Portraits (12 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Freeman

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Portraits
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During his first marriage he had been taken into his father-in-law’s established jewelry business—not as a salesman, but as an elegant manager. Harry knew nothing whatsoever about gems or jewels, but in his case, it wasn’t necessary. His charm and polish, his ability to greet and handle the elite trade on an equal footing was his prime function. He had been raised in an affluent family who felt that a young man had to have a knowledge of art, be well-traveled and accomplished in literature to be suited to take his place in society. If Harry hadn’t been such an impulsive young man, these accomplishments might have secured his life’s future. As it was, after leaving his father-in-law’s business he was completely unprepared to make a living.

Harry and Molly went to Brussels, where Sara was born a little less than nine months later. Her father had relatives in Brussels who were in the business of manufacturing fine linens, and Harry prevailed on them to give him a job. While they didn’t condone what he had done they were people of compassion and they gave him a job. However, Harry was unaccustomed to menial labor and he lasted in the position for only a very short time. Then he went from one thing to another, barely making ends meet. As the larder grew bare, love and passion began to diminish, and both Molly and Harry found themselves greatly disappointed. Molly had only been a milliner and was surely not his equal intellectually, but she was more than equal when it came to the things she wanted out of life—and what she wanted was not to be poor. Harry, in his turn, had been captivated by Molly’s great beauty and thought she would give him the love and passion he’d never had in his previous marriage. Both were mistaken. Sara could still remember the violent argument that had ended with Molly shouting that she was through, that he’d ruined her life and her chances of meeting and marrying a rich man. She wanted a Jewish
get
; a divorce.

Since they had been married by an Orthodox rabbi, they did not have to concern themselves with the civil courts; rabbinical laws considered and ruled on divorce. After careful examination of every possible course, Molly and Harry’s marriage was terminated and they went their separate ways, Molly taking her belongings and her child and moving to a small hotel.

In the months that followed, Molly met a dapper, handsome man who wined and dined her, gave her extravagant gifts and was enormously fond of little Sara. Louie Carr was everything Molly wanted in a man, and especially in a husband. The only thing she found herself debating was Louie’s profession. He was a gambler. Very high-class, to be sure, but still it could be the Savoy today and the next day…Well, why worry about that? Louie was a master, a genius at his craft.

Soon they were married and lived luxuriously in the finest hotels, dined at the finest restaurants, bought the most expensive clothes and enjoyed the finest in theater. Louie indulged Molly and Sara shamefully and adored doing so. To Louie, money was good only for one thing—to spend…

After three months of wedded bliss, quite early one morning Louie entered their suite, put his pearl-gray felt fedora in the hall closet, walked into the small salon and poured a large brandy into the snifter. As he settled himself into the satin brocade chair, the mantel clock chimed. It was three in the morning.

A yawning Molly slipped out of bed and walked into the sittingroom. Louie looked up and smiled that roguish smile she found so irresistible. He got up and put his arms around her slim waist as she reached up to kiss him. He nibbled on her ear and whispered, “Did you miss me?”

“Of course. How did it go tonight, Louie?”

“Well, to be honest…I took a heavy loss at
chemin de fer
. But there are winning streaks and losing streaks.”

“I know tomorrow will be better.”

Taking her hand he led her to the settee. “Would you like a brandy?”

She tilted her head to one side and asked, “Why…do you think I need it?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, but he filled a glass for her, refilled his own and sat down next to her. Lifting his glass he said,
“L’chayim.”

“What are we drinking to?”

“To taking a trip.”

“Where and why?”

“The where is South Africa—Johannesburg to be exact—and the why is there’s a casino I can buy into. It also has an added bit of revenue…girls.”

“You mean a whorehouse?”

“Oh, Molly, that’s shameful,” Louie answered, shaking his head.

“So what would you call it?”

“A whorehouse with a gambling casino,” he answered with a laugh. “But very elegant, very exclusive.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You surprise me, Molly. I thought you were more worldly than that.”

“Worldly I am, but I’m not taking my child to a whorehouse.”

“I’ve thought about that too.”

“Really? You seem to have thought about a great many things.”

“Believe me, Molly, I have. Gambling isn’t a very secure way of living and there’s no real future in it. You see, it’s our future I’m concerned about. Here we have the opportunity to get into something—”

“What about Sara?”

“As I said before, I thought about it—a great deal, I might add.”

“And?”

“I think she should have the best. You know how much I love her…as though she were my own child.”

“Come to the point.”

“The point is, I think she should be put into the best boarding school money can buy.”

“I’m not putting my child into a boarding school. The answer is no.”

Her anger didn’t bother him a bit. Taking the glass from her hand, he took her in his arms, kissed her and held her close, as he explained his reasoning to her.

Molly thought seriously about it and somehow what he said did make sense. It wasn’t forever, Louie said. Girls from the best homes—rich homes—went to fine boarding schools, and she’d become a lady. If you loved your child, you made sacrifices. Besides, there was one other rather disturbing thing to consider; Louie told her he’d go without her, and then where would she and Sara be? He was trying the only way he knew to secure their future. With great reluctance she finally answered, “All right, Louie.” …

Sara was enrolled in one of the best schools, but for all the “advantages” she was terribly lonely and missed her mother and Louie. She often cried herself to sleep at night and her frequent letters to Molly always asked when they were coming to visit. It had already been two years since they’d promised, but unfortunately Louie’s plans had not matched his prophecies.

When Louie and Molly arrived in Johannesburg they had found that the casino was shabby and rundown, and it had taken a large chunk of Louie’s limited capital to refurbish the casino. By the time Louie was making a profit, the local constabulary had put a padlock on the door; gambling was one thing, but prostitution was another. Now without the added revenue of his voluptuous hostesses, Louie could barely survive—which left Molly sitting on the edge of the bed asking, “What are we going to do
now
?”

He sat in the chair opposite her with his hand cupped under his chin. When the answer was not forthcoming, Molly continued, “There’s nothing here for us, Louie. And besides, I haven’t seen Sara for two years. I can’t stand the pathetic letters, they tear me apart. Soon we won’t be able to keep sending money for the school anyway, so while we can still salvage something—sell. I want to go back.”

“I’ll raise the money to pay off the police…everyone can be bought off.”

“Don’t be foolish, Louie. Even if you could, they’d milk you for all you’ve got. Listen to me, sell the casino for whatever you can get.”

What the hell, Louie thought, she was right. Besides, owning a casino was not all it was cracked up to be. He still had his skill; that was something no one would take away from him. They could always go to Monte Carlo and he’d have no problem getting a job as a croupier. Dealers made money if they knew how—and Louie knew how. “All right, Molly, start packing.”

A smile broke across her face. It was the first time she had smiled with honesty in a long time. “When will we leave? I want to write Sara.”

“As soon as the casino is sold. As a matter of fact, I have someone who wants to buy. We won’t get what we put into it, but what the hell. I’ll make it up in no time at all.”

By now, Molly had heard that so often she paid little attention to his optimism. Besides, she was too happy at this moment to challenge him—she was going to see Sara…

When their steamer arrived in Brussels, Sara was waiting. Molly ran down the gangplank and grabbed her in her arms. Sara was now seven and she was beautiful. Louie’s prediction about Sara, at least, had been accurate. She was a poised, lady-like and mature child. In fact, it was difficult for Molly to believe Sara was so young; she spoke and acted like a grown-up.

If Molly was happy, Sara’s joy at seeing her mother and Louie was overwhelming. What excited her most of all was that she no longer had to go to that dreadful girls’ school; she was to live with mama and Louie in a grand hotel and she would attend a daily academy. She adored Louie. He was so gay, cheerful, devil-may-care, and always so elegant and impeccably groomed that Sara almost forgot he wasn’t royalty.

For the next few months Sara’s life was filled with every luxury, but best of all was that she was no longer lonely.

And then one day she returned to find Molly packing. “What are you doing?”

Molly looked at her for a moment, saw the frightened eyes and quickly pushed aside her own misgivings as she casually answered, “We’re moving.”

“We? Where are we going?” Sara asked haltingly.

“To an apartment,” Molly said, continuing to take things out of the closet.

“Why don’t we stay here?” Sara was close to tears.

“I don’t—hotels are not a place to make a home.” She wasn’t going to tell Sara that Louie was on a losing streak and that they were going to be evicted.

“But we’re going to live together? I mean, you’re not going to send me back—”

“Of course not, what a silly question.”

The adjustment was very difficult for Sara. She’d made friends at the girls’ academy, but now she would no longer be able to go to the birthday parties, and suddenly there were no more pretty party dresses. As glad as she was to be with Molly and Louie, they didn’t seem very happy. Molly couldn’t help but notice Sara’s troubled face, but she refused to dwell on whether Sara was disappointed with the shabby little bedroom she slept in or whether Louie thought the dingy apartment beneath his dignity. She had enough on her mind. Louie had become so compulsive in trying to recoup his gambling losses that they were now down to their last few dollars.

No question, Louie was definitely on his downers. The once charming devil-may-care Louie had become sullen. He complained constantly that Lady Luck was conspiring against him. He swore that never in his life had he encountered such a losing streak; it went beyond his comprehension. In the next few years they moved from one place to another, each cheaper than the last. Sara changed schools three times and became a very withdrawn, self-contained child…

At three o’clock in the morning, Louie climbed into bed, took the sleeping Molly in his arms and kissed her gently. She opened her eyes. At Louie’s amorous touch, she knew instantly his luck had turned.

After the passion had spent itself she said, still lying in his arms, “Well, one thing you didn’t lose is knowing how to make love.”

He laughed. “That I’ll never lose and another thing I won’t lose is my confidence.”

“Really? It seems to me that lately you haven’t been the Louie of old.”

He smiled in the dark. “So sue me. I’ve got a right to complain once in a while, but I’m not complaining anymore.”

“How much did you win?”

“A fortune.”

“How much?”

“Enough to buy you a beautiful new wardrobe and tickets to Monte Carlo.”

The announcement had far from the desired effect. Molly jumped out of bed and switched on the lamp. “When in hell is this moving around going to stop? I’m sick and tired of it and I can’t keep dragging Sara from one place to another, one school to—”

“Keep your voice down. Now, once and for all time, Molly, I make my living gambling. You knew it when we got married so don’t try to remake me. I am what I am…Do I make myself clear?”

There was a long silence as Molly stood there, staring at him. She was, in a way, frightened of him…he was a man she could not manipulate…he wasn’t Harry. Gradually the look on her face softened. “What about Sara, and what about Monte Carlo?”

“I’ll answer the last first. I’ve been offered the opportunity to manage one of the most exclusive casinos on the French Riviera, which is quite an honor—and you’ll be able to strut about like a queen. Now, I love you and I love Sara, but in my business a child is in the way. I feel very bad about that, as bad as you do…but facts are facts.”

She swallowed hard. “You mean we’ll have to send her to a boarding school?”

“No, not this time. At the moment all I have is enough to get us settled and buy you some new clothes.”

“And if I didn’t get the clothes would there—”

“No. I don’t have a year’s tuition—but later, absolutely.”

She sighed, knowing she had a real choice to make this time. Did she lose Louie for her child? She loved them both, but what would her life be without him? The sad truth was that children grew up and eventually one was left alone. Sara was already nine years old and before you could turn around she would be a young woman, ready to marry. Where would that leave Molly? She wasn’t getting younger and who would she ever find who compared with Louie? There were no alternatives, no more decisions, only capitulation and compromise. “All right, Louie…what do you suggest we do with Sara?”

He smiled at her, knowing how difficult the choices had been, and took her in his arms and kissed her. “You’re a sensible woman, Molly, and you won’t regret this. Now about Sara…What I think she needs is to live with a nice family.”

Molly thought for a long moment. The idea seemed reasonable. Sara would be in a wholesome atmosphere, would have the stability of familial surroundings—something she’d never really had. In fact, the idea even began to appeal to Molly…except where would they find such a place?

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