The Lake House (12 page)

H
ail bounced against the pitched roof of the community center where Carl, Bill, Daniel, and Joseph sat around a table, piles of poker chips and cards spread in front of them. Joseph looked at his cards, two queens and a jack. It was a good hand, but the spread in front of him had a king and an ace. He looked at his pile of chips. It had dwindled to a quarter of the size of the other piles. He’d been distracted throughout the game.

“Playing poker without cigars isn’t right,” Bill said as he raised by two dollars. It was a twenty-dollar buy-in and Joseph had about five dollars left. “I tell ya, this whole healthy-lifestyle-phase our wives are in has to be stopped. Now we can’t smoke in the community center or our own homes because it’s no longer healthy. I tell ya what’s unhealthy: stressing about what isn’t good for ya.”

“Give me bacon and eggs alongside a good steak any day and just let my heart clog up when it’s ready to stop ticking. I’m going out happy,” Carl said.

Daniel Littman looked at his cards and folded. He grabbed his inhaler and sucked in the medication. His breath rumbled in his chest. Joseph looked at the purple bruises beneath Daniel’s skin. Someone needed to convince him to see a doctor.

Daniel hadn’t grown up in the neighborhood. A Holocaust victim, he’d immigrated to the United States with his wife after the war. Bill had given him a job as an accountant in his family’s factory. Daniel worked long hours and dedicated his life to the company.

Bill never asked about the concentration camp, but he had seen the numbers tattooed on the inside of Daniel’s left arm. When Bill’s family’s house was passed down to him, he came to the community and told them his plan. He and Molly were already living in her parents’ home. He’d been at Dachau the day the troops went in to free the prisoners. He’d seen the famine, the living conditions, the torture they’d endured. He wanted Daniel and his family to have a place to call home.

The community agreed that Bill could give his home to the Littmans, and Daniel became a part of the neighborhood.

“Joseph, it’s your turn,” Carl said. “I don’t know where your head is today, but I like that you want to give me all your money.” He laughed.

Joseph looked at his cards and his five chips and decided to go all in. As soon as he did, Bill flipped over a king and an ace and gathered up his winnings.

“Well, I guess that’s it for me today,” Joseph said as he stood. He walked across the room and into the library area. Two couches and chairs were situated around a fireplace. He hit the button on the wall and blue flames ignited the gas. He looked at the built-in bookcases and scanned the titles for a good book. Nothing caught his interest.

The community center had been built nine years ago over the patio that had held lavish parties. Now the space had a gym with Nautilus equipment, an office section with two
computers—though none of his friends ever used them—and the library area. There was a small kitchen and a dining area for when parties were held. A pool table stood next to where the men played cards. Many days were spent in this room, the women playing dominoes or knitting, while the men played poker or pool. The room had warm woods, deep burgundy carpets, and soft lights for a cozy feel during the winter months.

Joseph walked across the parquet dance floor and stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows. He opened a curtain and stared at the lake. Snow covered the overgrown path that led through his yard and to the private beach.

There were thousands of little memories that Joseph enjoyed replaying: his daughter tapping her first pair of patent leather shoes on the church steps, the first time he held his son, and the night he and Victoria had made love.

Victoria’s rejection had broken his spirit. Though he’d never told her, Joseph had dreamt of becoming a photographer—with Victoria by his side, they would travel the world. While away at war, he’d lie on his bunk at night and plan. He’d known that Victoria couldn’t remain constrained by Nagog’s lifestyle. The war had caused him to see the brutality of life, but also allowed him to see the beauty of the buildings and landscape of Europe. He imagined Victoria’s eyes alight as they discovered new places.

Never in letters did he share his plans with her. He wanted to surprise her when the war was over and life could be about happiness again. Before he could share his ideas, she rejected him and ran away. Stunned by her response to his proposal, he hadn’t immediately followed her. Only a half hour had passed when he went to find her, to show her what their life could be, but she was already gone. Over the months that followed, she didn’t return or
contact him and without her spark, and in the wake of her rejection, his dreams had died.

He’d fallen into a role: manager, then owner, of his father’s textile factory, husband to the daughter of his mother’s best friend, and keeper of the Nagog home. He forgot about professional photography and the world outside the community. Dreams were for teenagers. It wasn’t until he became a father that his life felt fulfilled.

After his wife, Barbara, gave birth to their eldest son, Joseph began to see her as the earth goddess. Over the years, her once slim body softened as she brought another son and then their daughter into the world. Thin white stretch marks he had to squint to see lined her stomach. He enjoyed running his hand over their patterns. They were the lines of new life, the beauty marks his children had left behind. The children brightened their world with smiles and laughter. Joseph loved the way he and Barbara shared the joy of the family they created: pillow fights and stories at bedtime with the kids; private dances in the living room after the children were asleep.

Barbara had been as steady as the earth’s rotation. Every day the sun came up, and every night it set, and in between there may have been clouds, but for the most part they had clear days. But then Victoria began to visit Nagog. She’d blast into the community in a flurry of glamour and excitement, usually without warning.

The first time he’d taken his daughter to the amusement park, she insisted they go on a ride called the Birthday Cake. Her small hand, sticky with cotton candy, pulled him up the metal stairs. They entered the round room and stood against the sides. The room began to spin and he felt his head press back. Faster
and faster they spun until the floor dropped from beneath his feet and he stuck to the wall, unable to move.

Whenever Victoria came home to visit, Joseph felt as if he were in that cake. No matter how hard he tried to avoid her silver eyes, he felt pulled by the spirit they emanated. He didn’t need to see her smile grow until her cheeks popped; he
felt
it from across the room. It had been that way since he was six.

Joseph walked past where the men played cards. He heard their voices but couldn’t concentrate on their conversation. As he’d done many times since Victoria returned two weeks ago, he pulled back the curtains and peeked out the window toward her home. The porch light of the yellow house was on, but inside was dark. Had she gone out in this weather?

He looked around the neighborhood and saw lights on in Molly and Bill’s place. Victoria was probably visiting with Molly. As he went to release the curtain he noticed two cars in the driveway of Maryland’s home.

“Do any of you know why there are cars parked in Maryland’s driveway?” Joseph asked. As he did, two women and Daniel’s son Aaron walked onto the porch. Carl, Bill, and Daniel joined him at the window and watched as the women shook hands with Aaron and then walked to their cars.

“What the hell’s he doing over there?” Daniel’s German accent thickened as he yelled. “Damn it! Who are those people?”

“I’m certain everything’s fine,” Joseph said.

“Nothing’s fine when it comes to my son,” Daniel said as he pressed his face closer to the window.

Aaron had married Maryland’s daughter, Patricia, and they lived in Florida. When Maryland had a stroke, Aaron moved her to Florida and placed her in a nursing home.

“The
chutzpah
of my son . . . He’s going to sell Maryland’s home.”

Daniel flung the curtains closed and limped toward the coatrack. “The two of them abandoned her house. Aaron didn’t even bother to board it up. Just left it for the pipes to burst and the windows to crack. If it weren’t for Tommy, that house would’ve been destroyed.” His thin arm shook as he reached for his coat.

The rain began to pound on the roof as it came down in a flash of power. “Daniel, you can’t go out in this rain. You’ll catch pneumonia,” Bill said.

“I won’t allow this. That house belongs to this community and Maryland,” Daniel spat.

Carl put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, we won’t let him sell it.”

Joseph watched as Aaron walked out of the house carrying a folder that he stuck under his rain jacket. Bill went to the door and opened it as Aaron made his way along the street to Daniel’s home. Bill yelled, “Aaron, your father is over here.”

Aaron turned and ran across the street and into the warm building. Water dripped from his coat and he unbuttoned it and hung it on the coatrack while he held on to the folder.

“Bill, Carl, Joseph”—he turned to his father—“Dad.”

Joseph could see the shock on Aaron’s face as he noticed his father’s condition. His white hair jutted out to the side in desperate need of a haircut. He’d lost considerable weight and his clothing hung on him. Worse, his lungs wheezed with asthma.

“What’s in your hand?” Daniel yelled without even saying hello.

“That’s how you greet me?” Aaron said. “I haven’t seen you in four years and you try to pick a fight the first minute I’m home?”

“I know what you’re up to. You’re trying to sell Maryland’s home.”

“Yes, I am,” Aaron said. “I have a good offer and I’m taking it. Do you understand what this place is costing me? I knew if I put it on the regular market you and your men would make certain it didn’t sell.”

“Damn straight,” Carl said. “That place belongs to Maryland and it should be passed down to your children.”

“Do you think my boys want to leave Miami Beach to come and sit here all summer?”

“All you want is for us to hand over our homes so you can profit,” Daniel yelled.

“This again,” Aaron said and he pulled his hand through his hair. “You haven’t spoken to me or come to visit me in four years because I asked you to sign papers to protect your estate. Do you realize how much you’ve hurt me and my family?”

Daniel slammed his fist on the table rattling the poker chips. “Maryland signed her assets over to you, and you put her in a home. She belongs here with her friends and family, not stuck in a room with an Alzheimer’s patient who screams through the night. What you did to her was shameful, and you won’t do it to me.”

“That’s great, Dad. So what happens when you can’t take care of yourself like Maryland couldn’t?”

“She was fine.”

“She had a stroke and couldn’t see out of her left eye,” Aaron said.

“Then you should’ve come home to take care of her or hired a nurse. That’s what family does. You didn’t even bother to put up safety guards around the bathroom or install a Lifeline,” Daniel said.

Aaron shook his head, unable to speak for a moment. “There’s no talking to you. You don’t understand what it’s like to live in the modern world. I couldn’t afford a private nurse or to move back here. Patricia and I have full-time jobs and we can’t retire because money is tight. The taxes on this property are killing us. You live in this tiny community stuck in the past. The proceeds of Maryland’s house would belong to the nursing home if she hadn’t signed papers. When you need a care facility, they’re going to bleed your estate dry. I’m trying to protect you.”

Daniel slammed his fist again. “I’m not letting you put me in a home.”

“And what if there’s no choice? You people think that because you made a stupid promise to retire here, some magic fairy dust is going to keep you young. Look around, Dad. You’re getting older. You’re pretending, just like you did when I was a kid, you’re not seeing the reality that could come in just another ten years.”

“Pretending?” Daniel coughed and took a puff from his inhaler.

“This place was always a fantasy to you. You pretended we were like them. They’re rich Episcopalians. You were their Jewish accountant who had to be given this house. Now you want to pretend that this is the paradise of the glory days. Well, what happens when you can no longer drive and you can’t live alone?” Aaron asked.

Daniel forced his words through constricted airways. “So I should sign my house over to you so you can sell it and move me to a nursing home to die? What about passing down heritage and family traditions?”

“What’s my heritage? Two parents rescued from concentration
camps—not a house in Nagog. And when you can’t take care of yourself anymore, you’re going to lose this heritage because you didn’t sign the papers,” Aaron said. “And it’s not like I haven’t offered other solutions.”

“To sell my home and for me to move into some retirement place in Florida. No thanks,” Daniel said.

“You could be near your actual family.” Aaron took a deep breath. “I can’t do this right now, Dad. I didn’t come here to fight with you. I’m doing what needs to be done.”

Aaron moved past Daniel. Bill and Carl stood together and blocked his way to the door. “We won’t let you sell her house to a stranger,” Bill said. “We’ll take care of the taxes and the upkeep.”

“And what happens when you can’t do that any longer? Are you going to bleed your children’s inheritance dry? You don’t understand that I’m doing this community a favor. These homes are going to be hard enough to sell because of the age of the community. Selling this house to this young woman starts the process that needs to happen. Things have to change, whether you like it or not.” Aaron pointed his finger at them. “And the two of you better stay out of this. If you touch that house with any of your little pranks I will call the police. And Dad . . . I won’t bail you out.” He opened the door and closed it behind him.

Joseph put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. Aaron had never been comfortable in Nagog. For the other children, this community had been a place of sanctuary that created wonderful childhood memories when they visited, days of running through the sprinklers, Popsicles from the ice cream truck, and barbecues. Christmas transformed the street into a winter wonderland of lights and decorations. Parties were thrown and people danced on the patio.