The Coach House (48 page)

“So what the story is telling us, if you believe in it, is that the environment around us contributes to who we are.”

“Or people may not appear to be who they really are because they are so influenced by their environment.” Marie thought about what she had just said and teared up.

“What’s wrong, hon?”

“I think…well, I don’t know. I grew up in a white environment, and that’s not who I really am.”

“But if you had been raised in a colored environment, that’s not who you really are, either. You can’t let that get to you.”

“Are you familiar with the “one-drop” rule?”

“No.”

“It means that any person with one drop of colored blood in them is considered colored.”

“That doesn’t seem fair.”

Marie swiped the tears off her face. “I know. It’s just that…”

“Maybe you need to find your secret garden.”

Marie smiled weakly. “Maybe you’re right.”

Karen looked deep into Marie’s eyes. “What would be the number one thing you’d want in your secret garden?”

Marie looked past Karen and tried to think of the right answer.
The most honest answer.
“Family.”

“I probably could have guessed that would be your answer. What else?”

“Freedom.” She raised her head and bit the inside of her lip. “I want the freedom to be who I am, without any fears, without anyone’s resistance.”

“And if someone said, ‘Poof! You’re free to be who you are,’what would you do differently?”

“I don’t know. I’d have to figure that out.”

“Good luck.”

“Why? Do you think that’s being unrealistic?”

Karen’s gaze went out the window. Then she looked back at Marie. “It’s too ideal.”

“Maybe so.”

“I do know one thing. If you don’t take control, no one will do that for you. That’s how you get freedom.”

Marie gave Karen a sharp look. “Get it? You can’t just get freedom.”

Karen raised her eyebrows. “You can if you’re in control of it.”

She wasn’t following Karen’s logic. “How do you control someone else’s behaviors?”

“You can’t. But you can control how you react to them. Think about the movie we just saw. That crippled boy was so determined to walk that he ignored his father, the most influential person in a boy’s life.”

“Some fears are just too hard to overcome.”

“Marie, fears are like snakes. They all look scary, but most of them are harmless. And even the poisonous ones, if you don’t disturb them, they won’t likely bother you.”

“Where did you learn that little piece of advice?”

“From the therapist I went to after Ed died. Pretty good, don’t you think? Wanna hear another one?”

Marie nodded.

“The sharpest pains in life come from our own swords.”

“Hmm.”

Marie went to the kitchen to refill her wine glass and glanced down at the newspaper on the kitchen counter. The headline of an article in the lower right-hand corner caught her eye.

Joey “Doves” Aiuppa Arrested for Skimming

She read the two-paragraph article, but what stuck in her mind was the last sentence.

Karen joined her. “What’s wrong?”

She pointed to the headline.

“What’s skimming?”

“That’s when someone hides money to avoid paying taxes, probably connected to gambling somehow.”

“So?”

“It says he’s expected to take down others with him. I’m pretty sure he was one of the thugs in my house the day I escaped. I know I heard his name said. I just hope he wasn’t the one who said he thought I knew too much.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. Richard told me not to worry about the guys who were there that day; that they were nobodies. But the way this article reads, Doves, or whatever his name is, sounds like he’s a
somebody
to me,”

“What about Richard? Could he be one of the ones he takes down with him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Was he into gambling when you were with him?”

“Probably.” She looked up at Karen. “But this is
not
going to rain on my parade.” She folded the paper in half to hide the article. “I am not going to let stuff like this affect what I do. Not anymore.”

* * *

A couple of days following the Aiuppa article, Marie had one of her reoccurring nightmares where she woke up with strange men in her bedroom and had no way to protect herself. Richard was always among them. The next day, feeling particularly assertive, she made a serious decision. She decided to buy a gun.

According to the
Yellow Pages,
the nearest gun shop was in Kansas City. Marie was nervous about what she was about to purchase, and the drive there seemed longer than usual. She pulled into the parking lot of the gun store and sat in her car for several minutes before going in.

The owner of the store, Barry Stone, recommended a Smith & Wesson .38 special revolver. An avid gun collector himself, Barry told Marie he had been selling guns for ten years, but never before to a woman. He showed her the gun, handling it like most people would handle a rare artifact, his hands carefully gliding over the weapon while he talked about it. When he was done, he handed it to Marie. “Here…see how it feels to you.”

She let him place the gun into her shaking hands. “It feels pretty heavy.” She put it down on the counter and took a step back. The only other time she had touched a gun was when she found Richard’s in his desk drawer.

Barry gave her a compassionate look. “Can I ask you a question?” Marie shrugged her shoulders. “Why do you want to own a gun?”

Marie gave him a poker-face look and didn’t say anything.

“The only reason I ask is that maybe I can help you become more comfortable with it. If I knew what you intended to use it for, I’d know how to best help you.”

“I just want to be able to use it in case I have to.”

“So you want it for protection.”

Marie nodded.

“Okay, that’s understandable. I’m assuming you’ve never shot one before.” Marie nodded. “Would you like me to teach you how to use it?”

She hadn’t noticed his ice-blue eyes before. “Yes, I’d like that.”

Barry owned a large piece of property in Leavenworth where he set up target practice for Marie. His first goal was to reduce Marie’s anxiety over guns to a manageable level. Not an easy task.

At her first lesson, he explained how the gun worked mechanically. He taught her about gun safety and how to clean it after each use. Then he showed her how to hold it, the proper stance, and how to align the sights. By the time she pulled the trigger for the first time, she was surprisingly at ease with it.

Much to both her and Barry’s shock, Marie had a natural talent for shooting. After just a few lessons, she could consistently hit targets from fifty feet within a half-inch of the center.

At the end of her last lesson, Barry asked her if she would like to have dinner with him sometime.

The question took her by surprise. “I’m married.”

“Sorry. I didn’t see a wedding ring, so I assumed…”

“Well, it’s a long story,” she explained. She found him ruggedly attractive and regretted having to play this game, especially since deep down she longed to be with someone, someone who would make her smile, someone to hold and touch and whisper to when the lights were turned off…but all that would have to wait.

“Too bad,” he said. “For me, that is.”

She kept the gun in the drawer of her nightstand…loaded. It gave her what she had hoped for, peace of mind.

Marie considered one of her challenges to be maintaining an awareness of what Richard could potentially do to her without being absorbed by it, without it controlling her life. She and Karen talked about it one evening.

“It’s all about facing fears,” Marie said to her. “How do you face yours?”

“I don’t think I have any.”

“Everyone has fears.”

“Not me.”

Marie looked deep into the eyes of her best friend. “Tell me, Karen. Why haven’t you been in any relationships since Ed died?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Why not? You said your marriage was good.”

“It was.”

“What was good about it?”

Karen thought about it for a moment. “He was always there for me. Supported me in anything I did or wanted. He encouraged me to do things I wouldn’t have otherwise done. We talked about that. Was a loving husband.”

“Don’t you want that again…with someone else?”

“No.”

“So what are you afraid of?”

Karen teared up, unable to speak for several seconds. “That it will end painfully. I could never go through that again.” She put her head in her hands and silently sobbed.

Marie got up and hugged her. “I’m sorry, Karen. I shouldn’t have pushed you there just to make a point.”

Karen composed herself. “No need to apologize. I needed to admit that. You know what?”

Marie shook her head.

“This is how messed up I am. My second biggest fear is that I’m going to die alone.”

“Just when you least expect it, you’re going to meet someone who is going to rescue you from those fears, you know.”

“I don’t know…”

“Well I’ve come to the realization that if your fears keep you from living your life the way you want to live it, they have to be faced head-on. Ignoring them won’t make them go away. And that’s what I intend to do. So are you with me?”

“And just how are we going to do that?”

“I don’t know that yet.”

* * *

The next morning Marie opened her door to two men who flashed FBI badges at her.

“May we come in?”

Her immediate thought was they may not be on the up and up and Richard may have had something to do with their visit. She pointed to a bench in one of Julia’s gardens and said, “Can we talk over there?”

One man did all the talking. He asked Marie what her relationship to Richard Marchetti was, the dates they were together, what activities they did together, and which of his friends and colleagues she knew. He spent the most time asking her why she left him and if she had had any contact with him since then.

Marie answered all his questions openly and honestly. When they appeared to have all the answers they needed, the two men got up to leave.

“May I ask what this was all about?”

“Several Chicagoans, including your husband, were just arrested for illegal gambling in Illinois and Wisconsin. We’re still uncovering others who were involved.” He tipped his hat. “You’re clear. Good day.”

* * *

Marie and Karen arrived in New York just as the leaves were starting to turn to their autumn reds, yellows, and golds. Not able to check into their room yet, Marie took Karen to see Central Park. The cool crisp air invigorated them as they walked arm in arm down 5
^th
Avenue. “Look at these buildings, will you? And I thought Chicago was big,” Karen remarked.

“This is a lot bigger and way more spread out.”

“How many times have you been here?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Five or six times, I think.” Marie thought about her life in Chicago with Richard and their frequent trips here, sometimes taken on the spur of the moment. She had to admit the good times were really good. “Things have certainly changed for me during this past year and a half,” Marie said after they got settled in their hotel room.

“I’ll say. I can still picture you that first day you stepped into my shop.”

“I was pretty pathetic, wasn’t I?”

“Well, let’s just say you were just a shadow of the person I know today.”

“I couldn’t have come this far without you, Karen.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I mean it. You’ve been the best friend anyone could ever ask for. I love you like the sister I never had.” She turned to Karen and gave her a hug.

“Well, I could say the same about you, you know.” The two women smiled at each other.

“It’s been a long road for me, and I still have a long way to go. Karen?”

“What?”

“Let’s always be friends. No matter what happens in our lives, let’s promise each other to never get out of touch. What do ya say?”

“No matter what,” Karen promised.

“Now c’mon. Let’s go shopping!”

The two women strolled down Park Avenue, the street bustling with businessmen and shoppers. “So is you-know-who still in jail? What if he’s out and happens to be here?” Karen asked. “You said he comes here quite often.”

“My guess is that his jail time wasn’t very long, but I really don’t know. If he’s here…Oh, I don’t know. I may give him a nod, but then again maybe I won’t.” Both women laughed as they entered Macy’s.

“Yep, you sure have changed, my friend.”

They visited several shops, bought very little, but thoroughly enjoyed the shopping experience and each other’s company. They were walking through the lobby of their hotel on the way back to their room when Marie stopped short. There, seated at one of the tables in the lobby bar, were Lucy and Max Guzik. Marie pulled back on Karen’s arm and guided her to behind a potted palm.