Florence Adler Swims Forever(59)
“Bette, should I be worried?”
Bette closed the book with a sharp clap, as if she’d suddenly remembered herself. “There’s no need,” she said briskly as she walked around the bed and replaced the book on Fannie’s bedside table. She met Fannie’s eyes and offered a sweet smile, but when she straightened her cap, which didn’t need adjustment as far as Fannie could tell, Fannie knew she was lying.
* * *
One person who did not appear to be at all worried by Fannie’s mounting blood pressure was Isaac. He came and went from the hospital as if it were F. W. Woolworth’s and he was ticking his obligations off an imaginary list: knock lightly, kiss wife on head, sit but not too comfortably lest wife believe you might stay for a while, explain why you haven’t visited in several days, indicate you have a very important meeting for which you mustn’t be late, look at watch several times, stand and stretch, remark on how the time has flown, kiss wife once more. Most of the time, he was in and out of the room within half an hour.
Fannie could put up with the long absences but she worried about what they were doing to Gussie. Between her mother’s silence on the subject, the strange way Gussie had acted on her last visit, and the little information she managed to drag out of Isaac, Fannie felt sure he wasn’t visiting their daughter. At least not frequently enough for her liking. Fannie knew she was biased but she actually thought Gussie was good company. She was funny and quick and kind, and behind her eyes, which were as big as oceans, there was a light of understanding that Fannie recognized as both familiar and extraordinary. What must it be doing to her to feel so pitifully ignored by her own father?
Lately, Fannie had begun to wonder if there might be something wrong with Isaac. He’d spent the whole of his last visit talking about a trip to Florida he wanted to take with Fannie and Gussie after the baby was born.
“We can take the train down,” he had said from the edge of his seat. “See the Everglades. Jim says you can pay a guide to take you through the wetlands by boat.”
“The Everglades?” Fannie repeated, slowly.
“Sure. In Florida.”
“I know where they are.”
“There are alligators and sea turtles and all sorts of birds. Gussie would love it.”
“You want to take a newborn baby to the tropics in the heat of summer? Are you mad?”
“It’d just be for a few weeks. Long enough to take a look around. Put my eyes on some land that’s up for sale in Palm Beach County.”
“Land?”
“Jim gave me a tip on a parcel of land. Near Lake Okeechobee. About a hundred acres off Conners Highway.”
“You want to buy land in Florida?”
“Prices are low.”
“Didn’t Florida go bust?”
“That’s why it’s such a good investment.”
“Isaac,” she said slowly, trying to get his full attention, “we can’t even pay for this room.”
“Yes, well—”
“And what about a house? Or paying back my father?”
“This deal is what’s going to get us there. I’ll hold on to the land for a few years and when we go to sell, I’ll make a good profit.”
“Please tell me you haven’t already signed.”
“All I’ve bought is the binder.”
“Is it refundable?”
Isaac looked at her like she didn’t have a clue in her head. “A binder is a deposit.”
“That you can or can’t get back?”
“I’ve got forty-five days to get together the rest of the money.”
“You’re not answering my question,” Fannie persisted. “If you don’t raise the rest of the money or if your wife loses her mind, can you get it back?”
“No.”
Fannie suddenly felt short of breath.
“But, Fan, I’ll raise the money.”
She grabbed hold of her stomach with both hands and tried to concentrate on taking deep, slow breaths, like the kind she took when Bette or one of the other nurses took her blood pressure. Had sheer irritation ever sent a woman into early labor?
“Fan?”
She was reluctant to meet Isaac’s gaze, scared that if she did, she might say something she’d later regret. Eventually, she let out a long sigh and turned to face her husband. “I can’t talk about this now.”
Her head pounded. Dr. Rosenthal had warned her to pay attention to her body’s signals. Headaches, stomach pains, and swelling in the legs could all be signs that something was wrong. Of course, those symptoms could also be signs that she was eight months pregnant and feeling extremely anxious and put out. She leaned back against her pillows, permanently propped upright, and closed her eyes. When she did so, did the pressure subside? She thought it did.
“I want to—” Isaac started to say, but Fannie held up a hand to stop him. She was so tired of his big ideas, of never having a cent to their name. With her eyes shut tight, she could pretend he wasn’t in the room, wasn’t in the process of throwing over their life.
Fannie breathed slowly, in and out.
Eventually she fell asleep but, when she did, she dreamed she was in the Florida wetlands. The baby, so newly born, was missing, and Fannie waded through brackish water, calling its name at the top of her lungs. The mud along the bank was thick, and her feet couldn’t get good purchase. Eventually she was forced to swim but the weight of her wet nightgown slowed her progress, as did the alligators that nipped at the hem. After what felt like hours of swimming but was probably only minutes, Fannie discovered the baby, afloat atop a giant lily pad. The baby was motionless and pale and shimmered in the hot sun, as if it had been submerged in the water for several hours first. Three vultures circled overhead. Fannie screamed, trying to ward off the birds, but now she couldn’t recall the baby’s name. In her confusion, she screamed, “Florence!”