She said: These girls, they have bad husbands. It’s not their fault.
She wanted more help than I had in my purse. I thought of the bag Louis had dropped off just a few hours before. I stuck my hand in and grabbed a fistful of bills. I tried not to look too close at how much was there. It was full, though.
I thrust the money at her. I said I didn’t want to know. It makes me sting thinking about my own mother still. When does that sting die? Does it die when I die?
Mazie’s Diary, December 5, 1920
Last night Jeanie was passed out on the couch, snoring, one arm flopped to the side. There was the tiniest line of drool sliding from her mouth. Rosie was sitting in front of the hearth, reading the paper. I saw a tin of whatever Rosie’s been feeding Jeanie to keep her quiet. I pointed to it.
I said: You gotta stop with that business.
She said: I’ll stop when she’s better. She’s in pain. Her legs itch. Her nerves tingle. You’re not here all day. You don’t know how she moans. I’m the one who’s taking care of her, not you.
I put the back of my hand on Jeanie’s forehead. She was cool. I said her name. She fluttered her eyelids open.
I leaned over her and whispered in her ear.
I said: Do you want to sleep forever? I don’t think you do.
I rubbed her neck for a second.
I said: Did you hear me?
She mumbled that she did.
Rosie said: What did you say?
I said: I told her to wake up.
Mazie’s Diary, December 29, 1920
Ethan’s come courting again. I guess he forgives easily. Can’t say I’d do the same. I could hear Jeanie tittering from up the street as I approached the house. Nice to hear her happy anyway. She was sprawled on the couch by the hearth, a bag of chocolates next to her, her casted leg balanced on a pile of pillows.
She said: Ethan brought me treats.
She held up a stack of gossip papers.
He said: She sounded so bored, I couldn’t help myself. We can’t have our Jeanie bored.
I said: Oh brother.
Rosie called me from the kitchen, and I left the two of them with their sweets and gossip. Louis was seated at the table, Rosie behind him rubbing his shoulders.
She said: Leave them be. Let them get reacquainted.
I said: He’s a fool.
I repeated myself, said it louder.
I went out onto the porch, lit myself a cigarette. My throat’s been sore lately from yelling at all the holiday crowds above the noise of the city. Is it possible the city is getting louder? Could it be that the streets are fuller? More cars, more trains, more people, more noise. I can’t stop smoking to save my life though. Often it feels like it’s the only joy I have.
Ethan soon joined me on the porch. So tall, yet somehow he still seems like the runt of the litter. A stretched-out baby face.
I said: I thought you were clever. Doctors are supposed to be clever.
He said: I’m an animal doctor.
I said: So you’re not clever?
The both of us were trembling in the moonlight from the winter chill, made more deadly by the wind blasting off the ocean.
He said: My heart can’t help it, Mazie. She’s a rare breed.
I said: No she’s not. She’s a street cat, can’t you see? The kind who’ll only rub against your legs long enough till you feed her.
He said: I see an injured creature who needs my love and support.
I waved my hand in front of his eyes a few times.
I said: Just checking to make sure they work.
He thinks he can handle a Phillips girl, let him try.
Mazie’s Diary, December 31, 1920
We closed the theater last night till the New Year. Gave everyone the day off, paid.
Louis said: Thank god this year is over, let’s hope the next one is better.
He handed everyone bottles of this and that and a hundred-dollar bill each. One of the ushers wept and hugged him, and sweet Louis hugged him back.
In the car ride home I smiled at Louis.
I said: You could have given them a tenner and it would have been fine by them, more than they expected.
Louis said: I could have given them a hundred more and it wouldn’t have been enough.
Now it’s lunchtime and we’re all lazing about the house. Rosie and Louis rose early and drove into the city and spent a fortune at Joel Russ’s shop. There’s an abundance of food before us. Jeanie’s eyes are clear. She’s got just a few days till the cast comes off, and she’s counting them down. She swears she feels healed. We’ve been picking at the whitefish, slicing off chunks of sour pickle, too, for the last hour. I’ve been flipping through the pages of this diary, looking at how lousy the past year has been.
Jeanie said: Anything good in there?
I said: You were someone else for a while it seems.
She said: Who was that girl?
I said: I missed you while you were gone.
She said: I missed you too.
I didn’t quite believe her though.
I said: So you and Ethan are back on, are you?
Jeanie said: It’s the oddest thing. He’s right where I left him.
I couldn’t help but think of the Captain. I’m right where he left me.
Mazie’s Diary, January 1, 1921
Jeanie said: This year’s going to be your year.
I said: For what?
Mazie’s Diary, January 5, 1921
Mack wants to take me out on a date. He’s insisting on it.
He said: A proper date for a proper lady.
I laughed.
He said: I’m an officer of the law. If you can’t trust me, who can you trust?
I said: Oh really, Mack Walters?
He said: I’m being a straightforward, honorable man.
I laughed some more. Mack, the biggest boozer I know, and that’s a lot coming from this boozer. Mack, with his oversized head and that extra chin and that beard that changes colors all year round, red to yellow to gray lately, like it can’t decide what looks best on his face. Maybe none of it does.
I said: Maybe.
He said: Mazie, Maybe’s what I’ll call you from now on. And I’m planning on calling.
Walked off whistling, like he knew something I didn’t.
Mazie’s Diary, January 9, 1921
Jeanie came back from the doctor’s, still on crutches, Ethan and Rosie helping her through the door. She’ll be hobbling for a while yet.
She said: I don’t know why I thought I’d be better. I was dreaming the cast would be gone and I’d be leaping through the streets, dancing in circles beneath the sun, whirling and twirling.
She waved her arms so gracefully in the air that I could nearly see her dancing myself.
Ethan said: You’re young and strong, you’ll heal just fine. Just do those exercises the doctor told you about.
I looked to see if Ethan was telling the truth and I could see that he was. Then Jeanie showed us her leg, scrawny and yellow and bruised.
Jeanie said: I nearly passed out when I saw it.
Rosie said: If that were a chicken leg I wouldn’t serve it for dinner.
All of Jeanie is thinner now, I noticed for the first time. Her dress was falling off her shoulders, her petticoat dragged on the ground. Bones poking from her neck. Her braids were loose. Somehow her hair has turned from black to brown.
I said: No point in feeling sorry for yourself now. You’re on the way to well.
She said: I’m not, I can’t do anything at all.
Ethan helped her to the living room, and there she began to weep. I could hear it from the kitchen. I could hear him comforting her. Nurse Ethan.