Christmas in New York Read online

  “Yes,” he said, realizing what her words really meant, what they meant for him, for all of them.

  “Charlie’s still in trouble, isn’t he?” she asked.

  They’d told her the basics of Charlie’s situation.

  Simon nodded. “Yes, he is.”

  “Are you going to help him?”

  Simon thought for a moment, but he knew the answer before she’d even asked the question.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Can I help, too?”

  He looked down fondly at her. “I think you already have.”

  Chapter Eight

  CHARLIE LOOKED DOWN AT Charlotte like she was a rattlesnake coiling up and ready to strike.

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  “Just for a few hours,” Elizabeth said.

  “I got … um … things.”

  “Things?” Elizabeth said, knowing he was just stalling.

  “Yeah.” He said it half-heartedly, knowing he was doing a terrible job of trying to put them off. “I don’t know …”

  “We realize it’s an imposition,” Simon said. “But we really would be grateful if you’d look after her for us.”

  They didn’t have much choice. They’d found out that the alderman was going to be at an event that day and it might be a good place to learn more about him. See him in action, maybe find a weakness.

  They couldn’t leave Charlotte with Mrs. Blomster again. The poor woman was apoplectic about Charlotte escaping yesterday. Leaving her there again wasn’t an option. And if they were going to make any headway with the alderman, they had to leave her somewhere. Somewhere safe. There was only one person in town who fit that bill. Only one person they trusted.

  Charlie’s eyes crinkled as he started to shake his head.

  “I promise, she won’t be any trouble.” Elizabeth looked at her daughter for emphasis. “Will she?”

  Charlotte shook her head then traced an X over her heart. “Cross my heart.”

  Her face was so earnest that Charlie’s expression softened. “Well …”

  Elizabeth stepped forward and kissed his cheek before he could change his mind.

  “Thank you.”

  Charlie blushed and cleared his throat. He sighed and stepped out of the doorway. “All right, kid. Looks like it’s you and me.”

  “Yay!” Charlotte cried and bounced into the apartment, which was noticeably cleaner than it had been the last time they’d seen it.

  Charlie looked at Charlotte helplessly. Elizabeth patted his chest. “You’ll be fine.”

  He didn’t look so sure.

  “We’ll be back in a few hours,” Elizabeth said again and stepped away.

  Simon took her place and held out his hand. “Thank you.”

  Charlie shook it. “Sure.”

  Simon leaned in. “Despite her promises, don’t let her out of your sight.”

  Charlie smiled thinking Simon was joking, then realized he wasn’t. He turned to see where Charlotte was and laughed nervously. “Right.”

  As Charlie closed the door, Charlotte browsed his bookcase. There wasn’t much on it. A few little figurines and a boxing trophy. She found a small section of books and pulled one off the shelf. It was covered with dust. She blew on it sending a cloud out into the air.

  “You don’t read much, do you?” she asked.

  “Uh, yeah,” Charlie said, quickly stepping forward and taking the book. “Not much.”

  He put the book back in its place and looked at Charlotte. It was a long awkward moment before he found his voice again. “You do, huh? Like to read I mean?”

  Charlotte nodded. “I do.” She turned back to the shelf. “Some of my best friends are books.”

  Charlie didn’t say anything again and she could tell he was nervous. She didn’t know why, though.

  He picked a small newspaper. “I read the paper some.”

  He held it out to her and she took it. “The Daily Racing Form.” What’s that?”

  “It’s about horses.”

  Her face brightened. “Oh, I like horses. Have you ever read Black Beauty?”

  Charlie’s expression fell. “Well, it’s not exactly like that.”

  “Oh.”

  Charlie looked uncomfortable and she handed back the paper. He put it back down and they stood awkwardly for a moment before she quietly walked around the room to find something else to talk about.

  “You don’t have any decorations.”

  He didn’t seem to understand what she meant.

  “For Christmas.”

  “Oh, yeah,” his big cheeks jiggled as he shook his head. “Yeah, I’m not much for the holidays.”

  Charlotte nodded. That was sad. In fact, Charlie seemed sad, like there was a little cloud over him all the time. She wanted to help. Like her mom and dad were. She moved over to the sofa and sat down.

  “You know, I thought I saw you at Macy’s the other day. When Henry and I ran off and took the train to Penn Station. And then we walked to 34th Street and there it was. It’s so big. And then we went in and I ran into Santa.”

  “Did you?”

  “I ran right into him,” she said, slapping her hands together. “Bounced right off his belly. Fell smack dab to the ground and hit my head.”

  Charlie winced in sympathy.

  She touched the bump. “It’s almost gone but you can still feel it.”

  She reached out for his hand. He hesitated then sat down next to her and let her place his huge hand on the back of her head. He gently touched the spot.

  “See?” she said.

  “Yeah. Got a good knot there.”

  “I saw stars,” she said proudly then added quickly. “Don’t tell Mom and Dad that, though.”

  A chuckle bubbled up from deep down in his chest. She liked the sound.

  “I’ve seen stars more than a few times myself.”

  “You have?”

  He nodded and held up a finger asking her to wait while he took a picture album off the bottom shelf of his bookcase. Sitting back down next to her, he opened it.

  A grainy black and white photo of man wearing baggy shorts held up by a sashy belt and no shirt stared back at her. The man in the photo held up his hands, ready to fight. She looked at him and then at Charlie.

  “Is that you?”

  He looked at the picture, a wistful smile coming to his face. “I used to box a little.”

  She nodded toward a poster on the wall of a man with a big swirly mustache. “Is that you, too?”

  He laughed again.

  “No. That’s a champ. Between you and me, I wasn’t very good,” he said, turning the page to show another picture this one clipped from a newspaper. The headline read, Blue’s Blues, TKO in Ten. “That’s why I saw stars so much. All bad boxers do.”

  He stared down the page.

  Charlotte reached to turn it. “What else can you—”

  But he eased the book out of reach and closed it. “That’s enough of that.” He closed the album and put it on the coffee table.

  “So,” he said, clearly needing to change the conversation, “you thought you saw me at the store?”

  She nodded. “I thought you were Santa.”

  He laughed again but it was a little sad this time. He shook his head. “You really did hit your head. I ain’t no Santa, kid.”

  But you could be, she thought. You could be.

  He looked at her. It seemed like he could hear her thoughts and they embarrassed him. Clearing his throat, he got off the sofa and started toward the kitchen. He turned back. “So, are you hungry? I ain’t got much but … maybe some cold cuts? Kids like cold cuts? Oh, I got some good pickles the other day. Right out of the barrel.”

  He looked at her hopefully. “You like pickles?”

  She didn’t.

  “Sure.”

  Charlie grinned, happy to be doing something, and hurried off to get them.

  Charlotte watched him rummage through a squatty, heavy-looking metal refrige
rator, then she picked up the photo album again. Flipping past the first few pages of the boxing photos, she looked eagerly to see what else was there. But the rest of the pages were blank. Page after page with nothing in them. No photos, no clippings, nothing. Like his life after the first pages was just empty.

  “Here we go.” Charlie started back with the pickles and Charlotte closed the book and put it back before he saw.

  He sat down next to her and handed her a pickle, waiting for her to take a bite out of it.

  She did. It was sour and gross, but she smiled and nodded. “Good.”

  Charlie beamed and ate half of his in one bite.

  ~~~

  Henry sat on his bed and silently stewed. Between Tommy and Margaret being taken by the alderman for some stupid gala thing and his guilt over yesterday, he wasn’t having a good day.

  He felt like a coward. He shouldn’t have run but her father looked like a brewing storm when he’d spotted them. Running was probably the smart thing to do but he still didn’t like it.

  Charlotte was nice. He was sure she was getting heck for what they did and he was just as much to blame as she was. He should have taken the heat for it, for her.

  “Why so glum?”

  Henry looked up and saw Mrs. Adler smiling down at him.

  He wasn’t in the mood to talk to her and turned away.

  She sat down anyway.

  “Henry.”

  He chewed on his lip and glanced at her over his shoulder. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Sometimes you need to.” She waited but he didn’t say anything. He could wait her out. He could wait anyone out.

  “Did someone do something?” she asked.

  He clamped his jaw shut.

  “Did you?”

  He glared at her then turned back away.

  “I know whenever I make a mistake I always feel better if I apologize.”

  Henry snorted.

  “That wasn’t nice, Henry,” she said. “Now, what’s going on?”

  He turned to face her. “You can stop pretending, you know.”

  She looked confused. “Pretending?”

  “Pretending you care. I know you don’t. None of you do.”

  “Henry.”

  “I thought you were one of the good ones, but you’re just like him.”

  “Like who?”

  She could play innocent if she wanted but she wasn’t fooling him. “The alderman. Was it your idea to bring Tommy or Quinlan’s? The gimp always brings more money.”

  She drew back in surprise. “What?”

  “They took Tommy to parade around like some Coney Island freak show. And Margaret, too.”

  “Wait. What are you talking about?”

  “Like you don’t know.”

  She reached out and took hold of his forearm. “I don’t. Honestly.”

  She looked sincere, but he’d been burned before. He stood. “Why don’t you ask your boss? And while you’re at it, ask him why Quinlan gives him a cut from what we collect for the fundraiser?”

  Mrs. Adler opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out.

  “Yeah,” Henry said. “That’s what I thought.”

  He stormed off. She called after him, but he ignored her and ran down the hall and out the side door.

  The cold air felt good. Although, it was pretty cold. He’d left without his jacket but he wasn’t going back for it now. Maybe not ever.

  ~~~

  By the time Simon and Elizabeth arrived, a crowd had already gathered. Simon paid the cab driver and came around to help Elizabeth out of the car.

  She looked up at the marble façade, read the sign above the high arched door, and smiled. Horn & Hardart Co. She’d seen their name all over the city and knew what was inside. She’d wanted to go to one since they’d first arrived and now she finally had a chance.

  “An automat!” she said.

  Simon looked dubious. “And with a pool hall above it.”

  “A Billiard Academy,” she said.

  “I stand corrected.”

  He took her arm and they joined the crowd funneling through the revolving door.

  Knowing they had to get more information on the alderman if they were going to help Charlie, they’d figured out his schedule. It wasn’t hard. A morning call from their hotel room to his office told them all they needed to know. Alderman Scarpetti was making appearances all day. Horn & Hardart was his lunch stop.

  Elizabeth’s suggestion that they use the alderman’s absence as an opportunity to poke around his office was met with a resounding veto. He was probably right. Elizabeth wasn’t above a little B&E but breaking into City Hall might be pushing things.

  So they’d agreed to see if they could learn something at one of the alderman’s stops. And that brought them here.

  As impressive as the outside of the automat was, the inside was even better. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected. She’d seen them in movies like That Touch of Mink but being there was even better. The room was surprisingly elegant with marble table tops and silver accents. The walls were lined with perfect rows and columns of little windows. They were divided into different sections like pies, doughnuts, pastries, sandwiches, bread & rolls, hot dishes, and salads. There were two separate coffee stations offering coffee or coffee and cream from silver spigots that came out of the wall. All could be had for just a nickel or two.

  The alderman posed for the cameras and a handful of reporters as he shook hands with a man she guessed was the owner. Next to them on an easel was a large pasteboard announcing a Fundraising Christmas Gala for The Eleanor Hellman Orphan Asylum for Destitute and Abandoned Children.

  “Asylum,” she said, hating the way the word sounded

  “Hmm?” Simon said.

  She pointed to the sign.

  “Looks to be our alderman’s pet cause.”

  He was right. The alderman’s face was plastered all over the poster, just like it would be in the paper tomorrow for his good deeds today.

  Once the photo op was finished the alderman lifted his hand and quieted the crowd.

  “Quite a turnout. Glad to see you all here. Marvin,” he said, pointing at a man in the front, “good to see you. Helen.”

  “Thank you for coming. And thank you to Horn & Hardart for their gracious participation in today’s festivities.”

  He waved off to the side and Captain Quinlan escorted a boy and girl to join the alderman. The boy tottered from side to side as he walked, struggling with the metal braces on his legs. The little girl wore fuzzy gloves and held his hand until they were forced to stand on either side of the alderman.

  He put a hand on their shoulders.

  “As you all know, we’re raising money for the orphans. Kids like Tommy and Margaret here. Now, the people who look after these kids do a great job. A great job. Not an easy job either. That’s why we’re here. We’re here to show them that New York isn’t just a big city, but a big city with an even bigger heart.”

  The crowd enthusiastically applauded.

  He smiled with perfected faux humility and held up hand to quiet them again.

  The crowd ate it up, except for a man standing close by. He was less than impressed.

  “Today,” the alderman went on, “all the proceeds raised here today go to these adorable kids.”

  He smiled down at Tommy and Margaret who looked like they’d rather be anywhere else.

  “Now, I know you’re all gonna dig deep. But sometimes, you need a little help, right?” he said with a conspiratorial wink. “You know what I’m talkin’ about, right, Peachie?”

  One of the men in the crowd laughed and others joined in.

  The disapproving man next to them grunted. “Help,” he muttered under his breath.

  “So,” the alderman continued and waved over to Quinlan. “We’re gonna get you started.”

  Quinlan brought over a large and, from the looks of it, heavy burlap sack and put it on the table next to the alderman.


  The alderman unwound the rope that tied the top of the bag together and reached in. He pulled out a handful of coins.

  “One nickel at a time.”

  The crowd cheered again.

  “Now, if you all will just line up. Nice and neat. I’m gonna be Santa a little early.”

  No one needed to be told twice and everyone quickly formed a line that snake around the room.

  “Excuse me,” Elizabeth said to the man near them. “I couldn’t help but notice. You’re not a fan of the alderman?”

  The man snorted. “Me? Not exactly.” He turned back to glare at Scarpetti. “Ran against him last election.”

  “I see,” Simon said.

  The man shook his head. “I shoulda known better. Can’t beat the machine.”

  “Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?” Simon asked.

  The man laughed bitterly. “About my failure? Thanks, but no thanks. You lot did a number on me already.”

  He nodded toward the reporters scribbling in their notebooks.

  “We’re not press.”

  “No? Just regular people?”

  Elizabeth nodded.

  “I was regular people. Now I’m nobody.” He put on his hat.

  “Do yourself a favor and get as far away from Alderman Scarpetti as you can.”

  He tugged on the brim in a polite goodbye and cut through the line toward the door.

  Simon watched him go a frown coming to his face. “Perhaps, he’s got a—”

  “Come on,” Elizabeth said as she tugged on Simon’s arm.

  “Where?”

  “Free lunch,” Elizabeth said and tugged on his arm to get him in line.

  “Elizabeth.”

  “Come on.”

  He sighed heavily but he let her drag him to the end of the line.

  He was not going to like what came next, but if they couldn’t get to the alderman from the outside, it might be time for a little inside game. He obviously found her attractive if his reaction to her at city hall was any example. If she could get close to him, maybe he might slip up, even just a little. It was playing with fire but they didn’t have many options.

  The room was large but the line moved quickly. The alderman glad-handed his way through it with a handshake and two nickels per person.