The Coach House (12 page)
* * *
By the time Marie and Richard arrived in Times Square, thousands of people had already gathered, making it next to impossible to get close to 42
nd
and Broadway where the ball would be dropped. The entire area pulsated with excitement.
At eleven o’clock floodlights lit up the Times building, and a band played a variety of seasonal songs. Marie and Richard huddled up with each other in the thirty-degree temperature, the cold air occasionally ripping into their faces when there was a slight break in the crowd.
The band started playing “Auld Lang Syne.” People in the crowd, including Marie and Richard, joined in the chorus.
As they were singing the chorus for what seemed like the hundredth time, the heavy iron ball started to drop, the spotlights on it making it appear weightless. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six,” the crowd shouted. Children screamed and danced in the street. “Five, four, three, two, one!” Richard gave Marie a bear hug and a firm kiss while forty million pieces of ticker tape and confetti were released from windows high above the crowd. The band continued to play, but it could not be heard above the shouts and laughter.
Richard took Marie by the shoulders and kissed her hard on the lips. “Happy New Year, sweetheart,” he said trying to be heard. “I love you!”
“I love you, too!” Marie yelled.
He grabbed Marie by the arm. “Let’s get out of here!” They pushed their way through the tightly packed crowd. When they finally reached the outskirts, they were both out of breath. They headed toward the hotel, arms wrapped around each other. Revelers were everywhere, blowing horns, shouting “Happy New Year!” and carrying on like it was the last New Year they would ever see.
It was two in the morning when they finally reached their hotel, and Marie and Richard were exhausted. “What time is our flight tomorrow?” she asked him.
“One thirty. I thought we could sleep in, have room service for breakfast, and stick around the hotel until we have to leave for the airport.” He pulled her to him and kissed her. “What do you think of that, Mrs. Marchetti?”
She pulled her upper body away from him and smiled in his face. “Mrs. Marchetti. Hey, I like the sound of that!”
* * *
Back in Chicago, Mr. Steinberg had been ready for Marie and Richard when they arrived in his jewelry store the following Saturday. After the usual introductions, the jeweler pulled out a tray of diamond rings, all of similar size. “Let’s start with these. I have more if you don’t see anything you like.”
They spent an hour looking at rings and finally chose the first one she had tried on: a two carat Emerald cut stone. Afterward they walked hand in hand down State Street to Marshall Field’s, where they stopped at each Christmas window display along the way. The air was cool and crisp and filled with the voices of shoppers. Mothers and fathers with their children watched
Snow White
with eager faces and giggled at the comical animation of the seven dwarfs while Snow White cleaned their house.
“Can you name them?” Richard asked her.
“Are you kidding? After spending the night with them, I feel like
I’m
Snow White!”
* * *
Richard and Marie moved into their new home the week before their wedding. In bed that first night, they talked about what needed to take place during the week leading up to their wedding. He held her with one arm as they talked and with the other played with her hair and stroked her cheek. He kissed her neck and then kissed his way down her body, including in all the most intimate places, but continued talking in between kisses as though nothing else was going on. Waves of sensation ran through her like a river as he kissed her breasts. He explored the curves of her hips and when he found the sweet spot between her thighs, she let out a soft murmur of contentment to let him know her body ached for him.
She slid her fingers around his manhood, and he responded with a breathy, “More.” They continued with their conversation right up to the end until neither one had enough air in their lungs to say anything else. Afterward, lying there beside him, Marie felt like nothing could ever come between them.
* * *
They met in the judge’s chambers in Crown Point at five o’clock on Friday, February 15, 1946. The ceremony was simple and over in about five minutes. Marie wore a teal knee-length suit and matching pill-box hat. Richard wore a steel grey double-breasted pinstriped suit, light grey shirt, and a wide tie with stripes in shades of grey.
That night as she lay in bed, Marie convinced herself she had done the right thing. The thought of being Mrs. Richard Marchetti was exciting, but the thought of creating a family with him was even more promising.
* * *
The newly wedded Marchettis returned from their Hawaiian honeymoon tanned, rested, and very much in love. They spent seven carefree days thinking about not much more than each other. Seven days of swimming, shopping, and lying on the beach. Seven incomparable sunsets and long moonlit walks in the salty ocean air. And seven days of blissful sex.
They swam in the ocean, challenged by the strong waves. When the waves became more than Marie could handle, Richard took her in his arms and carried her to shore. Then they rested in the lounge chairs for a while, drank tropical drinks, and talked about everything and nothing before going back for more frolicking in the water.
On the last morning of their stay Marie woke up alone in their bed. She found Richard drinking a cup of coffee on their private patio. She followed the direction of his gaze far out into the ocean and decided not to disturb him. She picked up a piece of paper he must have dropped. On it was written a phone number: RF4-1609. She wasn’t familiar with the RF4 telephone exchange. Thinking nothing of it, she stuffed it in her robe pocket.
Marie tried to put Capone’s funeral out of her mind, but it wasn’t easy when every few days, Richard did or said something that made her suspicious of his activities. She tried to concentrate on each incident by itself, because each one by itself wasn’t bothersome. It was the sum of all the little parts adding up to something shady that she didn’t want to think about. She tried to concentrate on Richard’s virtues whenever her mind drifted over to his not-so-virtuous side.
On their one-year wedding anniversary, Marie and Richard attended a Mardi Gras party at Rosa’s. It wouldn’t have been Marie’s first choice, but Richard’s behavior lately had been nothing short of contentious, and Marie didn’t want to upset him even more by suggesting an alternate venue.
Richard was his usual congenial self, going from one end of the bar area after another, talking to everyone he knew, which was almost everyone. But he wasn’t his usual attentive self toward Marie. She was left to spend her time with the other wives and girlfriends.
Richard had been talking with the same man in the corner of the bar for more than ten minutes. The man’s eyes darted around the room every so often, but the rest of the time he faced Richard with an intense face. He looked familiar to Marie, but she couldn’t place him. Grey haired, thin lips, narrow in the jaw, and a flawless complexion, he was older than most of the other men she had seen with Richard.
“So who was that you were talking to?” she asked him.
“Uh…Paul. His name’s Paul.”
“Paul what?”
Richard gave her an embittered look. “Ricca. Why?”
“Just curious. He looks familiar, that’s all. Where does he live?”
“I don’t know, Marie. Why all the questions?”
“No reason.”
The next day as Marie was getting clothes ready for the dry cleaners, she found Mr. Ricca’s business card in the pocket of Richard’s suit coat. It bore a River Forest address, and then it occurred to her where she had seen him before. It had been at the movies during the news clip. He had just been released from Leavenworth prison, and the newsreel showed him dressed to the nines coming out of the Winslow House in River Forest. She remembered thinking at the time he didn’t look like the “thug” type.
She placed the card on Richard’s desk, then picked it up and looked at it closer. The phone number looked familiar. For a reason unknown to Marie herself, she had held onto the scrap of paper containing the phone number that Richard had dropped in their Hawaiian hotel room a year earlier. She retrieved it from the bottom of her jewelry box. The numbers matched.
So even on our honeymoon, he was working…or something.
She shook her head in disbelief. What was he doing with an ex-con? She wished she had paid closer attention to the reason he was in prison.
Once again, Marie tried to put Richard’s actions out of her mind, but three weeks after the Ricca incident, as they were relaxing in their living room watching
Kraft Theater
on television, the phone rang. Richard jumped up to answer it.
“You’re kidding,” he said to the person on the other end of the phone. “How?” Richard lowered his voice to a level where Marie couldn’t discern what he was saying, only a few words here and there. “…for me,” he whispered. “I can do…” “Hollywood. More…us.” “She won’t be…” His last words were unmistakable. “Fuck his stupid rules.”
“More Fiefield project business, dear?”
“Yeah. I’ve told them not to call me here at night. Just stupid.”
She had intended for her question to be sarcastic, but he apparently didn’t catch on.
* * *
“Please come in, Marie.” Marshall Field’s Board Member Leonard Bakersfield was a tall man, even sitting down. He had that I’m-in-charge look about him, the one that made people listen and not question. He twisted a pencil in his long bony fingers as he spoke.
“As you know, Catherine is quite ill.”
Marie nodded. No one had to tell her that. She had been watching Catherine’s health slowly deteriorate before her eyes.
“I met with her and her husband yesterday at their home, and we decided it was best for her to not come back to work. She needs treatments every other day now, and her doctors feel it’s time for her to be in confinement, which means living at the hospital…in the iron lung ward.”
Marie heaved an audible sigh. “I don’t know what to say. She doesn’t deserve this.”
“I agree. Catherine has been the cornerstone of this store for almost twenty years. We’re going to miss her.”
“I’ll do whatever you want me to do in order to fill the gap, Mr. Bakersfield.”
“That’s why I called you in here today, Marie. Catherine speaks very highly of you, and we agree you are the best person to replace her. It would mean a promotion and a generous raise.”
Marie’s eyes grew wide. “My first reaction is to say thank you so much for having that level of confidence in me. I’ve been backing her up for the past several months, so I think I can handle just about everything she does. But I have to tell you, I would feel almost guilty taking her position.”
“You shouldn’t. She has recommended you for it in the highest regard.”
They talked about the specifics of the position, after which Marie accepted the offer.
“Catherine knows we’re having this conversation. I suggest you call her and discuss it further with her. Come up with a game plan. She’s well enough to help you with that. Then let’s you and I discuss it next week. How does that sound?”
“Yes, of course.”
He got up and extended his hand. “Congratulations. I look forward to working with you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Bakersfield. Same here.”
Marie made the emotional call to Catherine. They agreed to meet the following Thursday to discuss a transition plan.
On her drive home that evening, Marie thought about Catherine, or anyone for that matter, having to live in an iron lung. What kind of quality of life could that be? Her thoughts drifted to how her own life was about to change, at least at work. She wondered how the store employees would feel about her taking over. She felt she had their respect, but, after all, she was younger than almost everyone else in the store’s employ.
Richard was on the phone when Marie got home. True to form, he lowered his voice when he heard her come in.
“Hi, sweetheart. Ready to go to dinner?”
They drove the short distance to Eduardo’s. Marie decided to wait until they sat down to dinner to tell him about Catherine and her talk with Mr. Bakersfield.