“All right, enough for now. Where should I put my suitcase?”
Beth led Lily into a small bedroom with a double bed, its iron frame painted white. Lily recognized the quilt her parents had given her sister when she’d left for New York. She heaved her suitcase onto the bed and retrieved the laudanum.
Later, Lily and Beth lay on the bed listening to the night noises: laughter, shouts, curses, tires screeching, horns honking. “This is nighttime in New York,” Beth said.
Lily tucked the threadbare blanket under her head and said, “I can’t believe you brought this horrid old relic of your childhood to New York!”
Beth laughed in response. Then Lily asked, “What happens when Mac’s friend comes over?”
“I stay for a while and then leave discreetly.”
“Neither of us likes each other’s noises.”
They both laughed.
Once Beth had fallen asleep, Lily curled herself around her. She lay awake listening to Beth’s rhythmic breathing, then pulled the blanket from under her head and tucked it around her sister.
In the early morning, Lily unwound herself from Beth and slipped out of bed. She put on Beth’s red satin dressing gown, another going-away gift from her parents. The dressing gown reminded Lily of her parents, and she wondered again what she would tell them when she returned. She knew she couldn’t say anything about Beth’s abortion. Lily’s mood darkened at the thought of it.
Beth came into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. “I thought you might have gone back home,” she said, with a panicked expression.
“You know I wouldn’t walk out on you. But I haven’t changed my mind about the abortion. It’s a dumb idea.”
“Lily, let’s not bicker. I’m starved!” Beth opened the icebox door and an odour of uncomplimentary smells wafted out. Dill pickles, chocolate and caramel sauce, sliced onions, Polish sausage, russet apples, and hard cheese were stored in jars, plastic plates, or bits of paper on the upper shelf. A glass container marked Mac sat on the bottom rack. Beth piled onion slices on a plate and covered them with the chocolate. Lily’s brown eyes became owl-like as her sister gobbled the onions and chocolate sauce.
“Are you having cravings?” she asked, screwing her nose up in disgust, and they laughed. Then Beth clasped her hand over her mouth and rushed to the toilet. Lily put her hand on her own mouth hearing Beth heaving in the bathroom. She had a weak stomach at the best of times.
A couple of minutes later, she heard Beth flushing the toilet and brushing her teeth. She reappeared looking perfectly composed.
“Is there someplace nearby where I can eat normal food?” Lily groaned.
“There’s a cheap diner down the street called Dingley Place. People know me at the diner, so please don’t mention the abortion.” Beth narrowed her eyes, and for a brief moment Lily recalled Beth’s face when she was being unkind.
The morning was cooler than when she had stepped out of the taxi the evening before. Older residents were sitting on steps or parked on chairs they had dragged to the sidewalk.
“Hi, Beth. Who’s the friend?” A plump, olive-skinned lady sat with her feet well apart to keep her fleshy thighs cool as she shelled peas into a bowl on her lap. She smiled broadly when Beth indicated that Lily was her sister. The lady had perfect false teeth.
“This is Signora Bumbacco,” Beth said with an exaggerated Italian accent. “She’s the building super, and she makes the best calzone in America.”
“I make some for the dinner tonight?”
The elderly woman took Lily’s hand and gave it a little shake. Lily returned her smile with a knot in her stomach, as she remembered that after dinner there would be an abortion. In a flash of panic, she hoped she wouldn’t faint during the procedure.
“We both have dates tonight,” Beth said.
Signora Bumbacco gave Lily an appraising look and grinned. “I bring the calzone early?”
“That would be nice. I love calzone,” Beth said.
At the diner, Lily ordered coffee and cinnamon toast, and Beth asked for an egg, sunny-side up, and hot chocolate. “I promise I’ll hold this down.”
“I hope so!”
“Women are so free in New York,” Lily said, glancing around. “Mom would go shopping alone, but she’d never sit alone in a diner. And women smoke in public! Beth, return to New York if you want after the birth, but please come home first.” She leaned close. “If you still want to date men who will pay for your apartment, then Dad has things at the pharmacy that you can get with a doctor’s order. You just have to say you’re married. Or I can filch a few.”
“You mean condoms,” Beth whispered.
“Exactly. You never want to go through this again!”
Beth’s expression darkened. She looked around the diner and shrugged. “It’s a man’s world, Lily. You and I grew up with Dad. He’s the anomaly. Let’s get off the abortion. Tell me about you.”
Lily regaled her sister with tales about her year in Truro, opting to concentrate on the lighter stories. She admitted to being spurned by James Barnaby, who preferred medicine to girls. They reminisced about high-school experiences. Recalling the story of Ed Parsons looking under the washroom door, they both laughed. It was the first time Lily had seen a true smile on her sister’s face since she’d arrived. She was glad she had put their rancour behind her and come to New York when asked.
After they’d paid their bill, the two sisters headed to a nearby park, where they threw peanuts to grey, black, and brown squirrels until one got too aggressive and hopped on Lily’s purse. She shook off the pesky animal with a little shriek. Then the squirrel landed up on Beth’s bag and she dropped it, jumping aside. They grabbed their handbags and hurried out of the park, laughing.
They walked twenty blocks to the theatre where Beth was to have had a small part before the mayor of New York objected to the play. “When the manager tried to argue that the Girl with the Whooping Cough was not an obscene play, the mayor closed the theatre,” Beth said. “I hope to have a part in the next production here.”
They returned in the late afternoon to find that while they had been exploring, Signora Bumbacco had deposited the calzone in Beth’s icebox. She had also wiped down the icebox and thrown out the food that had gone bad.
“Not everyone on the street gets calzone from the matriarch of the street,” Beth said, pulling it out of the icebox. She poked at the crust to inspect the filling.
“I don’t think you should eat if you’re going to be anesthetized,” Lily said.
“Who says she’s going to put me out? All it takes is nerve, a coat hanger, water, and heat.” Beth looked her sister in the eye with bravado and then added, “Lily, I’m scared. That’s why I underlined ‘please come.’ You have the nerve. You’ve always been stronger than me. Now, let me eat a bit and stop treating this as though it’s the Last Supper.”
Lily
