Chapter Forty-Five

 

Blanche went to her condo. She got a bottle of gin out of the cabinet and dumped the remainder of it into a pitcher with a carton of orange juice and the rest of the bottle of lemon juice, some ginger and sugar. Maybe the ginger would help the poor girl’s stomach to settle down too. She grabbed the pitcher and headed out to 209.

She knocked and heard movement behind the door.

“It’s me. It’s Blanche. Mirela, let me in.”

Mirela’s big blue eyes peaked out at her. “Blanche. I scared you are policeman.”

“What happened?” Blanche tried to appear innocent and not let on that Al had caused the visit or that she knew about it.

“He’s very good. He’s not be mean at all. Maybe when Mom’s safe I talk to him.”

“Yes, Mirela. Let’s talk to him. This week?”

“Maybe.” She was suddenly concentrating on her bare feet on the carpet and biting her lip.

“Yes, Mirela. Let’s do something to make this stop.”

“Maybe.”

Blanche had been tuned in to Alina all along but her sobs were growing louder. “What’s wrong with Alina?”

Mirela let her in and pointed to Alina in a heap on the floor of the living room. Blanche found two mismatched plastic cups and put some of her concoction in them and went and sat down on the floor by Alina. Blanche put the drink in front of Alina’s line of sight on the gray-blue carpet and sat and sipped her own while she listened to the woman’s shuddering breaths. Blanche had glimpsed a bedroom full of sleeping women on pallets as she’d passed through. They must all be taking the “vitamins.” They certainly didn’t have the energy to climb a balcony and slit a screened porch to rob someone. Only Mirela and Alina seemed to show any signs of life. Blanche saw no hint of Al’s things and hiding places were scarce in an apartment devoid of furniture. Surely, it wasn’t them.

After a while, Alina sat up and sipped the drink. After a slight gasp at the alcohol, she looked into the glass and downed it all. Blanche went to the kitchen without speaking and refilled it. She saw the dictionary on the counter and brought it in. Alina’s rough breaths interrupted the quiet. It was odd how hollow an apartment sounded without household goods.

After Alina downed the second drink in a few gulps. Blanche asked, “What happened?”

“My husband. He’s dead in,” she paused and looked in the dictionary, “prison.” Her face crinkled downward. “Cosmin.”

“I’m so sorry, Alina.” Blanche patted the girl’s arm. She knew from when Harry died everyone wants to touch and hug you, and it’s not always a comfort. Sometimes it’s just obligation.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Alina’s face puckered up and a tear ran down her already reddened face. Her eyelids puffed around her dark eyes. She’d been crying awhile. She held her glass out to Blanche who went and filled hers and Alina’s again while Alina looked in the dictionary.

When she came back, Alina took the glass and sipped this time. She looked into the liquid in the plastic tumbler. “We were like rich peoples in my country. We do whatever we want. Have a nice home.” Her eyes roamed around the room taking in the emptiness. Blanche could feel her comparing it to another life.

“I have Anca and a what you call it. A woman to watch her.”

“A nanny.”

“My friends. My Cosmin. It was the good life. I think Cosmin do a good business of...” she searched again, “exports.” She gave one of those soul-wrenching laughs that had no humor in it. “Lie.” She groaned. “And lie.”

“I’m so sorry, Alina. I’m sorry. It changes life so much when your spouse dies. Now we are both widows.” Blanche looked into the bottom of her plastic cup of gin and juice. “When Harry died, I was paralyzed. I didn’t know what to do or which way to turn. I’d never been that way. I’m a doer. I usually jump in and get things done. I became afraid,” she paused tempted to tell Alina about her fears that had come when Harry had gone. She shrugged, “It’s the oddest sensation to wake up for years by someone, and then poof they’re just gone.” She looked up realizing her rambling English probably didn’t mean much to Alina, but the girl just sniffled and nodded. Blanche felt the sting of tears creep into her own eyes.

“At my age, I knew one of us would have to go, but we’d barely moved to Florida and Harry went off and left me alone. It was awful. I can’t imagine if he’d been put in jail.” Blanche balanced her cup in one hand and rubbed away her own tears with the other while Alina did another dictionary search.

“Jail. Puscarie. Worse part is when the polices take him, I’m so surprised. I’m sure is mistake. I call his boss at this time. He say he to take care of it.” She snorted and then wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “After time, they let me see Cosmin in the jail. First he try to tell me, no it’s okay. Vasile take care of all of it, but I yell in him.” She laughed and looked up to the ceiling with teary eyes. “I is so mad at him this day.”

“There’s nothing like a husband to make you mad. When we were buying our condo down here we fought. Oh, we couldn’t agree. We never really did. He wanted to save money and I wanted a view. I wanted to kill him he was being so stubborn over nothing. Like always. Oh that man.” Blanche laughed through her own tears.

“Yes, husband can be so difficult. I is yelling when he come home late. Imagine.” They both laughed. “Now if he is here, I kill him myself. Cosmin a liar. All the time. I think it’s all a mistake at first. Some money comes from Vasile, but he’s out of Romania so much. Then a court say Cosmin stay in jail. Vasile he’s in United States in this time and not come back. Slowly our money disappear. Friends disappear. I sell everything little by little. Then I ask Vasile if he can give me work. Anca and me going to starve. I don’t tell Cosmin because he feel so bad. He always say sorry, maybe in one month more. He never tell me the truth. Always another delay from officials. Never say it’s true. If he tell me, I not come here. I not talk to Vasile.”

Her face crumpled in on itself and fresh quiet tears flowed in a stream down her red cheeks. She tucked a hank of dishwater hair behind her ear.

“I think they to help me still. I not think it’s true ’til Sergiu bring Mirela here and make her and the others...”

Blanche listened to the two of them sniff and pulled some tissues from her pocket and handed a crumpled one to Alina.

“What happened?”

“Sergiu come and tell me Cosmin murdered in prison.”

“In prison? You believe him?”

“He has paper from Romania. It’s true.” Alina twisted the tissue Blanche had given her into a mess.

“I’m so sorry for you, Alina. We may get mad at our men in life but in the end when they’re gone, we cry. Were there problems in the prison?”

“I don’t know. I feel Vasile did it, but I don’t know. No way to, how do you say?”

“Prove it?”

“Da.”

“Alina, do you want to go talk to the police? We could get protection for you and Anca? We could stop these bad men.”

“Nu.” Alina shook her head vigorously. “Nu. Someone else could be dead. Me or Anca or I don’t know. Like Cosmin. He’s in jail and they kill him. Protection not help us.”

“But why now? Why did they kill Cosmin now?” Blanche didn’t mean to pry, but it bothered her. If Vasile was behind this, why now?

“I don’t know. One time in Romania one man Cosmin work with is killed. Cosmin say something about problems with a shipment and government. Now I have doubts, maybe is more than that. Maybe he is going to talk to a police or court.”

“I hope my trying to help you hasn’t caused problems. I’m so sorry if anything I did got him killed or got you beat up.” Blanche couldn’t look into Alina’s brown eyes and looked into the depths of her tissue instead.

Alina gave a humorless laugh. “No. Now I see their work here, I know they going to kill him anyway. I should see before. I dumb.” It was Alina’s turn not to look at Blanche.

“No, honey. No, not dumb, just deceived.” Blanche went back to the kitchen and emptied the pitcher of gin and juice into Alina’s cup. She carried it back to Alina.

The skinny woman wiped a tear from her cheek and reached for the glass. “What means deceived?” She said her shaky hand half way to the glass.

“They lied to you. All of them.”

She slugged back a swallow of booze like a pro and set it beside her on the carpet.

Blanche turned to go. She could hear Al’s voice telling her to leave the woman in peace in her head.

A gasp from Alina turned her back around again.

“Anca!”

“Your daughter?”

Her eyes were filled with terror. “If they lie in everything, where is my Anca? Dumnezeule.” She pressed her hand over her mouth muffling a groan that seemed to come from the bottom of her soul. Her eyes grew larger, and fear choked the grief in the room.