It's Just Lola (50 page)

“Do you expect this to change?  If not, you
are
deluding yourself that you aren’t abandoning them
.
”

“I have inherited resources worth a great deal of money.  Unfortunately, the inheritance is in South America with my brother-in-law, but I intend to hire an attorney to help me.  Once I have these resources in addition to my salary, I’ll be able to support them properly.  I
don’t know
how long it may take, but I
am certain there will be more than
enough to provide a decent home.”

“
For
you
r sake, I hope you succeed.  Now
tell me the reason you brought them here today,” said the nun gently.  “Your children don
’
t look hungry.  Are you less able to provide for them today than you were yesterday?”

Lola nodded, no longer
able to
hold back her sob
s
.  Bit by bit the story came out in disconnected phrases
in
jumbled chronology.  Lola’s fear of not being able to control her anger and violence made her body tremble again. 

“Sister, I swear
before the Blessed Virgin that I
’
ve never cheated on my husband.  I
’
ve never even had a carnal thought about another man. 
His anger and violence gets worse all the time.  Either he will kill me in his anger, or I’ll kill him trying to defend myself.  Either way, my children will be orphaned as a result. 
I need to get my children out of this toxic environment of insane jealousy and hair-trigger violent tempers.
 
If I stay with my husband something terrible will happen, and we may both lose our immortal souls.  Yet if I leave him, I cannot feed my children. 
This is the only
choice
I can make for my children
.”
  Although Lola was afraid of possibly venting her anger on the children, she did not mention it to the nun. 

“Very well, we
’
ll take your children.  I can see you are tortured by your decision.  May I suggest that you spend time each day in prayer and meditation?”  Lola nodded.

“I
’
ll call Sister Agnes to show
them
to their rooms.  You may visit them after Mass on Sundays.  When you
’
re able, you may take them for day trips
or weekends
.  You may take them home when you
’
re
able
.”

Lola went into the hallway to spend a final few minutes with her children before they were collected by Sister Agnes. 
Nellie was standing by a window
,
watching children playing in the schoolyard.  She sent Harry to see what his sister was watching, and sat beside Charlotte.  She explained that the school was a boarding school and they would live with other children.

“I don’t want to live with other children.  I want to stay with you.”

“And I want you all to stay with me.  You’re old enough to understand that Pop
Wulf
and I haven’t been getting along very well.  I’m afraid something bad might happen if we stay together. 
It’
s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I have to leave
him
.”

“Why can’t we
all
leave together?”

“As soon as I get enough money to find a place, I promise we’ll be together.  I promise.  Now let me say good-bye to Nellie and Harry.”  She kissed Charlotte on the forehead and brushed the tears from her cheeks.  “Be brave for them.”

Lola walked to the window and put her arms around
her
youngest children.  She told them they would be living at the school so they could play with the other children every day.  Nellie was excited about having other girls to play with.  Harry just looked at his mother.  “You can write letters to me, and I’ll write back.  Won’t that be fun?”

“I’m not a good speller,” said Nellie.

“That’s okay.  I’ll know what you mean.”

“I can’t write,” said Harry.

“
Y
ou can draw pictures for me.  I’ll draw pictures for you, too.  I’ll send you funny pictures.” 

She gave them one last kiss as Sister Agnes appeared. 
Blinded by tears, Lola made her way down the street.

Sundays became the focus of Lola’s life.  The few hours she could spend with her children kept her sane in her loneliness.  She took a room at the YWCA and walked an hour each day to and from work to save the bus fare.  She hoarded money as she had never hoarded money before, barely eating enough to stay alive. 
She wrote long impassioned letters to Juana begging her to speak to her husband.

Every day she thanked God that her children were healthy, and she prayed for them to have a brighter future.  Every evening she came home to the empty room and mourned
Wulf
.   She had trouble sleeping, and when she did sleep she dreamed of
Wulf
.  Her good dreams were of the jaunty young first mate that had worked his way into her heart during the long, perilous journey from Chile to Peru.  More often she had dreams of the thinner man with graying temples whose eyes burned with the effects of a soul broken by his imprisonment. 

One day her employer
, Beverly Ashton,
asked if she was ill.  That was the first touch of human kindness she had seen in months, and it opened the floodgates of her misery. 
She poured out the story of the stocks she had inherited and that her money had run out, and now she was unable to provide for her children. 

“Why don’t you go to a lawyer?” asked Mrs. Ashton.

“I did,” said Lola, trying to stem the flood of tears.  “He said that once I signed over the stocks
to my sister’s husband
, they belonged to him.”

“It sounds like you need another lawyer.”

Lola felt a stab of hope
.  Was it possible?  “But isn’t the law the law?  How can two lawyers have different answers?” 

“Isn’t a hat a hat?  How can one woman wear it well and another look ridiculous in the same hat?”  She got a paper and wrote an address on it.  “Here, take the afternoon off and go see this man.  He’s a friend of my father, and he’s semi-retired.  He keeps his office open for something to do and only takes cases that interest him.”

The lawyer’s office was part of his house with a separate entrance.  He listened to her story and asked a few questions.  His wife brought them coffee
, and as they spoke,
Lola felt
that she had finally found someone to trust
.

“There
’
s no question that he knows the stocks are yours.  Letters listing the stocks are ample proof of that.  Why hasn’t he sent you anything?  Do you suspect him of stealing them for himself?  Is this a criminal charge?”

“No, I don’t think so.  When I wanted the money to travel here, he insisted the stocks were rising too rapidly to sell.  He loaned me the
money from his personal funds.
”

“Then we
’
ll try to be discreet. 
If yo
ur sister and her husband were here
, it would be a simple matter.  The problem is the international aspect.  Your attorney would have to work with an attorney in South America, which raises costs considerably.  Even communication will be costly and time consuming. 
Even if I waive my fee, it will take
at least
five hundred dollars to handle this case
.
  Do you have that much?
”

“Five hundred?  I could get a car for that much.” 

“Yes, but not a good one—and certainly not an imported one.  Remember you must work through a lawyer in Peru.”  He refilled her cup.  “I’ll write a letter to his business address.  S
ometimes a letter from an attorney is enough to get the desired result.
  Come back every couple of weeks.  Even if we don’t have an answer, we can visit.”

Lola went home with a renewed sense of purpose.  She
haunted the bulletin board at the YWCA, looking for part-time work.  Most notices were for typists or domestic help, but she finally saw one that suited her—waitressing
at a place called Johnny’s
. 
She went to apply for the job right after the
hat
shop closed the next day
, praying that she wasn’t too late
. 

She spoke to a waitress and was told the job was already filled.  Lola turned to leave, her heart heavy with disappointment.

“Hey!”

“The boss,” whispered the waitress, with a small gesture indicating which man had spoken.  Lola turned toward the man.

“You lookin’ for a job?”  Lola nodded.  The man looked her up and down in a way that made her feel uncomfortable.  “You always dress this snazzy?” 

“Yes,” Lola
glanced
down at her
light brown suit, noting that the pleats were still perfectly pressed into the wool
. 
Today she had attached a dark green collar and cuffs
to the long straight jacket.  The narrow collar framed the ecru lace jabot and
matched the hat she
’
d bought with the first paycheck from the hat shop. 
What was it Estelle had said when she’d made this suit?  Either the bee’s knees or the elephant’s eyebrows.  Lola had trouble keeping up with the new slang. 
“I design hats and my customers must trust my sense of fashion.”

“Yeah?  Maybe it’s time
for
this joint
to get
a little class.  You wanna be a hostess?”

“I’m not familiar with the duties of a hostess.”

“You talk
swell, too
, and the accent’s kind of cute
.
”  Johnny
laughed and
briefly described the duties of a hostess.  It sounded simple enough
, and it was
. 
Her savings began to grow slowly.  After a few weeks, Johnny asked if she’d like to work
after the dinner hour.

“I thought you only served sandwiches and dessert after nine.”

“Yeah, but I got a back room for special customers.  You’re a class act up here,
so
I figure you’
ll
be a class act there, too.
  The pay’s a lot better.”  At nine Johnny led her through the kitchen to the back room.  The air was already cloudy with smoke, and Lola smelled the sharp odor of alcohol.

“It’s a speakeasy,” she said without thinking.

“What
’d
you expect?  A sewing club?” 
Lola didn’t know what she’d expected, maybe a fancy private dining room. 
Johnny
pointed
.  “
The
customers come in through that door.
  You find them a table, just like out front.  Then you leave the young bloods for the girls.  See that guy over there?”  He pointed to a well-dressed man sitting stiffly on his chair.  “Guys like that
’r
e trying it out; they’re not comfortable.  You just gotta sit and have a drink with ‘em. 
You dress classier than the girls.  It s
how
s
’em it’s all right for guys
with class
to come here
, too.”

“I don’t drink.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t waste booze on the help.  You get tea, and a cut of
what they pay for the drink
.
” 

Lola swallowed even though her mouth was dry.
 
She remembered the role that alcohol played in a bordello.  “What if he...misunderstands
what I do?” 

Johnny
pointed again
.  “
See that guy?
 
He
’s Vinnie.  Anybody gives you trouble, just get Vinnie.  Okay?” 
Lola wanted to say no and run home, but Johnny
had already moved away
.
  She’d
work tonight and
tell him tomorrow
that she couldn’t keep it up
.

It was after two when they closed the doors.  Johnny offered her a ride home.  Lola opened her mouth to refuse when one of the waitresses came up and put her arm around Johnny’s waist.  “Come on, Lola. 
You don’t want to be on the streets at this time, and i
t’ll be a
n
excuse for me to sit closer to Johnny.”  She
winked.  Lola
gratefully accepted. 

The next morning came all too soon.  As Lola dragged herself out of bed and got ready for work, she tried to decide how to tell Johnny she couldn’t work in an illegal establishment.  Then she looked at the
extra
five dollars in her purse
—a
nd that was just tips
.  She could save the five hundred in no time if she kept the job.  Illegal or not,
it was the only way she could see to reach her goal.