Authors: Florence Osmund
Daughters (15 page)
“When does Maurice get back, by the way?” Marie asked.
Karen tried to stifle a smile. “Tomorrow.”
Marie shot her a teasing look.
“Stop it.”
“How’s it going with you two these days? You haven’t said two words about him since we’ve been back.”
“Everything’s good.”
“That’s all? Just good?”
“Yeah.”
Marie smiled. “You’re hiding something.”
“Am not.” Karen reached for her purse.
“What are you getting?”
Karen put her purse back down. “Nothing.”
“You’ve got chocolate in there, don’t you?”
“Maybe.”
“Every time we talk about Maurice, you start eating chocolate!”
“No, I don’t.”
“There’s more going on between you two than you’re letting on, isn’t there?”
“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything, because I don’t know if he would even appreciate my saying anything…but, well, I met his mother.”
“And?”
“Well…”
“What’s wrong?”
“She’s…well, she’s the worst hypochondriac on the face of the earth. Maurice didn’t even want for us to meet, ever, but when we came back to his house one day after dinner, she was sitting on his front porch, crying.”
“Why was she crying?”
“I forget exactly. Something about a pimple on her cheek that she was convinced was going to eat all the flesh off her face.”
“Really.”
“It gets worse. After Maurice calmed her down, which took all evening I might add, she talked nonstop about all her illnesses. He put her to bed in his spare room, and she spent the night, but not before doing his laundry.”
“She does his laundry?”
“Not all the time, only when she comes over. And only when it’s her time of the month.”
“You’re making this up.”
“Do I look like I could make this up? And wait, there’s more. When he was young, she had such huge fears about what she fed him, because she thought she was going to kill him, that he ended up losing all his teeth because of bad nutrition.”
“What?”
“I’m not kidding. All his teeth are false. The man wears dentures, which he probably puts in a glass next to his bed each night.” Karen made a face, like she had just bitten into a sour grape.
“No wonder he never smiles. So does this change things between you two?”
“I’m trying not to think about it.”
Karen spent New Year’s Eve with Maurice. Marie spent it alone. But not having been a big fan of New Year’s Eve since being married, Marie wasn’t disappointed. She needed the alone time.
On New Year’s Day, Marie drove to the home of Doretha Scott, the woman she had met at the library. She parked her car and walked up the crumbling walk to her front door. Doretha was standing in the window with a somber look on her face, shaking her head. Marie knew she was advising her to leave. She held up the book she had bought for her. Doretha kept shaking her head. Marie made sure Doretha saw her put the book on the porch and then left.
As she drove away, people came out of their homes and onto their porches, giving her icy stares. Then, without warning, something hard hit her back windshield. She sped up until she reached the outskirts of the colored neighborhood and the beginning of more familiar territory, where she pulled off the road, put her car in park, and wept.
She was just trying to be a friend. And under different circumstances, but perhaps in some other world, she knew Doretha would have liked to have been a friend back.
Two weeks later, Marie received a phone call from attorney, Michael Cavanaugh.
“I’m afraid I don’t have great news for you, Marie.”
“Oh?”
“I consulted with my partner about the Indiana anti-miscegenation laws. He’s much more familiar with them than I am. Whether or not Richard would be found guilty of violating this law would likely depend on when he found out about your ethnicity, and even if he did know of it when the two of you were still together, it wouldn’t be a cut-and-dried case. There’s no case law in Indiana for a situation like yours, where you yourself didn’t know your ethnicity.”
“So where does that leave us?”
“Your options as I see them are to either file for divorce based on his felony conviction, wait out the seven-year statute of limitation for the involuntary dissolution of your marriage, or try to get the marriage voided under the anti-miscegenation law in Indiana.”
“What are you recommending?”
“The least amount of risk lies with the seven-year statute of limitation for estrangement. But, of course, that’s also the option with the greatest constraints; you would be legally married for another five and a half years. Trying to get the marriage voided under the anti-miscegenation law, in my opinion, comes with the greatest amount of risk, since there is no relevant case law.”
“So you’re recommending filing for divorce based on his felony conviction?”
“I’ll represent you under any of the three scenarios, but yes, I would say that’s the way to go. Keeping in mind, of course, that the conviction came after you left him. The judge will likely take that into consideration.”
Marie thought sending Richard to jail for marrying her would be unscrupulous and just plain wrong, no matter what he had done to her in the past. And while it appeared to be the easy way out, waiting five and a half more years to meet the statute of limitation requirement was too restricting. She called her father the next day to discuss it.
“I’m leaning toward divorcing him based on his felony conviction.”
“Whatever you decide, I’ll support you on it, Marie. But I have to tell you it would be quite satisfying to see…well, you know how I feel about him.”
“Yes, Dad. I know.”
She and Karen talked about it over dinner the next evening. “If you decide to go ahead with it, how do you think he’ll react when he finds out?” Karen asked.
“Well, let’s see. The last time I saw him was when he showed up at Lulu’s. He was still wearing his wedding band. He told me he still loved me. He begged me to come back to him, and when I didn’t acquiesce, he threatened to do something to Jonathan. So how do you think he’ll take it?”
“So maybe you’d rather wait the five and a half years and play it safe?”
Marie took in a deep breath. “I don’t know what I want to do. But I just remembered something else Richard said that day.”
“What’s that?”
“Somehow I got up enough nerve to tell him I wasn’t attracted to him anymore, and do you know what he said to me?”
Karen shook her head.
“He said as soon as any other man finds out who I really am, he’ll throw me away like a piece of moldy fruit.”
“Eewww!”
“He also told me I could move to another country and he’d find me.”
“Don’t know, hon. I’d let sleeping dogs lie if I were you.”
“Well, I don’t have to make a decision right away. Maybe I’ll think about it some more.”
For the next few weeks, Marie was unable to think about little other than what to do about her marriage to Richard, and what transpired on the trip she took to New York the following month delayed her decision even further.
The American Institute of Decorators had invited Marie to sit on their board the previous year, which meant she had to attend semi-annual three-day meetings in New York. She invited Karen to join her for the February meeting. They stayed at the Algonquin.
“Richard and I spent many nights here,” she told Karen through a sigh. She let her mind wander for a few seconds to the good times.
“Nice hotel. But of all the hotels you could have picked for this trip, why did you pick this one?”
“I don’t know. Maybe to show I’m not afraid of him anymore.”
“Show who?”
“Mostly me, I guess.”
The two women headed for Fifth Avenue after settling in. Too shocked over the prices to buy anything, Karen stuck to window shopping. Marie bought a silk scarf and bottle of French perfume not available in Atchison. “So this is the type of life you and Richard had?” Karen asked. “Trips to New York and spending lots of money?”
“He had very expensive taste. If I was here with him this trip, I would probably go home with at least one piece of jewelry from Tiffany’s and perfume twice as expensive as the one I just bought. He might have gone back with a new fedora, several silk ties, and maybe a new suit. On one trip he bought us matching fur coats!”
“Must have been nice. And he made that kind of money selling medical equipment?”
“That was all I knew about. I’m sure there were other ways he made money.”
“Probably better you didn’t know about the other stuff.”
“As I’ve said before, the good times were
very
good.” Marie opened the door to their hotel room. The distinctive scent of roses drifted out to greet them. Marie took a step back when she saw the huge bouquet sitting on the coffee table. “What the…?”
Karen walked around her. “Gee, do they do this for all their guests?”
“No.” Marie inched over to the flowers and noticed a white envelope perched in between two of the stems. “Marie” was written on it. “It’s from him.”
“Who him?”
“Richard.”
Karen pursed her lips. “How do you know?”
Marie stared at the envelope.
“Aren’t you going to read the card?”
“No.”
Karen walked around to Marie’s side of the table. “Want me to read it?”
“No.” Marie sat down on the sofa and stared at the flowers. She picked up the envelope and crumpled it in her fist. “I hate him.”
“May not even be from him.”
Her mouth was rigid. “Oh, it’s from him alright.”
“How would he even know you’re here?”
“I don’t know. He has spies.”
Karen shot her a twisted smile. “Marie, you’re being silly.”
Marie dropped the crumpled envelope on the table and went into the bathroom. When she emerged several minutes later, she slumped down in one of the upholstered chairs near the window overlooking 44
th
Street. She threw her head back.
“You okay?”
“Yes, I’m okay,” she said through a sigh. She stared at the opened envelope on the table. “It’s from him, right?”
“Yeah. He said happy anniversary. Is it your wedding anniversary?”
She thought for a moment. “What’s the date today?”
“Fifteenth.”
“Three-year anniversary.”
“I can’t get over the fact he knew you were here.”
Marie glanced at her friend, stood up, and then stared out the window. “It doesn’t surprise me.”
“Think he’s here too? Or did he just have the flowers sent to you?”
“I don’t know. Let me see the note.” Karen handed it to her. “It’s not his handwriting, but that doesn’t mean he’s not here. If he is, he’ll show his face somewhere.”
“What makes me nervous about that note is where he says how nice it is to see you again. What do you think he meant by that?”
“I don’t know. Could be nothing. Just a scare tactic.”
“What if you run into him?”
“I can handle Richard.” She put her hands on her hips. “In fact, I hope I do run into him. I’d like for him to know just how not afraid of him I am.”
Karen glared at her friend’s face for several seconds. “I hope you know what you’re doing, hon.”
