Ella dropped a quarter into the pay phone on East Ninety-fourth and Madison.
Hugh Underhill picked up. The Asian equities sales desk shared the same extension so clients never had to wait.
“Your buddy stepped out to grab a sandwich,” he said. “Should I tell her you phoned?”
Ella shook her head no, then remembered to speak. She said good-bye and got off abruptly, then phoned her father’s office.
Sharlene, the office manager, told her that he was doing an emergency surgery, but he’d be free in an hour or two. “Why don’t you stop by, honey?” she asked. “Surprise him.” And Ella said she would try her best.
Ella walked up the block. Her father would be happy for her, she thought. He’d never thought she should quit her job at St. Christopher’s anyway. Ted would be angry. There was nothing he could say, though. He was hardly around. When they got married, he’d said he wanted five or six kids. Three Teds and three Ellas. That was the joke. But Ella no longer wanted any more children with this man. Compared with her father, Ted was inferior. He was never home, and she didn’t believe him anymore when he said he was working. Privately, she was relieved when he didn’t come home.
The herpes had turned out to be nothing, really. She hadn’t experienced an outbreak since it was diagnosed. Dr. Reeson gave her a look like “I told you so” when Ella brought it up at the last appointment. And Irene was in perfect health. All that pointless worrying. Thank God. But Ella no longer trusted Ted, and in her mind, he had done so little to make her feel reassured or to recover any lost ground. As though she weren’t worth the trouble. When they were together, they were polite to each other. In fact, Ted spoke more carefully to her than he ever had. He almost never raised his voice anymore or made her cry. They hadn’t made love since Ella was six months pregnant. That would make nine months, Ella toted up in her head. Not that she missed it. But it couldn’t be good for a marriage. When she told Casey this, she mentioned seeing a marriage counselor, but even Casey had to admit that Ted would never go to a shrink. That was for crazy people.
Ella walked briskly, ignoring the shop windows. She had no wish to buy anything for herself or for the house. Ted had given Laurie a credit card, so she did most of the shopping for Irene. Laurie frowned on fancy clothes for infants. “A complete waste of money, and it only serves the mother’s vanity. The child has no idea what she’s wearing. For stunted mothers who liked their dolls too much. The worst offenders, naturally, are working mothers who like to have well-dressed children to assuage their guilt.” All this reserve of opinion had gushed out of Laurie like a broken spigot when Ella mentioned casually that she wasn’t fond of buying clothes. Sometimes, Ella thought, Laurie believed that biological mothers were useless.
She was close to her father’s office, but he wouldn’t be there for another hour or so. Sharlene would be happy to see her, but she had enough work for two people, and she never let you help her. If she had something to read, she could go to the Austrian bakery. Her father used to bring her there as a girl when she came to his office on Saturday mornings.
It smelled wonderful in there. The woman Ella knew wasn’t working today. In her place behind the display counter was a reedy woman with dark circles under her eyes. She had pretty brown eyes.
Ella asked her for a box of pastries and began selecting a dozen assortment. The woman’s plastic tongs automatically grabbed the items Ella pointed to: fancy pastries filled with custards, fruit jams, and whipped cream, crullers, homemade jelly doughnuts. The woman expertly tied up the white paper box with a candy cane–striped string. Ella asked her for a cup of elderberry tea, then paid the woman. The bakery had two empty chairs and a table, but she didn’t want anyone to see her eating.
When she stepped out of the bakery onto the street, a light breeze brushed against her face. Carnegie Hill always looked so spruced up and tidy, and standing on East Ninety-fourth and Madison, Ella felt horribly ashamed that all she wanted was to find a private spot to eat everything in the box and swallow big gulps of her sweet-smelling tea. But where could she go? If she returned to her apartment, Laurie might find her. Ella looked around and saw David walking right in her direction.
“Hey,” he said, “fancy meeting—”
“Hi. I was going to bring these to my father, but he’s busy in an emergency surgery—”
“My. Aren’t we good children!” David held up the sandwich and Fritos he’d bought for his mother.