“In her room but you can’t go up there right now.”
Isaac turned toward the stairs.
“Stop,” said Joseph. “The doctor said no more visitors.”
Isaac ignored him and kept walking in the direction of the stairs. Joseph was out of his chair in a split second, at Isaac’s side before he could fully consider his next move. He grabbed Isaac by the shoulder and yelled “Sit down!” in a voice far larger and louder than he’d ever used with his son-in-law, with anyone for that matter. Joseph watched Isaac wind back his arm, then watched it dawn on him that he was about to clock his father-in-law. “Please, sit down,” Joseph repeated, in a quieter voice than before.
Isaac unclenched his fist and returned it to his side. He looked around, found the nearest chair, and sank into it. Joseph followed, sitting in the chair next to him.
“Their plan is to try to let her get a little rest, and then take her to the labor room in a few hours.”
Isaac nodded vacantly. Did he even care?
“What’s going on, Isaac?” He didn’t smell like alcohol, just sweat.
Isaac didn’t answer.
“Is this about the Florida deal? I’m sorry I didn’t buy in.”
“It’s too late for any of that.”
“Investing or apologizing?”
Isaac let out a short laugh. “The first one. Or maybe both.”
“How much did you lose?”
“About five hundred. Plus everything my father had.”
Joseph turned his head to get a better look at his son-in-law. Was he hearing him correctly? “Does that include the money you took from Adler’s?”
It was Isaac’s turn to look surprised.
“Mrs. Simons figured it out,” said Joseph, “the new Northfield accounts.”
Isaac made no denials, didn’t even bother searching for an excuse.
How could a man who had so much always manage to believe he had so little? It was as if, looking at Isaac, Joseph could see straight through to the end of Fannie’s life. She might live a half century beyond her sister but she was always going to be burdened by a husband who was dissatisfied with his own existence, with hers as well. If Joseph did nothing, Fannie would drown, too, just much more slowly.
He did some quick calculations. Isaac had been repaying the loan for almost five years, which meant that more than a thousand dollars had accumulated in the account Joseph had established at the Boardwalk National Bank. In all the years Isaac had been making the payments, Joseph had never once considered forgiving his son-in-law’s debt. He thought of the money in the account as Fannie’s and imagined returning it to her eventually in the form of an inheritance or something more tangible that he could watch her enjoy. He had contemplated using it to help the couple buy a house or send Gussie to college. The trick, he had always known, would be to find the thing that Isaac’s greed couldn’t spoil, the thing he couldn’t beg, barter, or steal out from under Fannie’s nose. The thing that would most directly improve his daughter’s life. What if that thing was ridding her of Isaac?
“There’s a thousand dollars in the account at the Boardwalk National Bank,” Joseph said.
Isaac shot a glance at Joseph. “You’d let me have that?”
“With some stipulations.”
Isaac didn’t say anything, just sat up straighter in his chair. Joseph knew he had his attention. Was he really going to propose this?
“Leave town.”
“You want us to move?”
“Just you,” said Joseph. Then he held his breath.
It was possible that Isaac would let out a loud laugh and relay this offer to Fannie the first chance he got. Tonight? Tomorrow? After the baby’s safe arrival? In any of those scenarios, Joseph was sure to lose his remaining daughter. And Gussie, too. What would Fannie think of him if she learned he had tried, unsuccessfully, to buy off her husband? Other parents might be accused of meddling but this was something else altogether.
“For good?”
