Homefront
Part 3
New York City, June 28, 1984
8:00 am
Andrew Belden stumbled out of his room, and into the living area of his two-bedroom hotel suite, drawn by the scent of coffee. His bleary eyes landed on his niece, sitting at the table, a plate of eggs and pancakes in front of her, a room service cart at her elbow.
“How do you do that?” he asked. “How do you manage to survive two days of travel, a fifteen hour layover due to storm warnings, and still be up at the crack of dawn? You’re a teenager. Aren’t you supposed to sleep in?”
Tessa stifled a giggle, and serenely sipped from her teacup. “Well, dearest uncle,” she explained. “I have traveled through three time zones? Or was it four? Quite frankly, my body hasn’t figured out what time it is. Besides, I slept through most of the flight. My stomach woke me around seven, so I ordered food. Dinner, lunch, or breakfast. The stomach doesn’t care.”
Andrew glared, his nose twitching at the coffee aroma coming from the tray on the table. “I smell coffee,” he grumbled. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” The smile was serene, but the glint in the eyes was wicked.
Andrew retied his bathrobe, and sat down opposite Tessa. She quickly poured him a cup of coffee, and he breathed deep, inhaling the blessed smell before taking the first sip. Sighing, he set down the cup and asked, “So. What do you want to do today?”
“When are Uncle Peter and Aunt Helen expecting us at Crabapple Farm?”
“Tomorrow night, or Saturday. I was deliberately vague.” Andrew took another sip. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to go straight there, or if you wanted to do some sightseeing.”
Tessa’s eyes clouded, but she forced a smile. “I think I’ll take a rain check on the sightseeing,” she said. “But I do have a couple of things I’d like to do--but you have to promise not to laugh.”
“I’ll try.” Andrew caught on quickly to Tessa’s serious tone. “What are they?”
“I’d like to walk around Central Park...and look at the buildings.” Tessa chewed on her lower lip. “Maybe, just maybe, I’ll recognize the apartment where we stayed. I know it was near the Park, because I could see it from Mama’s room.” She shrugged. “It’s silly, I know. But I keep hoping...”
“Not a problem.” Andrew reached for her hand. “It’ll be nice to take a long walk, especially after being cooped up in airplanes and airports for the last couple of days. What’s the other thing you want to do?”
“I want to take the subway to Jersey City.” Tessa’s eyes were slightly defiant. “I really feel like I need to see Yaya--Mrs. Maxim--and just...I don’t know...reconnect.”
“She hasn’t answered any of your letters, Tess. Are you sure she’ll want to see you?”
“Yes.” Tessa hesitated. “Look, I know that they told you I scammed her into thinking I was her granddaughter, but she knew I wasn’t. She always knew. And I need to know that they...she’s doing okay. Please?”
“Okay. But do we have to take the subway?” Andrew gave her a pained look. “Couldn’t we take a taxi?”
Tessa giggled. “Spoiled.” She shook her head. “Terribly, terribly spoiled.” She ducked, as Andrew threw a napkin at her. Pulling herself to her feet, she said, “Fine. Taxi. Bus. Subway. I don’t care, as long as I get to go.” She hugged her uncle. “Thanks, Uncle Andy. I really appreciate this.” Pulling away, she added, “There are more eggs, pancakes and some sausage on the tray. I’m going to shower.” She disappeared into her room, leaving Andrew to his breakfast, and a second cup of coffee.
They took the subway. Andrew was a trifle apprehensive, but the ride was uneventful. Let off a few blocks from their destination, they walked in companionable silence. Andrew felt Tessa stiffen, as she saw the empty lot, but he didn’t know why. Her fingers clenched against his, and her breath began coming in rapid, jagged sobs. Looking at the space, Andrew realized that a building had once stood where now there was nothing.
“Tess?” Andrew let go of her hand, draping his arm around her shoulders. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?”
“It’s gone.” Her voice was hollow. “The apartment building. It’s gone.”
“Are you sure you have the right place?”
Tessa turned on him, pain and anger in her eyes. “Of course I am! I lived here for more than three months. I walked down this street every day. I was happy here, Uncle Andy! It was the only time I felt safe or happy during that whole, horrible time. And now it’s gone, and I don’t know how or why.”
Andrew pulled her close to him, his arms offering what support he could. Tessa leaned against him for a long moment, struggling to regain her composure. Pushing away, she took a deep breath. “Uncle Andy, I need to find out what happened. Would you mind walking back downtown with me? I want to stop at Garibaldi’s and see if Mr. G knows what happened.”
“Garibaldi’s? Wasn’t that the place with the ice cream?”
“Best ice cream in Jersey.” Tessa affected an extreme Jersey girl accent. “I’ll buy.”
“I’ll buy,” Andrew told her. “You ask questions.”
Tessa rose onto her tiptoes and kissed Andrew on the cheek. “Thanks.” Turning, she headed back up the street. Andrew hastened after her.
Garibaldi’s reminded Andrew of the small grocery near his London flat: Brick walls, large plate glass window, and shelves of little miscellaneous sundries. A large glass ice cream cabinet stretched across the back of the store, and his attention was split between the colorful array of flavors, and the fact that his niece was in deep conversation with the wizened old man who ran the place. They were speaking in hushed tones, in what Andrew believed was Italian.
The conversation ended with a hug, and the exchange of kisses on each cheek. Tessa led the elderly man towards Andrew. “Uncle Andy, this is Mr. Garibaldi. Mr. Garibaldi, this is my uncle, Andrew Belden.”
The two men shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. Mr. Garibaldi spoke quietly. “I have been telling Tessa that there was a fire, a few months after she left. It was quite bad. Two of the tenants died...”
“Yaya is okay, though,” Tessa interrupted. ”She was in the hospital for a while, but Mr. G. says she’s in Connecticut, now. He’s going to give me her address.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” the old man agreed, retreating behind the counter to wash his hands. “Now what can I get you?”
“Well, I had plenty of time to make my choice,” Andrew said. “I’d like a single scoop of Rocky Road, in a cup, please.” He smiled at Tessa, and was surprised to see tears welling in her eyes. “Tessa? Are you okay?”
She nodded abruptly. Mr. Garibaldi watched her with appraising eyes, before joking, “She’s just overwhelmed by all of her wonnerful choices, right cara mia? So tell the old man what you want.”
“Cono,” Tess said, wiping quickly at her damp eyes. “Uno gusto. Limone. Grazie infinite.”
“Single scoop of Lemon, on one of my delicious, handmade cones. Excellent, although not unexpected choice. And you are most welcome.”
Tessa couldn’t suppress a smile, as he handed her cone over the counter. “Are you suggesting that I am predictable?” she asked.
“Mebee just a leetle.” Garibaldi exaggerated his accent. “But it’s been a few years, so it is forgivable.” He took the money from Andrew, and wiped his hands on his apron. “You eat. I’ll go get that address.” He disappeared into the back of the store.
“Are you really all right?” Andrew asked, his eyes worried.
“I’m fine,” Tessa assured him. “It was just sad, I mean about the fire, and Yaya, and all. I guess I’m feeling a little emotional.”
“Do you want to go to Connecticut to make sure your friend is really fine? We could take another day. I could rent a car.”
Impulsively, Tessa threw her arms around her uncle. “Thank you so much for offering,” she said, “but I think I’ll write to her first. I can always take the train, later. Right?”
“I don’t see why not. You aren’t going to be a prisoner in Sleepyside.”
“I know.” Tessa stepped back, licking her cone before it dripped. “Thanks for doing this with me Uncle Andy.”
“Any time, Tessa-girl. Any time.” Andrew took another bite of his ice cream. It was definitely the best he had had in a very long time.
