The Girl in White Pajamas (11 page)

When Bogie returned to Bailey’s house, he carried six bags of groceries up the cellar stairs. After that, he walked down and came back up with his suitcase, laptop case and a sleeping bag.

Rose stood at the top of the cellar stairs staring at him. “You were supposed to go to a wake and you went grocery shopping! And I guess you checked out of the hotel?”

“Why pay for a hotel, when I’ll be staying here?”

“I don’t remember her inviting you,” Rose said as she watched him unpack groceries.

Ignoring her statement, Bogie took a container of Greek yogurt from the plastic sack. “I got her this Greek yogurt. Kids love this!” He placed the yogurt and greens for making salad in the refrigerator then cleaned the kitchen table and set a bowl he’d filled with apples and bananas in the center.

Rose shook her head. “We’ll see. Go eat your dinner, your peanut butter and jelly sandwich is waiting for you.”

“Where’s Angel?”

“I sent him home. There’s no sense in all of us staying here.”

“You’re sleeping over?”

Rose nodded and pointed to her war bag in front of the couch.

“Where were you planning on sleeping?” When Rose pointed to the couch, Bogie said, “There might be some glass left on it.”

Rose waved her hand dismissing him. “You’re the neurotic one. Where are you sleeping?”

“In my daughter’s room.”

Bogie lay on the floor in Isabella’s room. It was hard and uncomfortable. He figured it would have been easier if he was stoned like the housekeeper. Since he’d slept in worse places in his life, he laid still and closed his eyes. The dust in the room started irritating his eyes and sinuses. He stood up and walked around the room in the semi-darkness. There was a small TV with a DVD player attached. Not what he would recommend for a child, but Rose was right – shut up! Lots of books in a small bookcase. He recognized some of the Winnie the Pooh books. The bottom shelf held a large alphabet book and papers where Isabella had copied words. There was a stack of lined paper, pencils and a well-used pocket dictionary on the nightstand. Was she learning letters or drawing pictures? The closet didn’t have many items in it. There were two pink ski jackets and a lovely blue dress coat with a matching hat. He remembered a similar one that Annie had purchased for Amanda when she was little. It was a lined wool Rothschild coat with a velvet collar and velvet trim. This one looked like it had never been worn. Two lacey party dresses, one pink and one white, were hanging next to the coat. They still had price tags on them. ‘Whoa!’ he thought. ‘That’s a lot of bread for a little dress.’ Two pairs of sneakers and a pair of boots were neatly placed in the bottom of the closet. Bogie peaked in the drawers and saw underwear and socks folded in neat rows in the first drawer, nightclothes in the next and tee shirts and sweatshirts in the third drawer. The bottom drawer held jeans and sweat pants. There was a small lamp on top of the dresser that looked like it had been poorly assembled. Three little music boxes were lined up next to it. All three had tiny parts resting on top of them. Bogie laid back down thinking that at least somebody in the house was neat. Then he realized there were no dolls, stuffed animals or toys—none.

Since he was accustomed to waking early, Bogie’s eyes opened wide at five thirty in the morning. He wouldn’t run but he’d take a shower and get freshened up so he could spend some time with Isabella before the funeral. Wearing his plaid boxer shorts, he carried his toiletries kit and fresh underwear down the hall to the bathroom. There was a light under the door, and it was locked. Remembering Bailey pointing to a staircase off the pantry that led to a bathroom, he walked downstairs through the living room where Rose was sleeping, into the pantry and up the stairs that led directly into a bathroom. The room was plain with a shower stall, toilet and sink. He turned on the shower and used the soap, which he soon learned was L’Air du Temps. Clean and smelling like Bailey, he went to the sink and realized he left his razor at the hotel. Bogie found shaving cream and disposable razors stored in a cabinet beneath it. He lathered up and started shaving.

When Isabella opened her eyes, she looked around the room. Kim was gone, but there was a different sleeping bag on the floor. A suitcase sat in the corner. There was a light tap on her door and a pretty lady with black curls looked in and smiled at her. “Hello, Isabella, I’m Aunt Rose.”

Confused, the child asked, “Isn’t my faddah here?”

Rose nodded. “He’s taking a shower.”

The little girl processed this, and then said, “I have to pee.”

“I think Kim is in—” Rose started to say as she pointed down the hall.

Isabella bounded out of the room, opened her mother’s door and ran to the bathroom across the room. She opened the door and stood staring into the mirror.

Standing at the sink, Bogie saw the door open then looked into a set of eyes at the bottom of the mirror that were exactly like the ones higher up. They studied each other for a moment before Isabella ran to the toilet, pulled down her leotard and panties and sat down saying, “Whew! That was this close!” She made a small space between her thumb and index finger.

The corner of Bogie’s mouth moved as he looked down at the mop of curls. She looked up at him. Isabella studied his face then concentrated on his aquiline nose. She touched her small nose. “Are you my faddah?”

Bogie nodded hoping this child hadn’t acquired the awful Boston accent which annihilated the ‘r’s at the end of words. “And you must be Frizzy.”

The little girl giggled. “I’m Izzy not Frizzy.”

Bogie cupped a hand to his ear. “Did you say Lizzy?”

“No! My name is Isabella!”

‘And with her mother’s short temper,’ he thought. He extended his hand for her to shake. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Isabella.”

“Me too.”

“You have my eyes,” Bogie said.

Isabella shook her head vigorously. “No! These are mine! They were always mine!”

“What I meant to say was that your eyes are the same color as mine.” As he finished shaving, he watched her from the corner of his eye as she continued to study him and touch her nose. Finally she asked, “When I grow up, is my nose going to look like yours?”

Bogie shrugged. “It could.”

Isabella grinned. “Just like the bride’s.”

Before he could question her, the outside door to the bathroom opened. Rose stood in the doorway looking about a foot shorter. When she stepped up into the room, Bogie said, “Now
that’s
an architectural wonder you don’t see every day! Doesn’t anybody knock around here? Isabella and I were having a conversation.”

The little girl looked at Rose and nodded.

“Would you like me to help you get cleaned up and dressed?” Rose asked her.

When Isabella nodded, Rose motioned for her to use the toilet paper as she slid off the seat. “Wash your hands please. We’ll pick out some clothes and then you can get a bath and brush your teeth since you didn’t do that last night.”

“How do you know?” Isabella questioned as she walked to the door.

“You were sleeping in your pretty clothes and shoes when we got here.”

Isabella looked down at her clothes. “Da-dee, do you like my clothing?”

“They’re beautiful, just like you.”

The little girl smiled and followed Rose down the stairs.

As Bogie finished wiping his face, Bailey walked in. “Get out of here. I have to use the bathroom.”

“Isabella just sat down and peed.”

“I’m not Isabella, and you’re not funny. Get out.”

When Bogie left, he walked through Bailey’s room and into the hallway. He noticed the other bathroom was still occupied by Kim. After he put on a clean shirt and his suit pants, Bogie walked down the hall and pounded on the door.

“I’ll be right out,” a small voice said.

“Ten minutes! You don’t spend more than ten minutes in there!” he commanded before he raced down the stairs.

When Bogie entered the kitchen, he stopped and watched Isabella. She sat on a chair while Rose pulled a wide-toothed comb through her hair. “See! This kind of comb doesn’t hurt,” Rose reassured the child.

Isabella nodded and looked at Bogie. “Did you eat the dinner I made you, Da-dee?”

Bogie nodded. “Thank you very much! That was the most delicious sandwich I’ve had in a long time.”

“I could make you an nudder one right now if you want.”

Bogie shook his head. “Let’s have some breakfast.”

Isabella was the center of attention throughout the meal. She was tempted with Greek yogurt which she didn’t like, bananas, which were okay, soy milk, which she spit out and finally Cocoa Puffs swimming in whole milk. She ate them greedily as she captured brown, sugary balls with her spoon while they swam around the cereal bowl.

Bailey sat quietly taking tiny bites of toast while she sipped tea.

Bogie was about to say something until Rose gave him one of her ‘don’t even think about it’ looks. As the meal ended, Rose asked, “What time do you have to be at the house?”

“Eight o’clock,” Bogie said absently as he glimpsed at his black Suunto military watch that gave him weather and directional information but couldn’t remind him today was Bud’s funeral.

Isabella looked up from her cereal and grinned. “Where are we going, Da-dee?”

“
I
have to go to a funeral. Do you know what a funeral is?”

She nodded. “Fluffy died. We had a funeral for her. I put flowers on her grave. It was very sad.”

Almost relieved, he said, “Well, I don’t want you to be sad so I’ll go alone.”

“No!” she screeched. “I want to go with you. I promise I won’t be sad.”

Bogie looked at her wide, frightened eyes then glanced at Bailey who only shrugged. “Okay! Let’s get ready to go to a funeral.”

As they approached the McGruder brownstone, Rose glanced in the rearview mirror. Sitting next to Isabella in the back, Bogie kept looking to make sure she was safe. Isabella’s car seat was in Bailey’s wrecked BMW and Jack was gone when they realized the child needed one. Bogie improvised a seat from pillows and tightened the seatbelt as much as possible. “Are you okay, Isabella?” he asked for the fifth time since they dropped Bailey off at her building where Angel was waiting to meet her. “I’m fine Da-dee!” she said again and sighed.

The little girl walked up the stairs wearing her navy blue coat and matching hat. She held her father’s hand as they rang the doorbell. When James answered the door, he looked down smiling then touched her hand. “Welcome, Miss Isabella!”

Surprised, the child said, “You know my name!”

“We know all about you,” James said. “Come in and meet your family.”

Annie and Mother McGruder sat in their usual chairs next to the unlit fireplace in the living room. Annie’s eyes teared up as she looked at the little girl. Elizabeth McGruder gasped. Annie got out of her chair, bent down and hugged Isabella. “I’m Aunt Annie and this is Grandma.”

Isabella extended her hand. “Hello, Aunt Annie.” She brought her hand back then extended it to Elizabeth McGruder. “Hello, Grandma.”

The second the child said ‘Grandma’ Elizabeth McGruder began sobbing. “She’s just like Jennifer!”

The doorbell rang. Amanda and Randy stood on the stoop arm in arm. James beamed. “Miss Amanda, Mr. Randy! Your sister is here.”

Amanda’s face tightened as she prepared to meet the child she hated, the child who probably didn’t belong to her father. She almost smiled when she watched the carrot-colored curls bobbing as Isabella spoke to Ann. But when the child turned around and looked at her, Amanda gasped. She had Bogie’s eyes. Those ice-blue eyes that studied and penetrated. But unlike Bogie, Isabella had a wide, generous smile. She extended her small arm. “I’m Isabella.” Amanda smiled, bent down and hugged the little girl. “I’m Amanda, your sister. And this is Randy. He’s my fiancé.” The little girl smiled at Randy. He lifted her up and held her. “You are the cutest thing!” When Isabella whispered in his ear, he nodded and put her down. As Isabella heard her father calling her from the kitchen, she said, “Excuse me” and ran down the hall.

“What did she say to you?” Amanda asked.

Randy grinned. “She told me she was a big girl, and I didn’t need to pick her up.” He shook his head and laughed. “I hope our baby is half as cute as Isabella.”

“Our baby will be twice as cute as her,” Amanda said defensively.

While Trudie cried and made a fuss over Isabella, Bogie turned to James. “Have you heard anything from Jeannie?”

James shook his head. “She’s had all the lights on again.”

“How do you know?” Bogie asked.

“Normally, both yards are dark. But for the past two or three days you can see them clearly. I walked out to the alley and realized it’s because she has on all the lights on all the floors.”

“What’s she doing?” Bogie asked.

James only shrugged.

“I’m going to run over there and see if she’s coming to the funeral home with us.”

“Is that wise?” James asked.

“No.”

Bogie banged on the glass insert of the front door until Jeannie, looking in worse shape than she had the day before, flung it open. “What the fuck do you want?”

“The limo is going to be here to take the family to—”

“Fuck the family!” Jeannie screamed.

“Do you want your own limo?”

Jeannie considered this, snorted then cackled, “Yeah, sure, let the old lady pay for it.”

The family filed into the funeral home for a prayer before the coffin would be escorted to the Park Street Church for the service. Isabella held Bogie’s hand tight as they stood in the back of the chapel while uniformed police officers escorted the coffin to the hearse. She watched intently as Annie and Elizabeth sobbed while they re-entered the limousine to follow the hearse in a formal procession down Commonwealth Avenue to the church. The child jumped as all the motorcycles revved up ready to lead the funeral cortege.

Orders came from the top—keep this show on a tight timetable. No traffic jams, no fuck-ups. That also meant no Jeannie. She and her limousine did not get to the funeral home at the designated time. Everything went forward without her.