Ed Lynch whistled a cheerful tune as he knotted his necktie. He was taking his wife and eldest daughter into the city today to do some shopping. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll buy a new car while I’m out, he thought.
The doorbell buzzed, signaling the arrival of Maureen Delanoy, who had made a hit with the Lynch twins in the past few days. The pretty, vivacious teenager was armed with a bag full of toys and simple games that she used on sitting jobs. Ed let her into the apartment and took her coat from her.
"Thanks for coming today. I’m not sure what time we’ll be back. My wife and Diana are shopping for clothes in the city, and I have to run a few errands," he told her. "Is there a certain time you have to be home?"
"No, Mr. Lynch, I’m clear all day. As long as you’re back before ten o’clock, there’s no problem."
"I hope the kids won’t make you change your mind." Ed laughed, but then said, "We’ll give you a call at noon and maybe again later on to check on how it’s going. If anything else comes up, just call your mother. I’m sure she’ll be able to help, and you won’t be able to reach us. By the way, there are soft drinks in the refrigerator and chips if you want a snack. Margaret will show you what the kids are allowed to eat."
After Margaret had shown Maureen what to fix for the twins’ lunch and supper, and where the first-aid supplies were kept, she gave a rundown of their schedule, then called the children into the living room.
Larry and Terry came running out of their room, and Diana walked more slowly from her own room, with a sister on each hip. The boys were excited to see their new friend, and she squatted down to give each one a hug. "Larry, I’ve got some special dinosaurs that wanted to come and visit you today. And Terry, I’ve got a Carry-All -- one of those trucks that carries a whole bunch of cars on it. We can load your cars up and take them on a cross-country trip. Won’t that be fun?"
"Yeah! Cool!" was Terry’s response, while Larry begged, "Can we get the special dinosaurs out now?"
"Not until your parents leave, Larry. Now, let me see these two girls. Do you want to go swing, Margie and Barbie?" Maureen took the little ones from Diana, and they stared at her with big blue eyes. Margie clutched a string of rubber teething beads, and Barbie was rubbing her face with a soft piece of blanket.
"Well, Maureen, do you have any questions? I hate to leave you alone with them all day." Margaret was still not sure she had made the right decision. She had never left her children all day in the care of someone else... well, not since the girls were just a few months old. That was different – it was my own sister-in-law. And I was here. I just needed help. She gave a tiny shudder at the memory of those dark days just after her daughters were born, when she thought she’d never sleep again, and Ed was working such long days that she scarcely saw him.
"No, Mrs. Lynch. I think we’ll be fine. My mom will be home today, and I can call her if anything comes up. Mr. Lynch said you’d call at lunchtime and later in the afternoon."
"All right, then. I think we’re ready. Kids, kiss your mom and big sister goodbye." Ed was his usual jovial self. Kisses were exchanged and the younger Lynches watched their parents and sister leave without crying.
Ed has spent so many years driving a delivery truck in and around the city that he knows his way around and has nerves of steel, Margaret thought. She herself sat silently in the front seat, paralyzed with fear in the crush of traffic. While they were stopped at a traffic light, she chanced a look into the back seat where Diana sat, quietly reading a book. She doesn’t seem the least bit frightened. And I’m not, not really. Ed knows what he’s doing and I trust him. She took a deep breath and met Ed’s glance with a smile.
"We’re almost there, Margie-girl. You and Diana can shop Macy’s to your heart’s content. I’ll drop you off in front and pick you up in a couple of hours."
"All right, Ed. Let’s set our watches. We’ll be out front at noon to meet you." Margaret reached over and kissed her husband on the lips, then spoke to her daughter. "Are you ready to buy some new clothes, darling?"
"Oh, yes, Mummy! I think it will be fun to shop. Can we get some new outfits for the little ones, too?"
"Yes, I have all of their sizes written down."
"Here we are, Margaret." Ed pulled swiftly into a spot that was reserved for loading and unloading, directly in front of Macy’s. He exited the car and moved quickly around to open the passenger doors for his wife and daughter.
"Now, don’t buy out the store!" he teased.
"We won’t, Daddy!" Diana reached up to give her father a hug, and waited while her mother embraced him in turn.
"Are you ready, sweetie? Let’s go pick out some new clothes." In spite of a resolution to be calm and blasé about shopping Macy’s, Margaret couldn’t help a flutter of anticipation at the idea of shopping in the world-famous department store. Although Sleepyside was less than an hour from the city, she had never shopped there. She grasped her daughter’s hand firmly as they wandered the aisles, both of them craning their necks at the mannequins costumed in the latest mod styles from Carnaby Street.
At the end of two hours, they were waiting for Ed on the sidewalk in front of the store, arms loaded with shopping bags. Diana had found several winter outfits, with bell-bottom pants for casual wear, and miniskirts, ribbed pullovers, and tights for school. They had selected clothing for the twins from Health-tex, Carter’s, and other top children’s lines, which the Lynches had never been able to afford before. Matching outfits and even new shoes – they will be so cute! Margaret exulted. She had tried on a number of dresses before finding the perfect cocktail dress for George Rainsford’s art exhibit/ party. It was a lucky thing I wore a new girdle, so that I didn’t have to find one today. Two hours went by a lot faster than I thought it would! We’ll have to come back in the afternoon to try on shoes, then visit the beauty salon and have our hair done. I wondered for a minute if they were going to be able to fit us into their schedule.
Diana had been scanning the street for a sight of the white Buick. "Mummy, I hope he isn’t lost," she said. "Oh! Now that big black car is blocking the street. I hope he can see us."
Margaret looked up, just in time to see her husband strolling around the black car and tossing keys into the air, catching them with an easy flick of the wrist. His face wore a satisfied grin and his bright blue eyes twinkled.
"How do you girls like my new wheels?" he asked them, picking up two bags in each hand.
"It looks kind of like the Batmobile," Diana offered.
Margaret stared at the gleaming car, with its glittering chrome grille. "It must be over twenty feet long!" she exclaimed.
"It is. Watch this, Margie-girl; look, Diana." Ed opened the passenger door, reached into the glove compartment, and pressed a button. A cavernoustrunk was revealed as the lid raised without the touch of a hand. "Remote control trunk lock," Ed explained. He laid the bags inside and added, "Better hustle inside before the ten-minute limit is up! We have reservations at Sardi’s for lunch today. Did you get all of your shopping done?"
"Daddy! That is so cool! How did you do it?" Diana was amazed. She climbed into the spacious interior with its cushioned gray velour rear seat, bounced on the padded surface, and inhaled the new-car scent.
Ed closed the front and rear passenger doors and strode around to the driver’s side. Only after starting the engine did he reply to her question. "Sweetie, that’s called a remote-control trunk lock – just press a button to lock or unlock the trunk. It’s one of the many features that makea Cadillac Fleetwood Seventy-Five one of the most luxurious cars on the road. Feel how smooth the ride is – what a suspension!" He began to wax lyrical about the car’s features. Margaret half-listened to the recitation as he spoke.
"...Turbo-Hydra-Matic transmission, ...power steering, brakes, windows, and front-seat adjustment, ...automatic climate control, automatic level control, right-hand outside mirror and power vent windows."
At least I think I understand what most of those mean, she thought. He ventured into more esoteric territory when he began to describe the engine quality: V-8, overhead valves, cast iron block, 472 cubic inches displacement, compression ratio, hydraulic valve lifters, Rochester Quadrajet four-barrel carburetor... and more. When he finally paused for breath, she spoke up.
"Ed, you’ll have to invite Tommy Delanoy over and show him all the wonderful things about this car. He’ll be able to appreciate it." Margaret smiled as she patted his hand. "All I know is that it’s beautiful, and if it’s what you want, that’s enough for me."
Following their lunch at the famous theatrical landmark, Ed returned Margaret and Diana to Macy’s, where Margaret selected handbags and shoes to coordinate with the two new cocktail dresses and the new dress suit she had chosen for church and possible daytime luncheon events. Then she and Diana visited the in-store beauty salon where Diana’s hair was styled in a flip and Margaret asked the stylist to fix her hair in a style suitable for a cocktail party. In the end, half of it was pulled up and piled on top of her head, while the remaining hair was curved under smoothly about an inch above her shoulders.
"Mummy, your hair looks pretty like that," Diana told her when it was finished.
"I didn’t think I’d like it, but I do. I just hope your father likes it," Margaret responded.
Again they had set a time to meet Ed at the front of the store. Margaret looked up and down the street, craning her neck for a sight of her husband. She was startled to hear a familiar voice behind her which said, "Pardon me, but have you seen a very beautiful, black-haired lady and a lovely young girl who looks just like her?"
"Ed! You devil! What in the world have you got in your arms?" She stared at the suit-sized box in his arms.
"My dear Margaret, I have always wanted to buy you a mink coat. So today, I did."
"My goodness! What in the world will you think of next?" She smiled at him. "How do you like my hair?"
"Hmmm, it’s a little shorter. But it’s very pretty. It brings out your eyes." Ed grinned back at her.
As they drove back to Sleepyside, Margaret heard more about all of the wonderful features of the new car.
I can’t believe this is us. It’s like we’re living in a dream!
Saturday, October 28
"Ed, I hope I don’t just freeze up! I want to be an asset to you." Margaret nervously patted her hair, styled again as it had been done at Macy’s. She wore one of her new dresses, a cocktail dress of dark blue with an attractive mock-wrap front panel. Soft diagonal pleats created a flattering neckline, and the dark color was slenderizing. The couple stood at the door to George Rainsford’s penthouse apartment. It was the night of the James Cantor art exhibit and Margaret was busy suppressing the butterflies in her stomach.
"Ed, Margaret, I’m glad you could make it. Come on in and meet James and the other guests." George Rainsford opened the door himself. The dignified attorney extended a hand to Ed, and made a courtly bow to Margaret.
"George, I’m glad we could come. We hope to be able to commission Mr. Cantor to do some paintings for us," Ed told their host.
"Have you moved into your new home yet?" Mr. Rainsford asked.
"No, there is still some work to do there. The house had been unoccupied for several years, and there were a few repairs needed that we didn’t notice at first. We're still in our old apartment now, but I’m considering renting a house for six months or so. I’m afraid it’s going to take longer than I planned, and we could really use some extra space. However, there aren’t too many houses available for rent that are large enough and in good enough shape. The Manor House, out on Glen Road, is a little too big, and it needs a lot of work. It wouldn’t be ready any sooner than the house we bought."
"Well, that’s too bad. But let’s hope that once you’ve moved, that will be it." The attorney turned to a young woman who stood just beyond him. "Alice, here are some people I’d like for you to meet. Ed and Margaret Lynch, this is my niece, Alice Rainsford. Alice serves as my hostess frequently, since I’m not as fortunate as you are, Ed." He inclined his head toward Margaret. "My dear, Ed and Margaret are from Sleepyside, a charming village about an hour from the city. Ed has recently made a very successful investment, and is interested in choosing and commissioning some artwork. Why don’t you take them and introduce them to James and the other guests?"
"Certainly, Uncle." Alice was an attractive woman in her late thirties, Margaret estimated. Older than I thought at first. She extended a hand to Ed and then to Margaret. Her face wore a welcoming smile, and she was dressed very simply in a beautifully cut black gown accented with a string of pearls at the neck. She walked with ease and confidence through the little clusters of people who gathered at each painting, speaking briefly to each one and introducing the Lynches. Margaret envied her social grace and wondered if she would ever learn to do as Alice was doing.
As she was introduced to each group of people, Margaret tried to keep up her end of the conversation. However, she soon felt that she should have spent her time at the library studying the Social Register, the Women’s World section of the Times, and back issues of Parade, rather than learning about James Cantor and his art. Most of the conversation dealt with the guests’ social calendars and she was definitely an outsider there.
"Ah, here are Matthew and Madeleine Wheeler," Alice announced. "Come with me to meet them." Margaret looked back to the foyer, where George Rainsford was greeting a couple who appeared to be about the age of the Lynches. A tall, redheaded man had his arm around a slender, graceful woman in a lovely one-shouldered aqua cocktail dress. Her hair was the color of honey, a smooth light brown with golden strands which seemed to catch the light and almost sparkle. Lustrous pearl earrings enhanced her fair skin, and as they drew closer, Margaret could see that Madeleine Wheeler had enormous hazel eyesfringed with thick dark lashes. Her makeup was flawless and skillfully applied to enhance each delicate feature.
As Alice spoke to the Wheelers, they turned to greet the Lynches with friendly smiles.
"Ed Lynch! It’s good to finally meet you. Rainsford here has been singing your praises. I hope we can take some time to discuss the new proposal I made. I’d like to have you on my team." Matthew Wheeler’s voice was assured and confident, and he grasped Ed’s hand in a firm handshake. Turning to Margaret, he fixed a magnetic green gaze on her and said, "So this is your lovely wife. Margaret, it’s a pleasure to meet you. You and Maddie will have to compare notes. I understand you have a daughter about the age of ours."
"Yes, Diana is eleven. I didn’t realize you had a daughter, Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler." Margaret felt tongue-tied in the presence of one of New York’s wealthiest young men. She felt her face growing crimson.
"Please! My friends call me Matt." The redhead flashed a grin that made Margaret feel like she had known him for a long time.
"Matt, of course she didn’t know about Honey! We try to keep her name out of the papers. We want her to have a normal life and not to be hounded by paparazzi." Madeleine Wheeler’s voice was low and musical, and she gave a little laugh at the end of her statement, but Margaret was surprised to see that her face suddenly looked very sad. However, Maddie smiled and took her hand, saying, "Let’s go meet James and look at some of his paintings here. Matt has commissioned him to paint my portrait and I want to see what his work is like. Let’s leave these men to discuss their business. And please, call me Maddie."
As Margaret and Maddie strolled through the paintings on display, Maddie gave a running commentary on each work, and Margaret began to feel that her own research had not been wasted. She felt able to discuss the artist and his work with some confidence. The two women spent a few moments in conversation with James Cantor before moving on to another group of guests.
One woman was holding forth to a group. "I have never been so aggravated and embarrassed in my life! That was the toughest pork roast Ihave ever tasted. And the sauce – no flavor whatever! What must my guests have thought?"
A chorus of murmured sympathy greeted the tirade. Margaret and Maddie had just joined the group. Feeling more confident with Maddie at her side, Margaret was able to contribute to the conversation for the first time. "Did you cook it in a covered roaster in the oven? I have a delicious recipe for pork roast and herbed gravy. It’s easy, and comes out perfectly every time. I can give it to you if you like."
"My dear, I don’t have a clue how my cook fixed it. But I’m telling you, it had better not happen again. She had better learn to be more careful! I don’t pay her to ruin my food." She lifted a lorgnette and stared at Margaret as if she was a specimen.
Once more, Margaret felt humiliated and out of her element. Maddie had been turned away form her, saying goodbye to a departing guest. Suddenly, Margaret sensed her new acquaintance next to her. The slim body was vibrating with suppressed anger, but her voice was icily pleasant as she said,"Celeste, I’ve often wished I knew my way around a kitchen. One of the most embarrassing moments of my life was when our nurse had gone out for the eveningand neither Matt nor I knew how to turn on the stove to heat a bottle of formula for our daughter. Margaret is lucky, she’ll never have to be so helpless." With that, she took Margaret’s arm and steered her back to where Matt and Ed were standing among a group of men.
Tuesday, November 28
"Mrs. Lynch, you have a condition called prolapsed uterus. It means that your womb has dropped. This is caused by weakness of the pelvic floor muscles. In your case, that probably resulted form having two multiple pregnancies so close together."
"What can I do, Dr. Ferris?" Margaret wasn’t entirely surprised. Her mother-in-law had experienced the same kind of symptoms she had noticed, and suggested the probable cause. I’m only worried about maybe having to have an operation.
"How long have you been having symptoms?"
"Um, well, really ever since my last twins were born everything hasn’t gone back to normal. But I keep having this pressure… down there… and lately I’ve had trouble if I laugh, cough, or sneeze."
"The only treatment for complete prolapse is a hysterectomy. The pelvic floor muscles have completely lost their tone, and nothing short of surgery can fix that. I’ll set you up with Dr. Tremaine. As you know, I’m not a surgeon. He is, and he has records on you since he did your C-section. He’s a fine doctor and I think you’ll feel much better afterward."
"Well … let me talk to Ed and to Father Healy before you do that. If I have a hysterectomy, I won’t be able to have any more children. I … I don’t know how the Church feels about that. Not that I really want any more – I think five is enough, don’t you?"
"Five children is a good-sized family." The kindly doctor smiled and patted her hand. "I think it’s much more important for those children to have a healthy mother caring for them than to save that uterus. Even if you were able to become pregnant again, you would most likely lose the pregnancy because of the prolapse."
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned." Kneeling in the tiny confessional, behind the grille which separated her from the priest, Margaret conscientiously recited her sins of the past two weeks. In the years since she was baptized into the Catholic Church, she had fulfilled the cliché about converts being more faithful to the Church than so-called "cradle Catholics". She attended Mass, went to confession, and prayed the Rosary regularly. Until now, the controversy over Humanae Vitae, the Pope’s new encyclical that discussed birth control, hadn’t affected her. Now she was almost afraid of what Father Healy might tell her.
Today she had waited until the very end of the line of penitents in order to have some time to speak to the priest without delaying other people.
"Father, it’s Margaret Lynch," she said. "I have a problem, and I need your advice."
"Of course, my child. What is the problem?"
"Dr. Ferris told me I need a hysterectomy because my womb has fallen." The embarrassing words poured out in a rush. "If I do that, I won’t be able to have any more children. Would that be a sin?"
"Margaret, is there nothing else that can be done for the condition?"
"No, Father. Dr. Ferris says there’s no way of keeping it... up inside where it belongs."
"Think about it this way. If you don’t have the surgery, will you be willing and able to have more children?"
"Ah, we haven’t even been able to have... um... relations... because of this. So I don’t see how I could."
"In that case, I think the surgery is necessary for your health. So there is no problem from a faith standpoint."
"Oh, Father, thank you. Thank you!"
"Ed, Father Healy said it wouldn’t be a sin to have the hysterectomy. So I guess I will let Dr. Ferris set it up."
"Margie-girl, of course it’s not a sin. I’m sure God wants you healthy, with me and the kids, instead of walking around worrying about your womb falling out. You get it set up, and I’ll go to the staffing agency and let them know we’ll be ready to move in before Christmas. I want to be sure we’ll have enough staff that you won’t have to worry about a thing while you’re recuperating."
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Part 3 follows...
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