Young Love in Old Chicago

  Chapter Seven

  When I woke up in the morning, the sky reflected my mood perfectly—gray and depressing, hardly able to keep its tears from pouring out. Mason would be waiting for me after school, and I would have to turn him away. I couldn’t imagine anything worse.

  I climbed out of bed and pulled a dress on. The lock on my door unclicked as I slipped my feet into my shoes and my mother walked in, looking like her usual self. “Your father said you can go to the dance,” she said with a smile.

  As I walked past her, I made sure not to make eye contact. I hurried down the stairs, picked my books and lunch up off the little table at the end of them, and headed for the front door. “Wait. Alexandra, don’t you want breakfast?” my mother asked as she hurried down the stairs.

  I opened the door and turned around long enough to say, “I want Mason,” and then left the house that felt more like a prison at that moment.

  Mason might be outside somewhere, breathing in the same icy air I am, I thought. As my eyes began to tear up, I realized that I hadn’t even grabbed a coat. But the numbness and pain I felt made it seem unimportant.

  I made it halfway to the corner before I heard a door slam and then Katy running after me. “Alexandra wait, I want to talk to you.” Usually in the mornings she left as late as she possibly could. “I want to talk to you about Mason’s father,” she said, walking beside me.

  “Well I don’t. I can’t believe I can’t see him anymore.” I couldn’t hold the tears back anymore. I began crying and taking in deep breaths.

  “But now you have a connection to the mob. I want to know where their headquarters are here in Chicago so I can go meet a few. Those guys are aces.”

  My mind was too clouded by misery to think about how absurd what she’d just said was. “I told you everything I know last night. Mason’s father is Sydney Algoth and neither one is in the mob—and you can’t tell anyone, okay?”

  “Sydney is. At least let me meet him.”

  “I haven’t even met him. Mason doesn’t know where he is.”

  “He’s in New York. Everyone knows that.”

  I stopped to stare at her. “It doesn’t matter, because now I’m not allowed to see Mason.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not even grounded. Father’s not going to know if you’re seeing him or not. I, on the other hand, am stuck at home for the next week. If I were you, I’d just keep seeing him.”

  But she wasn’t me, and going against my father wasn’t something I would do. Sneaking away during the night might be considered disobedience, but it seemed innocent enough. And anyway, look where that had gotten me. I had no intention of going out and getting into more trouble.

  I wiped my tears away and began walking up to Emmaline’s door, leaving Katy behind. As soon as Emmaline opened her door, I burst into tears again. “Bye, Mother,” she called into her house before shutting the door behind her. “What’s wrong, Alexandra?” I told her everything as we walked to school, being careful to leave out Mason’s father. It was still his secret. Katy ran ahead of us to get out of the cold. Emmaline didn’t say anything; she just kept her arm around me as we walked.

  Once we were at school, I tried to calm down.

  Hayden walked past me and glared back at me until he reached his chair, making me feel even worse. “Do you think your father called his and told him what happened?” Emmaline asked.

  I shrugged. It was something he would probably do.

  “At least that takes care of your Hayden problem.”

  “Hayden’s not a problem.”

  “You know what I mean—”

  Emmaline gasped as dark liquid suddenly began spilling all over her head. I stood up and jumped to the side as she let out a terrible scream. Marcy was standing behind her, pouring what smelled like coffee all over her.

  “STOP IT!” I shouted, taking the half empty carton from her.

  Everyone in the classroom turned to stare at us and a couple of boys began laughing.

  “Give that back,” Marcy said, reaching out for it with her fat hands.

  “No,” Emmaline stood up and pushed her to the side before she yanked it out of my hand. “I’ll give it back to her.” She ripped the top of what was once a milk carton open and threw the rest of its contents all over Marcy.

  “What are you doing?” Mr. Web hollered as he walked through the door and caught some of the spray. Emmaline dropped the carton. “Miss Emmaline, explain yourself.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his coat pocket and began dabbing at his angry, red face.

  “Marcy came in here and just started dumping this stuff all over me, Mr. Web.”

  “I did not,” Marcy said.

  “Then why is this stuff all over me?”

  “You must have dumped it all over yourself.”

  “ARE YOU CRAZY?!”

  “All right girls, calm down. Both of you go home and clean yourselves up. I’ll see you back here when you’re done,” Mr. Web said.

  “Yes, sir,” Emmaline and Marcy said in low voices, glaring at the other. Marcy bumped into Emmaline on the way out the door. Emmaline bumped her back just before they were lost from view.

  “Go get a mop, Miss Alexandra,” Mr. Web said before walking up to the front of the classroom. As I walked down the still, empty hallway, I wondered if Marcy’s torrents of malice would be directed toward Emmaline instead of me from now on. It was difficult not to hope for. Emmaline could handle herself so much better than I could, after all.

  As the morning wore on, and Hayden continued to cast angry glances back at me now and then, all I could think about was what I was going to say to Mason. Tears remained in my eyes most of the time, but I managed to keep them from spilling out.

  Marcy returned just before lunch, which was spent inside due to the rain, and Emmaline came back just after. You okay? she wrote on her slate. Then she pushed it over to me as Mr. Web called the class to attention. A tear rolled down my cheek as I shook my head.

  When the final bell rang I remained in my seat. “Come on, Alexandra, I’ll be with you,” Emmaline said, taking my elbow and helping me up. A few desks in front of us, Hayden remained in his seat too, I realized. I stood still, not wanting to face Mason. Emmaline picked up my books and pulled me outside. Without looking up, I could feel the cold, gray sky.

  I kept my head down as I walked toward the sidewalk until I felt his arms around me. I didn’t have to see Mason to know it was him. “Maaason,” I said into his chest as grief washed over me.

  “Alexandra, what’s wrong?” he asked as he ran his fingers through my hair.

  “They, they were awake. I can’t—”

  “This has gone on quite long enough,” I heard Hayden’s voice before I felt his hands on the sides of my waist, pulling me away from Mason. “Alexandra’s not to see you anymore.”

  “Get your hands off my girl,” Mason said, his gray eyes flashing like lightning during a storm.

  “I’m your girl?” I asked, forgetting my sadness in hearing him say officially that I was his girlfriend.

  He looked at me like I was crazy. “Of course you are.”

  “No, she’s not,” Hayden said.

  “Yes, I am,” I said. Hayden gave me a hurt look. “Well, I was.” I looked down at the ground sadly.

  “What are you talking about?” Mason asked.

  “My parents were awake when I got home.”

  “What?” Mason looked around at all the noisy kids coming out of school behind me. “Not here. Come on.” He put his arm around me and began leading me down the sidewalk, away from Hayden and the school.

  I looked around for Emmaline and realized she was standing beside Benny, not far away. “Come on,” she said, taking his hand and walking away in the opposite direction. Benny looked at Mason for some explanation, but Mason was watching me. “See you tomorrow,” Emmaline called back to me.

  “They were awake, Mason. They said the only way I could still see you was if they talked to your parents—”
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  “Did you tell them about my dad?”

  “I told them I couldn’t, but they said I would never see you again, so I told them who he was but that it’s a secret. It was the only way I could keep seeing you.”

  “Hey!” Hayden grabbed my hand and pulled me to the side, putting his other arm out to keep Mason away from me. “I told you to leave her alone.”

  “And I told you to keep your hands off my girl.” Mason pushed Hayden to the side and came to stand in front of me.

  Hayden’s shoes squeaked against the wet grass as he fought to regain his balance. He stood stiffly as he glared at Mason. “Look, Mason, she obviously hasn’t told you that we will be married someday soon, so you don’t—”

  “No, you won’t.” Mason took a step toward Hayden.

  “Wait, what are you talking about, Hayden?” I asked, moving closer to him.

  “Our fathers have discussed our marriage for as long as I can remember, after dinner in my father’s office. Hasn’t your father talked to you about this?”

  Marriage? I was stunned. For a few seconds I just stood there, sure I’d heard him wrong. He thought I was planning to marry him? Suddenly, the way he’d been acting about me and Mason began to make sense. “No…Hayden…I’m not going to marry you.”

  His mouth opened, but no sound escaped. His eyebrows bent down. He walked up to me and grabbed both of my elbows firmly. “Yes, you are.”

  “Hayden, stop.”

  Mason grabbed one of Hayden’s arms and twisted it around behind his back. “Touch her again—and I’ll break your arm.”

  I put my fingertips over my mouth nervously.

  “Unhand me, you ruffian. I’ll have you arrested,” Hayden said.

  I took Mason’s hand. This had to stop. He glanced at me before he let go of Hayden. Then he put his arm around me and began leading me away.

  “Alexandra,” Hayden called out.

  I reached back to rest my arm against Mason’s and held onto his hand, ignoring Hayden and his complete misconception of our future together.

  “Alexandra,” he called out once more.

  Tears began to fall again as I walked. This is the last time I’ll feel his arm around me or his body beside mine. Mason reached up to wipe them away, but said nothing.

  I realized we were heading to where he was staying. He led me up the stairs and into the darkness. A door to our left opened and I walked into a room with a desk, a long couch, and a few stacks of boxes in it, all covered in dust. Mason led me to the couch and sat down, pulling me down with him.

  Taking my hand and staring into my watery eyes, he said, “Now, tell me exactly what happened.” He watched me with concern, nodding once in a while, as I told him everything that had happened the night before.

  “I’m so sorry, Mason. I shouldn’t have told them about your father,” I said when I was finished.

  “It’s all right. I would’ve told them, too, if I thought it was the only way to keep seeing you.”

  “It only made things worse.”

  Mason leaned over to hug me. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have asked you to leave last night.”

  “But I wanted to see you…and now I’ll never be able to again.”

  “Yes you will.” Mason let go of me and put his hands on my shoulders. “I’ll go talk to your dad and straighten this out. Just let me grab that paper I showed you.” He stood up and left the room for a long time. By the time he returned, I felt a little better. “Come on, we’ll go right now,” he said, holding a hand out to me.

  “What if it doesn’t help? What if my father still won’t let me see you?” I asked as I stood up.

  Mason put a hand behind my back and pulled me against him. “It won’t matter. No one is going to keep you away from me.” He leaned down to kiss my cheek before he led me outside and down Michigan Avenue toward my house. Hope crept in as I walked.

  Mason walked right into my house before he turned to me. “Will you please get your father?” he asked.

  I nodded and turned around to find my mother walking towards us. “Hello, Mrs. Roomer,” Mason said. Her eyes filled with fear before she turned away and walked quickly back to the kitchen without saying a word.

  At the top of the stairs, I passed Katy’s room and glanced inside. She was lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling. “What are you doing home?” I stopped to ask. I usually didn’t see her until dinnertime.

  She looked over at me and smiled. “I’m grounded, remember? But I’m glad you’re finally here. There’s something I want to show you.” She got down on the floor and reached under her bed for something.

  “It’ll have to wait. I need to talk to Father.” I left her rummaging through the buildup of junk underneath her unmade bed.

  I knocked on the next door, my father’s office. “Come in,” he called out.

  I opened it a crack and was met with a scowl. My father sat in his office chair with several papers in each hand. “Could you come downstairs for a minute? Mason wants to speak with you,” I asked nervously.

  “Mason?” He slapped his papers down noisily against his desk before he walked past me.

  “Did you just say Mason’s here?” Katy said, running out of her room and into my father. She was holding a large shoebox in her arms.

  “Go back to your room,” my father said.

  She rolled her eyes and went to stand just inside of her doorway, clearly wanting to hear whatever was said, if at all possible.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Roomer,” Mason said when he saw my father and me. “I’d really like to talk to you about Alexandra.”

  “Let’s do it in the living room.” Mason took my hand as we followed my father to the brightly lit living area. My father sat in the brown leather armchair and we sat down on the matching sofa. He cleared his throat and glanced at our hands as he shook his head. Mason let go of me.

  “I’m sorry that I upset you and Alexandra’s mother last night,” Mason said. “I’ve hardly seen Alexandra these last few days, so I wanted to spend some time with her. Certainly you can understand needing to see the person you care most about.”

  I smiled over at him. …the person you care most about. His tender words played through my mind.

  “Of course I can, but that doesn’t excuse what you asked my daughter to do.”

  “You’re right, and I apologize. I promise that it will never happen again.”

  “That’s all very fine, but it’s not what this is about, although it might very well be. This is about the company my daughter keeps. You’re tied to the mob. I can’t allow Alexandra to associate with you.”

  “You have my solemn word that I am not associated with the mob in any way.” Mason held out the newspaper he’d brought. “I hoped you would read this.”

  My father took the paper and opened it up as he sat back. Mason smiled over at me as we waited. “Why are you showing me this?” my father asked when he was finished.

  “My father is a good man,” Mason said. “I haven’t seen him since before he left for that trip. He wouldn’t take off like that without saying anything to me. It’s not like him. So I know something’s wrong. And he wouldn’t join the mob, either. He’s always hated them.”

  “So have I. But he’s been sighted with them repeatedly. He and four other men entered a bank last month, each holding a gun, and took as much money as they could carry. Your father was there with a gun in his own hand. How do you explain that?”

  “I can’t, and I’ll admit that it’s strange, but he’s not in the mob. And even if he was, that wouldn’t mean I am.”

  “That’s true, but let’s say people found out he’s your father. Imagine what would happen to Alexandra. Imagine how she would be treated.”

  “I’ve thought about that, but Alexandra’s the only person I’ve told. How would they find out?”

  My father looked out of the long window across the room from him for a minute. I wondered again if he’d told Hayden’s father about Mason’s father.
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  He looked back to Mason. “It took a great deal of courage coming here to talk to me about this. A lesser man would have turned away, but I cannot allow you to continue seeing my daughter.”

  “Please, Father!” I said desperately, feeling the tears return.

  “Please, Mr. Roomer, there must be something I can do to regain your trust,” Mason said.

  “Aren’t you listening? I can’t risk my daughter’s reputation. The longer you continue to date my daughter, the greater that risk becomes.”

  “All right, what if no one knows I’m seeing her? What if we keep it quiet? I could visit her here.”

  My father’s eyes slowly narrowed. “That’s exactly how they work, isn’t it—secretly—without anyone knowing?” He stood up and came to shove Mason’s newspaper into his chest. “You sound exactly like one of them.”

  “I’m not a mobster, and I’ll do whatever it takes to continue seeing Alexandra.”

  “Alexandra, say good-bye to Mason. I won’t be changing my mind.”

  “Please,” Mason said.

  “Leave.”

  Mason looked over at me in defeat. I felt tears spilling over my cheeks. Mason wrapped both arms around me. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered in my ear.

  “That’s enough of that,” my father said.

  “If I’m never going to see her again, at least let me say good-bye,” Mason said without letting me go.

  His words were agonizing. …I’m never going to see her again… I grabbed two wads of the back of his shirt and clutched him against me, afraid to let go, and sobbed heavily onto his chest. “I don’t want you to go, Mason,” I wailed uncontrollably. How would I ever get over him? There would never be anyone else like him, and no other man half as wonderful would ever want me.

  “I know. It’s going to be okay,” he murmured as he slid his hands over my back.

  “I said that’s enough.” My father grabbed my shoulder and pulled me away. “Now leave,” he said to Mason.

  Mason nodded to my father before he walked out of the living room. I slumped back onto the couch and cried into my hands. I heard the door shut. It felt like so many doors shut in that instant, the door to my first relationship, the door to the dream I’d been living in since I met Mason, the door to any happiness at all.

  Someone reached into my pocket. I looked up and saw my father standing beside me with a piece of notebook paper folded up in his hand. “He slipped this into your pocket. No doubt it’s some sort of criminal proposal or plan he wants to involve you in,” he said before he walked out of the living room.

  “Wait, that’s my letter.” I ran after him and bumped into him when he stopped abruptly.

  “No. Now go to your room until dinner.”

  “But it’s my letter. You’ve already forbidden me from seeing him. Must you make my life even more miserable?”

  “You’ll forget that boy in time and you’ll be fine—”

  “No, I won’t!”

  “YES, you will. Now go to your room.” He continued to the stairs and went into his office. I went to my room and lay on my bed to cry. It felt as if I would never be happy again, like the intense pain I felt would never end. I was his girl…

  “Alexandra,” someone whispered. I looked at my doorway and watched Katy push it open slowly before she came to sit on my bed with the same shoebox she’d been holding earlier in her arms.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Shh. Father’s in his office. He’ll never know I left my room. I want to show you this.” She turned on my lamp before she opened the box and pulled out several newspaper articles she’d cut out. She began spreading them out over my bed. I realized they were all articles about Sydney Algoth. “I’ve been collecting these for months.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Sydney showed the world that anyone can move up in the mob. That’s why he’s my favorite.”

  Lying on my stomach, I turned my head to face away from her. I didn’t want to think about Sydney. “It’s all his fault,” I said.

  “What?”

  “Everything. Mason’s in this mess because of him… And Father took the letter Mason gave me before I even got to read it.”

  “A letter from Mason?”

  “Yes, and it could have said anything.” He could have declared his undying love or asked me to run away with him. As unlikely as I knew these both were, the idea brought a smile to my face.

  “This could be really important. What did Father do with it?”

  “He put it in his coat pocket.”

  “Put this under your bed. I’ll get the note.”

  “But that’s impossible. He’s wearing his coat,” I said as I sat up to look at her.

  “No it’s not, it’s easy.” She hurried out of my room and shut the door behind her.

  I put all the newspaper clippings back in the box and shoved it under my bed, back against the wall. Then I went to my door and opened it a crack to look out into the hallway. For a couple of minutes I didn’t see anything. Then I saw Katy emerge from my parent’s bedroom at the opposite end of the hall. She tiptoed to her room with one of my father’s coats held against her. Was that the coat he’d been wearing? No. He only takes his suit coat off when he sleeps.

  I went back to my bed, feeling the terrible pain return as I wondered what in the world Katy was planning.

  Ten minutes later I realized it was sweltering. It had been getting progressively warmer since I lay down, but as I sat up, it really hit me. Sweat was beading on my forehead, so I wiped it away.

  Moving to my door, I peeked out again and waited another several minutes before I saw my father walk out of his office and over to the thermostat. His coat’s off. I smiled as I thought of the daring and intelligence my sister possessed. “Katy—it’s hotter than an oven in here. Why did you leave your room and why did you turn the heat up so high?” my father asked as he turned the temperature down.

  Katy poked her head out of her door. “Why are you assuming it was me?”

  “Because it was you.”

  “Well, I was cold.”

  “Then put on a coat.”

  “But my coat’s downstairs and you said not to leave my room.”

  “You left your room to turn the heat up.”

  “I was cold.”

  “Then put on a…” My father looked down and shook his head. “Never mind. Just don’t turn it up again.” He started walking back to his office.

  “All right, but I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about the Civil War.” Katy walked out of her room and followed our father into his office. I saw the coat she’d taken from his room rolled up in her hands behind her back so that my father wouldn’t see it. They both turned to the left and disappeared.

  I watched the empty hallway for about twenty minutes before Katy emerged from the office, walking out backwards. She was still talking to my father, so it seemed natural. “Thanks. I can never keep all the names and dates straight. I’ll finish that report right now.” A coat was folded up behind her back again, but I couldn’t tell if it was the one she’d been holding before. She turned around and hurried into her room, shutting the door behind her.

  Since it was so hot, I changed into my nightgown and went to sit on my bed, wondering if she had my letter or not. At least it didn’t feel quite like all was lost anymore, now that there was the fragment of hope that I would be able to read his final note.