The Coach House (37 page)

Marie didn’t respond.

“You’re not going to do that…are you?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m not going to do that.”

“You’ve got that look on your face, Marie. I’ve seen it before. What are you thinking?”

“Can you drive me home? I think it’s probably safe to go back to my apartment now.”

Marie slumped down in the front seat of Karen’s car as soon as she got in and bent over at the waist so as not to be seen from the outside. “Keep your eye out for anyone who looks the least bit suspicious on the way, and if you see anyone, just keep going…away from my apartment.”

“You’re scaring me.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to. I’m probably being overly cautious anyway.”

Back in the safety of her apartment, Marie was starting to think she may have to confront Richard in order to stop him from harassing her. The problem was she didn’t know when or how.

* * *

True to her promise, Marie changed Karen’s storefront display window each month. Karen’s business improved, and she allowed Marie to purchase additional props for the windows. Often these props came from antique shops or secondhand stores. No matter how inexpensive the props were, when Marie got done with them, they looked chic instead of cheap. It wasn’t long before other local shop owners asked Marie to help them with their store window displays, and Marie’s touch was soon visible all over town.

One Sunday afternoon in October, two months following the police station incident, Julia was planting fall annuals throughout the yard to replace her fading summer gardens. Julia was the conductor, and each flower was a musician. Sometimes it took several rehearsals, but when Julia was done, her gardens were harmonious masterpieces. Wayne Sr. was teaching four-year-old Wayne Jr. to catch and throw a baseball. Frannie’s chubby little legs were getting a good workout in her bouncy chair.

Marie went down to talk with them. “Julia, your flowers are so beautiful, but I have to tell you that as pretty as they are from here on the ground, they’re even more spectacular from my window.”

Julia proudly pointed out the chrysanthemums, asters, marigolds, petunias, begonias, pansies, impatiens, and snapdragons. They were all foreign names to Marie, but the kaleidoscope of flower shapes and colors was breathtaking. Julia was about to tell her about the taller ones in the back when a black cat emerged from between the petunias.

“Scat, you darn cat! Get out of my flowers!” Julia shouted at the cat as she chased after it. “That damn thing poops in my flower beds, and then when I’m weeding, I dig into it. I wish people wouldn’t let their stupid pets run loose.”

Wayne Jr. lost interest in playing ball, and he and his father came over to join the conversation. “I see your friend is back, eh Ma?” Wayne Sr. teased his wife.

Julia wasn’t in the mood for humor. “That rotten cat better stay out of my flowers if it knows what’s good for him,” she threatened.

Julia walked toward one of the gardens and picked a small bouquet while Marie and Wayne Sr. chatted. Julia handed the flowers to Marie. “Thanks for the nice compliment. Here are some asters to brighten up your apartment.”

“Well, thank you so much. I have just the right vase for them.”

When Marie opened the door to her apartment, the same black cat that Julia had just shooed ran inside. “Hey, you can’t go in there!” Marie shouted. But before she could block its path, the cat ran up the stairs. “Come back here!” she said, chasing after it. The cat was waiting on the top step for her. It tilted its head and purred, its yellow incandescent eyes begging her to let her in.

Flowers in hand, Marie tried to squeeze through the door without letting the cat in, but it was too quick for her. She placed the flowers in the sink and went after it. Every time she got close, it would run to another part of the apartment. Finally, it went under her bed. “Now what do I do?”

She looked out the back window where Wayne Sr. had resumed playing with his son.

“Wayne, I have a problem. That cat we saw earlier must have been hiding in the bushes just waiting for me to open the door, and it scooted right in. Now he’s hiding way under my bed where I can’t reach him. Can you help me?”

“Well, I can try.” Just as he finished his sentence, Julia came out to tell him dinner was ready. “Your friend the cat slipped into Marie’s apartment when she opened the door, and now she can’t get him out,” Wayne told his wife.

“Good. Now he won’t ruin my flower beds.”

“But I can’t keep him in the apartment. I mean…you don’t allow pets.”

Julia looked at her husband. “If it means one less stray cat in the neighborhood, we can change the rules. What do you think, Wayne?”

“Anything you say, dear. But maybe we should ask Marie if she even wants to keep the cat.”

“Well, I don’t know. I’ve never had a cat before. How about if I keep him for a couple of days, and if it doesn’t work out, I’ll bring him to a shelter, and hopefully they can find him a good home.”

“That’s a deal. C’mon, Wayne. Dinner’s getting cold.”

As Wayne walked away, he turned around, shrugged his shoulders, and then winked at Marie.

Marie called Karen. “Help! Can you drive me to the pet store before they close? I have an emergency.”

“The pet store? What’s your emergency?”

“No time for questions. Just pick me up as soon as you can.”

Neither of them had any knowledge of how to care for a cat, but fortunately the salesman at the pet store did. Back at her apartment, Karen helped Marie find a place for the litter box and the food and water bowls. They kept referring back to
Everything You Need to Know About Raising a Cat
that Marie had purchased with the other items. It was a long process, one that called for more than one glass of wine.

“The man in the pet store was flirting with you,” Karen said to Marie.

“Was he? I didn’t notice.”

“It was pretty obvious.” Marie didn’t respond. “You know you catch men’s eyes wherever we go.”

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do. What are you going to do when one of them asks you out? Only a matter of time.”

Marie looked at her friend. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I’d be prepared for that if I were you. Would you go out with someone else?”

“Of course not. I’m married.”

“How long are you going to wait?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead. I do know that if I abandon Richard for one year, he can sue for divorce and he’ll probably be granted it. Other than that, I guess I would have to sue him, and it looks like I don’t have any grounds…legally, that is.”

“It’ll be a year next May, right?”

“Yeah.”

Marie looked under her bed for the cat thinking she could coax him out, but the cat wasn’t there. “I don’t know where he is, so let’s have another glass of wine and wait for him to come out,” Marie suggested.

By the third glass of wine, the elusive cat emerged. “Where did he come out from?” she asked Karen.

“Beats me. All of a sudden he was just sitting there.”

After looking at the two of them for a full minute without blinking, the cat calmly walked over to the bowl and lapped up some water. Then he went to the other bowl and ate some food. It didn’t take long for him to find the litter box. After using it, he pranced across the living room toward Marie, jumped up on her lap, curled up in a ball, and purred.

And so began the relationship between Marie and Sheana, who turned out to be a girl. Having a cat as a pet, Marie was surprised to learn, was cathartic. Sheana’s favorite thing to do was sit on Marie’s lap and be petted. If Marie closed her eyes while she stroked Sheana’s back, all their worries magically faded—hers and the cat’s.

* * *

It was Marie’s first Thanksgiving away from Richard. She and Karen, who had complained in the past about often being the fifth wheel at someone’s home for holidays, went to a restaurant for their holiday dinner. Afterward, they went back to Karen’s apartment.

As Karen poured the wine, she asked Marie what she thought Richard was doing for the holiday.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. He knows a million people. I’m sure he has many options.”

“What are you doing for Christmas?”

“I don’t know. Before I met Richard, I would spend it with the Jeffersons, but now they’re gone. I guess I’m somewhat of a lost soul. How about you?”

“Last year I went to my former sister-in-law’s house. The year before that I think I stayed home…by myself. Didn’t like that much.”

“Are there any shelters around here, Karen?”

“You mean for the homeless?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Not that I know of. Maybe in Topeka or Kansas City.”

“I wouldn’t mind volunteering at one on Christmas. Would you go with me if I can find one?”

“Sure.”

It had been seven months since Marie left Richard and four months since he showed up at the police station. Marie didn’t know whether to be relieved that so much time had passed without hearing from him or be more circumspect than before. She wasn’t sure if he had given up or was taking his time plotting something. Richard wasn’t one to give up easily, but four months felt like a long time to Marie for him to do nothing.

The holidays helped to take Marie’s mind off of Richard, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t constantly on high alert. Like when she and Karen attended the annual Christmas party sponsored by the local businessmen’s club.

“Look, there’s Sal Bruno. Let’s go say hello,” Karen said shortly after they arrived.

“Who’s he?”

“You never met him? Owns that jewelry store on sixth. C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”

Marie didn’t like the sound of his name. “You go, Karen. I see someone over there I want to talk to.”

Karen gave Marie a curious look, but did as she was told.

Five minutes later when Marie looked over at Karen and Sal, she saw that Lulu had joined them. Lulu Botkin, the possible relative of creepy Ivan. Three small town store-owners chit-chatting over a glass of wine at a Christmas party. Seemed innocent enough.
So why do I feel so uneasy?

Marie’s uneasiness stayed with her long after the Christmas party. She was cautious whenever she was out and about—in restaurants, doing things with Karen, and going to and from her car. Karen was her salvation, someone she could always count on to get her mind off of Richard when she needed it.

On Christmas morning, the two women drove to the First Baptist Mission in Kansas City as planned. The temperature was well below zero. “Colder than a witch’s tit,” Karen said to Marie through a laugh.

“What!”

“Ed used to use that expression. It’s awful, I know, but it has meaning.” Marie just rolled her eyes.

At the shelter, they helped prepare food for the disadvantaged and served them from eleven to two o’clock while the church organist played Christmas carols. Each child received a toy, and each adult was allowed to pick out one pair of donated shoes for their family members. There’s nothing like seeing hundreds of hungry men, women, and children to make you forget your own problems.

They went to Marie’s afterward.

“So, you’ve been here, what, about six, seven months?”

“Mm-hm.”

“What do you think?”

“About what?”

“About staying here.”

Marie took a sip of wine. “Honestly, I miss my job at Field’s and living in Chicago. I miss my life the way it used to be. But since I can’t go back there, this is a very nice alternative.”

“Think you’ll stay?”

“I signed a year lease.”

“You also vowed to stay married ‘till death do you part,” she reminded her.

“Good point.” Marie paused for a minute. “I don’t know. I think about it all the time. Did I do the right thing? Could I have done something differently? Should I have gone to the police back in Chicago and taken my chances? Should I have moved further away? I don’t know.”

Dinah Shore sang in the background.

Gimme eastern trimmin’ where women are women

In high silk hose and peek-a-boo clothes

And French perfume that rocks the room

And I’m all yours in buttons and bows

“Can I make a suggestion?”

Marie nodded.

“Spend more time looking forward.”

“Easier said than done, I’m afraid.” Marie sipped her wine. “I’ll tell you one thing. When I’m here…in this coach house…I feel safe. Like my feet are off the ground, and nobody can touch me.”

* * *

The steady snow fell softly outside Marie’s window. She sat curled up on her sofa with a book in her lap but couldn’t get past the first page. She thought about Karen and the many conversations they had since they met, times when she talked about details of her marriage with Richard. Talking things out with someone else, using them as a sounding board, was helpful. She had revealed a lot about herself to Karen, but not everything, like breaking into the old woman’s house, her and Richard’s more intimate moments, and her unsubstantiated ethnicity. There was still that private core that no one could touch.