Mary Clark - A Cry In The Night

“Jenny.” His voice was tender. “What are you thinking?”

She tried to smile. “I don’t think I was thinking. I was… just content, I suppose.”

“And I don’t know when I’ve been this content. Jenny, you’re sure you’re not still in love with Kevin MacPartland.”

She was astonished enough to laugh. “Good Lord, no.”

“Then why are you so willing to give him money?”

“A misguided feeling of responsibility, I suppose. The worry that maybe he does need his rent.”

“Jenny, I have an early flight tomorrow morning. But I can get back to New York for the weekend. Are you free on Friday night?”

He was coming back to see her. The same delicious sense of relief and pleasure that had been hers when he suddenly appeared on Second Avenue filled her. “I’m free. I’ll find a sitter.”

“How about Saturday? Do you think the children would enjoy going to the Central Park Zoo if it isn’t too cold? And then we could take them to Rumpelmayer’s for lunch.”

“They’d love it. But, Erich, really…”

“I’m not only sorry I can’t just stay in New York for a while. But I’ve got a meeting in Minneapolis about some investments I’m planning to make. Oh, may I…?”

He had spotted the photo album on the shelf under the cocktail table.

“If you wish. It’s not terribly exciting.”

They sipped wine as he inspected the book. “That’s me being picked up at the children’s home,” she told him. “I was adopted. Those are my new parents.”

“They’re a nice-looking young couple.”

“I don’t remember them at all. They were in an automobile accident when I was fourteen months old. After that it was just Nana and me.”

“Is that a picture of your grandmother?”

“Yes. She was fifty-three when I was born. I remember when I was in the first grade and came home with a long face because the kids were making Father’s Day cards and I didn’t have a father. She said, ‘Listen, Jenny, I’m your mother, I’m your father, I’m your grandmother, I’m your grandfather. I’m all you need. You make me a card for Father’s Day!’”

She felt Erich’s arm around her shoulders. “No wonder you miss her so.”

Hurriedly Jenny went on: “Nana worked in a travel agency. We took some terrific trips. See, here we are in England. I was fifteen. This is our trip to Hawaii.”

When they came to the pictures of her wedding to Kevin, Erich closed the album. “It’s getting late,” he said. “You must be tired.”

At the door he took both her hands in his and held them to his lips. She had kicked off her boots and was in her stocking feet. “Even this way you are so like Caroline,” he said, smiling. “You look tall in heels and quite small without them. Are you a fatalist, Jenny?”

“What is to be will be. I suppose I believe that.”

“That will do.” The door closed behind him.

At exactly eight o’clock the phone rang. “How did you sleep, Jenny?”

“Very well.” It was true. She had drifted off to sleep in a kind of euphoric anticipation. Erich was coming back. She would see him again. For the first time since Nana’s death she did not wake up around dawn with the sickening feeling of heavyhearted pain.

“I’m glad. So did I. And I might add I enjoyed some very pleasant dreams. Jenny, starting this morning, I’ve arranged for a limousine to come for you and the girls at eight-fifteen. He’ll take them to the day-care center and you to the gallery. And he’ll pick you up evenings at ten after five.”

“Erich, that’s impossible.”

“Jenny, please. It’s such a little thing for me. I simply can’t be worrying about you struggling with those babies in this weather.”

“But, Erich!”

“Jenny, I have to run. I’ll call you later.”

At the day-care center Mrs. Curtis was elaborately pleasant. “Such a distinguished boyfriend you have, Mrs. MacPartland. He phoned this morning. And I want you to know that you don’t have to transfer the children. I think we just need to get to know each other better and give them a chance to settle in. Isn’t that right, girls?”

He called her at the gallery. “I just landed in Minneapolis. Did the car get there?”

“Erich, it was a blessing. Not having to rush the girls out made such a difference. Whatever did you say to Mrs. Curtis? She was oozing sweetness and light.”

“I’ll bet she was. Jenny, where do you want to eat Friday night?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Choose a restaurant that you’ve always wanted to try… someplace you’ve never been with anyone else.”

“Erich, there are thousands of restaurants in New York. The ones on Second Avenue and Greenwich Village are my speed.”

“Have you ever been to Lutèce?”

“Good Lord, no.”

“Fine. We’ll eat there Friday night.”

In a daze Jenny got through the day. It didn’t help to have Mr. Hartley repeatedly comment how taken Erich had been with her. “Love at first sight, Jenny. He’s got it.”

Fran, the flight attendant who lived in apartment 4E of the brownstone, dropped in that evening. She was consumed with curiosity. “I saw that gorgeous guy in the foyer last night. I figured he had to have been here. And you have a date with him Friday. Wow!”

She volunteered to mind the girls for Jenny. “I’d love to meet him. Maybe he has a brother or a cousin or an old college pal.”

Jenny laughed. “Fran, he’ll probably think this through and call to tell me to forget it.”

“No, he won’t.” Fran shook her tightly curled head. “I’ve got a hunch.”

The week dragged. Wednesday. Thursday. And then miraculously it was Friday.

Erich came for her at seven-thirty. She had decided to wear a long-sleeved dress she’d bought on sale. The gold locket was set off by the oval neckline and its center diamond gleamed brilliantly against the black silk. She had twisted her hair into a French braid.

“You’re lovely, Jenny.” He looked quietly expensive in a dark blue suit with a faint pinstripe, a dark blue cashmere coat, a white silk scarf.

She phoned Fran to come down, caught the amused gleam in Erich’s eye at Fran’s open approval.

Tina and Beth were enchanted with the dolls Erich had brought them. Jenny looked at the beautiful painted faces on the dolls, the eyelids that opened and closed, the dimpled hands, the curling hair and compared them with the shabby gifts Kevin had chosen for Christmas.

She caught Erich’s frown as she handed him her well-worn thermal coat and for a moment wished that she’d accepted Fran’s suggestion that she borrow her fur jacket. But Nana always told her not to borrow.

Erich had hired a limousine for the evening. She leaned back against the upholstery and he reached for her hand. “Jenny, I’ve missed you. These were the longest four days of my life.”

“I’ve missed you too.” It was the simple truth but she wished she hadn’t sounded so fervent.

In the restaurant she glanced around at the other tables, spotting celebrity faces.

“Why are you smiling, Jenny?” Erich asked.

“Culture shock. Jet lag from one life-style to another. Do you realize not one person in this room is even aware of Mrs. Curtis’ Day Care Center.”

“Let’s hope not.” His eyes had a look of amused tenderness.

The waiter poured champagne. “You were wearing that locket the other day, Jenny. It’s quite lovely. Did Kevin give it to you?”

“No. It was Nana’s.”

He leaned across the table; his slender, sculptured fingers entwined around hers. “I’m glad. Otherwise it would have been bothering me all night. Now I can enjoy seeing it on you.”