfounded, at the lamppost he had
walked directly into. He rubbed the rising lump and looked around
to find he had wandered a good distance from home. A sudden gust of
icy wind pushed Aryl back a few inches, and he turned his face away
from the arctic blast. The gust continued and he turned up his
collar, shivering. He glanced up at movement in the window next to
him and saw an old man placing a sign in the window of one of the
front apartments of the small building. The sign read ‘For Sale by
Owner Contract.’ Without making an allowance for how ridiculous it
was to inquire about buying an apartment building while out
scavenging free firewood, he climbed the steps.

“Can I help you?”

“Hello. I saw your sign and I wonder what
your terms were?” Aryl asked.

“Well, I’d like to ask a hundred dollars down
and ten-percent of the monthly rents after mortgage,” he said.

“Why don’t you just sell outright?” Aryl
asked, wondering his motives.

“Even if I could find a buyer, I owe more
than the building is worth. And I would be out of an income.”

“Why do you want to sell at all, if it’s your
income?” Aryl asked.

“I’m barely making mortgage. The building is
not fully occupied, and I can’t make the repairs needed to get
steady renters. But someone like you–” The old man looked at Aryl
and smiled. “Someone young and strong, who could put effort into
making this place real nice could attract good renters,” he said
with hope that Aryl was interested.

“So, you’re looking for someone to assume the
building with a down payment, take over management, repairs, and
maintenance?” The old man nodded. “And after collecting rent,
paying the mortgage and giving you your ten percent, the rest is my
profit?” he asked. The old man nodded again. Aryl smiled widely. “I
think we can talk. My name is Aryl Sullivan,” he said, holding out
his hand.

“Arnold Fuller. Come in, please,” the old man
offered and soon had him seated at a dining table with a cup of
coffee. Aryl pulled a pen and paper out of his back pocket, which
he kept on him at all times for jotting down ideas.

“How many units are there?”

“Twelve. Plus the two storefronts on the
first floor.” Aryl wrote the details down as he asked Mr. Fuller a
barrage of questions: the total mortgage due, average rent, number
of bedrooms in each apartment, current vacancies, heat source, and
recent work done. Last, he asked if he could look around the
property. The old man was happy to give him a tour.