Mary Clark: A Cry In The Night

“We usually manage to get a bus in bad weather,” she said. “Tonight they were so full, there was hardly room for the driver.”

The block between Lexington and Park was filled with high-stooped brownstones. Jenny pointed to the third house on the uptown side. “That’s it.” She eyed the street affectionately. To her the rows of brownstones offered a sense of tranquillity: houses nearly one hundred years old, built when Manhattan still had large neighborhoods of single-family homes. Most of them were gone now, reduced to rubble to make way for skyscrapers.

Outside her building, she tried to say good night to Erich but he refused to be dismissed.

“I’ll see you in,” he told her.

Reluctantly she preceded him into the ground-level studio. She’d made slipcovers in a cheerful yellow-and-orange pattern for the battered secondhand upholstery; a piece of dark brown carpet covered most of the scarred parquet floor; the cribs fit into the small dressing room off the bathroom and were almost concealed by the louver door. Chagall prints hid some of the peeling wall paint and her plants brightened the ledge over the kitchen sink.

Glad to be released Beth and Tina ran into the room. Beth spun around. “I’m very glad to be home, Mommy,” she said. She glanced at Tina. “Tina is glad to be home too.”

Jenny laughed. “Oh, Mouse, I know what you mean. You see,” she explained to Erich, “it’s a little place but we love it.”

“I can see why. It’s very pleasant.”

“Well, don’t look too hard,” Jenny said. “The management is letting it run down. The building is going co-op so they’re not spending any more money on it now.”

“Are you going to buy your apartment?”

Jenny began to unzip Tina’s snowsuit. “I haven’t a prayer. It will cost seventy-five thousand dollars, if you can believe it, for this room. We’ll just hang in till they evict us and then find someplace else.”

Erich picked up Beth. “Let’s get out of those heavy clothes.” Quickly he unfastened her jacket, then said, “Now we’ve got to make up our minds. I’ve invited myself to dinner, Jenny. So if you have plans for the evening, kick me out. Otherwise point me to a supermarket.”

They stood up together and faced each other. “Which is it, Jenny,” he asked, “the supermarket or the door?”

She thought she detected a wistful note in the question. Before she could answer, Beth tugged at his leg. “You can read to me if you want,” she invited.

“That settles it,” Erich said decisively. “I’m staying. You have nothing more to say about it, Mommy.”

Jenny thought, He really wants to stay. He honestly wants to be with us. The realization sent unexpected waves of delight through her. “There’s no need to go shopping,” she told him. “If you like meatloaf we’re in great shape.”

She poured Chablis, then turned on the evening news for him while she bathed and fed the children. He read a story to them while she prepared dinner. As she set the table and made a salad she stole glances at the couch. Erich was sitting, one little girl under each arm, reading The Three Bears with appropriate histrionics. Tina began to doze and quietly he pulled her on his lap. Beth listened rapturously, her eyes never leaving his face. “That was very, very good,” she announced when he finished. “You read almost as good as Mommy.”

He lifted one eyebrow to Jenny, smiling triumphantly.

After the children were in bed they ate at the dinette table that overlooked the garden. The snow in the yard was still white. The bare-limbed trees glistened in the reflection of the lights from the house. Thick, high evergreens almost hid the fence that separated the property from the adjacent yards.

“You see,” Jenny explained, “country within the city. After the girls are settled, I linger over coffee here and imagine I’m gazing at my acreage. Turtle Bay, about ten blocks uptown, is a beautiful area. The brownstones have magnificent gardens. This is sort of mock turtle bay but I’ll be very sorry when moving day arrives.”

“Where will you go?”

“I’m not sure but I’ve got six months to worry about it. We’ll find something. Now how about coffee?”

The bell rang. Erich looked annoyed. Jenny bit her lip. “It’s probably Fran from upstairs. She’s between boyfriends now and pops in to visit every couple of nights.”

But it was Kevin. He filled the doorway, boyishly handsome in his expensive ski sweater, a long scarf casually knotted over his shoulder, his dark red hair well-barbered, his face evenly tanned.

“Come in, Kevin,” she said, trying not to sound exasperated. Timing, she thought. By heaven, he’s got it.

He strode into the room, kissing her quickly. She felt suddenly embarrassed, knowing Erich’s eyes were on them.

“Kids in bed, Jen?” Kevin asked. “Too bad. I was hoping to see them. Oh, you have company.”

His voice changed, became formal, almost English. Ever the actor, Jenny thought. The former husband meeting the ex-wife’s new friend in a drawing-room comedy. She introduced the men and they nodded to each other without smiling.

Kevin apparently decided to lighten the atmosphere. “Smells good in here, Jen. What have you been cooking?” He examined the stove top. “My word, what a fancy meatloaf.” He sampled it. “Excellent. I can’t imagine why I let you get away from me.”

“It was a dreadful mistake,” Erich said, his voice chipped with ice.

“It surely was,” Kevin agreed easily. “Well, look I won’t delay. Just thought I’d pop by on my way past. Oh, Jen, could I speak with you outside for a minute?”

She knew exactly why he wanted to speak with her. It was payday. Hoping Erich wouldn’t notice she slipped her purse under her arm as she went out to the foyer. “Kev, I really haven’t… ”

“Jen, it’s just that going overboard for Christmas for you and the kids left me short. My rent is due and the landlord is getting nasty. Just lend me thirty dollars for a week or so.”

“Thirty dollars. Kevin, I can’t.”

“Jen, I need it.”

Reluctantly she took out her wallet. “Kevin, we’ve got to talk. I think I’m going to lose my job.”

Quickly he took the bills. Stuffing them in his pocket, he turned toward the outside door. “That old joker would never let you go, Jen. He knows a good thing when he has it. Call his bluff and strike for a raise. He’ll never hire anyone for what he’s paying you. You’ll see.”

She went back into the apartment. Erich was clearing the table, running water in the sink. He picked up the pan with the remaining meatloaf and walked over to the garbage can.

“Hey, hold it,” Jenny protested. “The kids can have that tomorrow night for dinner.”

Deliberately he dumped it out. “Not after that actor-ex of yours touched it they won’t!” He looked directly at her. “How much did you give him?”

“Thirty dollars. He’ll pay me back.”

“You mean to say you allow him to walk in here, kiss you, joke about abandoning you and breeze out with your money to spend at some expensive bar?”

“He’s short on his rent.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Jenny; how often does he pull that? Every payday, I suppose.”

Jenny smiled wearily. “No, he missed one last month. Look, Erich, please leave those dishes. I can do them myself.”

“You’ve got far too much work to do as it is.”

Silently Jenny picked up a towel. Why had Kevin chosen just this evening to walk in? What a fool she was to hand him money.

The rigid disapproval in Erich’s face and stance began to ease. He took the towel from her hands. “That’s enough of that,” he smiled.

He poured wine into fresh glasses and brought it over to the couch. She sat beside him, keenly aware of a deep but vague intensity about him. She tried to analyze her feelings and could not. In a little while Erich would leave. Tomorrow morning he was going back to Minnesota. Tomorrow night at this time she’d be here by herself again. She thought of the happiness on the children’s faces when Erich read to them, the blessed relief she’d felt when he appeared beside her and took Beth from her. Lunch and dinner had been such fun, as though by his very presence he could dispel worry and loneliness.