Vanished

“I played with Alexander Wilson. He has a train,”he said with enormous importance, and went on to explain to her how it worked, how there were little bridges set up and villages and stations, and how he wished he'd gotten one for his birthday. His birthday had been two weeks before. December was a strange month for her, so much to rejoice over, so much to mourn.

“Maybe Santa Claus will bring you a train.” In fact, she knew that Malcolm had already bought one, and there had been men working in the basement for weeks, to set up a special train room, with mountains and hills and lakes and exactly the kind of villages he had just described seeing at the Wilsons'.

“I hope so.” He looked pensive, and then he smiled up at her again, moving imperceptibly closer. He loved being close to her, smelling her perfume, feeling the silk of her hair, and letting her kiss him the way she had when she first saw him. She was the most exciting person he knew, and he loved her more than anything …even trains …”Did you do something nice today?” He always asked, as though he really cared, just as he asked Malcolm and Brigitte how things were at the office. It made Malcolm smile. And he always said Brigitte was very beautiful, almost as beautiful as his mommy, which pleased the girl from Berlin. She thought him an adorable child, and Marielle had allowed her to take him to the zoo on several occasions, and once she had taken him to the Empire State Building, which he said was the most exciting thing he'd ever done. When he came home that day he'd been so emphatic, he even told Brigitte he loved her.

“I went to church today,” Marielle said quietly, as Miss Griffin watched her. Teddy looked surprised, usually, he went with her, but today he hadn't.

“Is today Sunday?”

“No,” she smiled, wondering if she would ever tell him. Perhaps when he was a man, she suspected even now that one day he would be the kind of person you could talk to. “But I went anyway.”

“Was it nice?” She nodded. It had been “nice” …and sad …and she had seen Charles, after all these years. She hadn't had the courage to tell him about Teddy. It seemed unfair. He was fighting wars in Spain, risking his life, perhaps hoping to die, as she had. But now she had this wonderful child, this ray of hope and sunshine to fill her days and life. On this particular day of the year, she couldn't bring herself to tell Charles that she'd had another baby. All she had told him was about Malcolm. And she knew she wouldn't call him again. She couldn't … it wasn't right … he was part of another lifetime.

“I went to Saint Patrick's Cathedral. You know, the big, big church. We went there last year, at Easter.”

He nodded, like a small, wise man. “I remember. Can we go again?” He liked watching the ice skaters across the street, at Rockefeller Center.

She stayed with him for a long time, talking to him, holding him, and reading him a story, until Miss Griffin said it was time for his bath, and Teddy turned imploringly to look at his mother.

“Can't you stay? Please …” She wanted to, more than anything, but she knew that disrupting Miss Griffin's routine was a breach of conduct the nurse would not easily forgive her.

“I can give him his bath,” she said hesitantly, knowing full well what was going to be the reaction. Miss Griffin hated interference.

“There's no need, thank you, Mrs. Patterson.” She stood up crisply. “Kiss your mother good night, please, Theodore, and tell her you'll see her in the morning.” It was a hint of sorts. And Marielle understood it.

“But I don't want to see her in the morning. I want to see her now …” And I want to see you now too, she wanted to tell him … I want to give you your bath, and make dinner for you, and put you in my bed and hold you till you fall asleep, and kiss your little eyes and cheeks and nose while you're sleeping. But they wouldn't let her do things like that. She had to visit the nursery, and have tea with him, and say good night to him hours before bedtime.

“We'll go to the park tomorrow, sweetheart. Maybe to the boat pond.”

“There's a birthday party at the Oldenfields' tomorrow afternoon, Mrs. Patterson.” Marielle was clearly interfering with their more important social engagements.

“Then I'll take him in the morning.” She looked at Miss Griffin defiantly, but to no avail, the older woman always won, and she had Malcolm's support and knew it. Marielle always felt so powerless here, so out of control, as though she didn't exist and had never existed. “We'll go tomorrow morning.” She looked at Teddy reassuringly but there were tears running down his little round cheeks anyway. Tomorrow was too far away, for both of them, and he knew it.