by Lynn Austin
“You mean your relatives?”
“In a sense. I meant the Jewish people.”
“Oh. I’ll bet you wish this war would end so your son could come home.”
“Yes. He has a wife and little girl now. I have never met them.”
Esther suddenly understood the tie she felt with Mr. Mendel. He must miss his family the same way she missed Mama . . . and now Daddy, who was far away, too. But at least she still had Peter, even if he couldn’t talk to her. Peter could keep her company at night and walk to school beside her and sit beside her at the table as they ate their meals. And she still had Grandma Shaffer, too, even if she had been mean to Peter the last time they had visited her. How awful it must be to live all alone like Mr. Mendel.
“Do you have any other children, besides your son?”
“No, he is the only one.”
“Do you have any other relatives? Sisters and brothers?”
“Yes, I have two brothers, but they did not come to America when I did. They are still in Hungary, where Avraham is. I am trying to find out what has happened to all of them, but there is no longer any mail service.”
“Is that your son’s name? Avraham?” Mr. Mendel nodded. “Peter and I don’t have any family close by, either. That’s why Penny Goodrich had to move in with us. Grandma Shaffer can’t take care of us because she’s too old and doesn’t have any room in her house. We have an aunt named Gloria – she’s Uncle Steve’s wife – but nobody likes her because she’s Italian.”
The drainboard had become too full to hold any more dishes, so Esther pulled a dish towel from the hook and began drying them. “They go up here? In this cupboard?” she asked.
“Yes, please. What about your mother’s family?”
Esther stopped drying to look at him in surprise. “Mama’s family?”
“Yes. Do your mother’s relatives live here in Brooklyn?”
Of course Mama must have relatives. Everybody had a family, didn’t they? But no one had ever talked about Mama’s family, and Esther couldn’t recall ever meeting them. Moisture from the wet plate soaked through her blouse as she held it against her chest, chilling her. “I don’t know anything about Mama’s family,” she murmured. But why didn’t she? Why was it such a mystery?
“If you are tired of doing dishes you may stop anytime,” Mr. Mendel said. “There is no need to do all of them tonight.”
His words jarred Esther from her thoughts, and she resumed her task. “No, I don’t mind. I like helping you.”
“I have thought of hiring a housekeeper, but my broken arm will be healed in a few more weeks and I will be able to do things for myself again.”
“You can hire me until then. I know how to do all kinds of things around the house besides dishes. I can dust and sweep, clean sinks. And I could use the money to buy war bond stamps and take Peter to the movies once in a while. And to pay for my piano lessons.” The idea of paying for her own lessons had just occurred to Esther, but she thought it was a good one. “Penny Goodrich is paying for my lessons right now, but I don’t want her to. She’s not my mother.” Her words came out more harshly than she intended.
Mr. Mendel frowned. “I see,” he said, nodding slowly. “Then perhaps this arrangement will work well for both of us.”
CHAPTER 14
PENNY’S STOMACH CHURNED as she stood at the stove, scrambling eggs for breakfast. She divided them between two plates instead of three when they were cooked, feeling much too queasy to eat. Today she would start training to be a bus driver. She couldn’t recall ever being so nervous.
“I might be a little late coming home from work today,” she told Esther and Peter when they joined her in the kitchen. “I start training for a new job today.” She waited, wondering if they would show an interest and maybe ask her about it. Neither of them did.
“Okay . . . well, your lunches are all packed. I guess I’ll see you tonight.” Penny grabbed her own lunch pail and hurried downstairs to the bus stop, not wanting to be late on the first day. She didn’t know if she would be able to eat a bite of food at noontime, either.
She waited on the corner, and when the bus arrived, she was relieved to see her marine friend, Roy Fuller, sitting in his usual place in the front. He greeted her with a grin. “Here you go, Penny. I saved you a seat. But you’ll be on your own for the next few days. I’m going home tomorrow on a three-day leave.”
“That’s wonderful, Roy. I’ll bet you can hardly wait.”
“I’m counting the hours until I can kiss my girlfriend.”
“How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”
“Three and a half months. How about you and your soldier boy?”
“Eddie’s been gone nearly a month already, but he should be coming home on leave pretty soon.” The reminder sent Penny’s stomach rolling like a barrel down a steep hill. “It’ll be the first time I’ve seen him since he left for basic training.”
“You going to do something special for the occasion? Maybe buy a new dress to wear?”
“A new dress? You mean for me?”
Roy laughed out loud. “Well, I hope your boyfriend doesn’t wear dresses.” Penny smiled for the first time all morning.
“I can’t remember the last time I bought a new dress,” she said. “Long before the war started, that’s for sure.”
“The first time I came home on leave, Sally got all dolled up for me. New dress, new hairstyle. Boy, she looked pretty. I asked her to marry me right then and there.”
Penny caught her breath. “You really asked her to marry you?”
“You bet! It showed me how much she cared, going to all that trouble for me and everything. You have to remember that I’d been around a bunch of men for weeks and weeks, so Sally was a sight for sore eyes. I’ll bet your boyfriend will be happy to see a pretty gal like you, too, after living in an army barracks all this time.”
For a moment Penny couldn’t speak. No one had ever told her she was pretty – least of all a man. When she finally found her voice again she asked, “So when are you and Sally getting married?”
“We’re not engaged yet. She had to turn me down. Her father said she was too young. I wanted to elope, but I only had a three-day pass and Sally deserves a nice, big wedding.”
“I’ll bet she’s sorry she said no, now that you’re so far away.”
“I’m not sure what she thinks. I’m trying to woo her but it’s hard to say all the things I want to say in a letter. I never was very good at writing, and I’ve never been good with girls, either. I was too shy around them in high school. I guess that’s why I’m twenty-six years old and still not married. I never had any sisters, so I don’t know how girls think or what they like men to say to them.”
“You should watch some romantic movies like Gone With the Wind or Robin Hood. Errol Flynn and Clark Gable seem to know all the right things to say to a girl. You could get some ideas from them.”
“What does your beau say in his letters?”
Eddie’s letters were brief and not at all romantic: Were his army payroll checks arriving? Did she have enough money for food and to pay the bills? Were the kids doing all right in school? “He’s not very good at writing letters, either,” Penny finally said.
“Hey, I have an idea. Maybe you could write down a few things for me that you wish your beau would say to you and I could say them to Sally.”
“Shouldn’t your letters to her be in your own words?”
“I don’t think she’ll care as long as I sound romantic. Please, Penny? I sure would hate to lose her because my letters are too dull. She might decide that I’m dull, too.”
“You’re not dull at all, Roy. You always help me get my mind off . . . everything. And you make me smile.” Mother would have a conniption fit if she knew that Penny was being this friendly with a stranger. But Roy didn’t seem like a stranger anymore. He seemed like a friend. And she wanted to help him.
“Okay, let me think of something romantic you could
say . . .” She pictured Eddie in her mind and thought of the much-too-brief moments she used to spend with him when he came to the duplex to visit his mother. She thought of how she longed to be held in his arms, to rest her head against his shoulder and feel his arms around her, to feel his embrace, his lips touching hers. She held back a sigh. “You could say something like, ‘I wish I could capture time in a bottle when we’re together and throw it into the deepest ocean. Then I would have forever to spend with you. I wouldn’t need air to breathe or food to eat. Holding you in my arms would be all the food I would need. Having your love would be the only air I would need to breathe.’ ”
“Wow!” Roy murmured when she finished. “That’s great! Could I use that with Sally?”
“Sure.” She gave a little laugh. “It’s just a bunch of words.”
“Do you have a pencil I could borrow?” He pulled an envelope from his breast pocket. It looked like a letter from Sally. Penny gave him a pencil from her purse and watched Roy chew his lip in concentration as he scribbled her words on the back of the envelope. “If you think of anything else, will you write it down for me?” he asked when he finished.
“Sure. And thanks for your advice, Roy. Maybe I will buy a new dress to wear for Eddie.”
“And don’t forget, men like to see their sweethearts wearing a pretty new hairstyle, too. And perfume – wear lots of nice perfume.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Maybe Eddie would notice her if she took Roy’s advice. And maybe he wouldn’t notice that his kids hated her. “Now tell me what else you and Sally have planned for your trip home,” she said.
Penny listened intently as Roy described the supper club where he wanted to take Sally and how they would dance until morning, then watch the sun come up at Lake Scranton. Penny imagined an evening like that with Eddie and sighed. “See, Roy? You’re very romantic. And if I don’t see you again before you go home, I wish you luck with Sally.”
“Thanks. And good luck with Eddie. I hope you knock him dead when he comes home on leave.”
“Me too. Bye.” The bus rolled into the station where Penny worked, and as she stood to get off, she remembered that she was starting drivers’ training today. Roy had distracted her for a short time, but now her insides squirmed once again. She turned back to him and said, “Hey, Roy, say a little prayer for me, okay? I’m trying out for a new job today.” He folded his hands and closed his eyes for a second as if in prayer, then looked up at her again with a wide grin. He pointed his finger toward heaven.
Penny’s knees felt weak as she walked into the depot. Her boss, Mr. Whitney, directed her to a vacant office next to his that had been converted into a classroom. She was relieved to see that the seven other people who would be learning to drive along with her were all women. Penny took a seat beside a young dark-haired woman about her age.
“Hi. Are you as nervous as I am?” Penny whispered to her.
The girl nodded. “I don’t know whether to run from the building or throw up.”
“Me either. I think I might do both.” Penny managed a smile and the girl smiled in return. “My name’s Penny Goodrich. And I can’t even drive a car, let alone a bus.”
“I’m glad I’m not the only one. I’m Sheila Napolitano. Nice to meet you.”
Penny’s nerves calmed considerably when the teacher entered and told them that for the first few days, all their instruction would take place in this room. “You will have to pass a written test and qualify for a learner’s permit before we put you behind the wheel of a bus. Then you’ll have to pass another written test, an eye test, and a road test before you qualify for a license.”
That seemed like a lot of hurdles to jump over. Penny listened intently all morning, taking notes in the margins of the instruction manual they had given her. “There’s so much to learn!” she told Sheila as they ate lunch together. “I’ll have to study at night with the kids when they do their homework.”
“You’re married?” Sheila asked.
“No, I’m taking care of two children for a friend of mine while he’s away in the army. Well, actually . . . I hope he’s going to be more than a friend someday. I hope he marries me after the war. His first wife died, and he needed somebody to take care of his two children and I said I would do it and so . . . Oh, boy. I’m doing it again. I always babble on and on whenever I’m nervous, and believe me, learning to drive a bus makes me very nervous. How about you, Sheila. Are you married?”
“Yeah.” She held out her left hand to show a wedding band and tiny diamond ring. “Tony and I got married one year ago last August, but we’ve only been together for a few weeks since. We met at Coney Island in July, got married in August, and he got shipped off to California two months later.”
“Gosh, you must be lonely without him.”
“Yeah. I was hoping I would get pregnant right away so I’d have Tony’s baby to keep me company while he’s gone, but it didn’t happen. That’s why I applied for this job.”
Penny could feel herself blushing at the mention of getting pregnant. The few conversations she could remember having about “the birds and the bees” had frightened her half to death. Her parents had never liked to talk about such things.
Her parents.
Penny’s stomach made a sickening flip inside her. Ever since the clerk in the records’ office had told Penny the news, she hadn’t stopped thinking about the fact that she was adopted. Adopted. Her parents weren’t really her parents. Unless of course someone in the records’ office had made a mistake, which was what Penny still wanted to believe. It just didn’t make sense. Why hadn’t they ever told her? Penny hadn’t been home to see her parents since discovering the truth a few days ago, but she probably wouldn’t have the nerve to ask them about it even when she did go home on Sunday. She really didn’t want to know the truth.
“I just love babies,” Sheila continued. “I want to have a houseful of them someday, don’t you?”
“Yes . . . I mean, who wouldn’t love to have a little baby?” According to her birth certificate she had been adopted on the same day she’d been born. Was it possible that her real mother hadn’t wanted her and had given her to strangers to raise? Penny didn’t want to think about it anymore.
She watched as Sheila pulled out a compact and used the mirror to apply bright red lipstick after she finished eating. “It’s called Victory Red,” Sheila said when she saw Penny watching her. “Don’t ask me why. I mean, how can a lipstick help win the war?” She snapped her compact shut again. Sheila was pretty and stylish with wavy black hair, just the right amount of makeup on her dark brown eyes, and a flowered dress that showed off her tiny waist.
Penny was desperate to get her mind off her parents. Maybe she wouldn’t go home at all this weekend. “Can I ask you something, Sheila?”
“Sure.”
“Do you know of a good place where I could get my hair done? I really like the way yours looks, and I want to get dolled up a little bit for when my boyfriend comes home on leave. Can you recommend a place?”
“Sure, the beauty parlor where I go isn’t too far from here. I can give you the address. They stay open later on Fridays and Saturdays since so many women are working. You could probably make an appointment for this Saturday.” She reached out to feel Penny’s ponytail. “Your hair is nice and thick, not all kinky like mine. I’ll bet you would look pretty if you got it cut in a bob instead of wearing it pulled back like that.”
Penny feared she might cry. Sheila was the second person today who had told her she was pretty. Did she dare to believe it? She felt a shiver of excitement at the thought that Eddie might think so, too. “And where’s a good place to go shopping? I want to buy something new to wear that isn’t too expensive. Do you know of a store where they could give a girl like me some good advice?”
“I’d be glad to go with you. I love to shop.”
“Really? You would help me?”
“Sure. I don’t have much to do on Saturdays now that Tony is away. It w
ould be fun. And you look like you could use some modern clothes. Yours are a little old-fashioned – no offense.”
“That’s okay. No one ever helped me shop before, except my mother. And she’s seventy years old.”
“Let’s have a look at you.” Sheila gestured for Penny to stand up and then gave her a once-over, from her hair to her feet. “We’ll have to do something about your shoes, too.”
“My shoes? What about them?”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-four.”
“No offense, but you’re too young to wear shoes like that all the time.”
“My mother says they’re sensible shoes. She would have a conniption fit if she ever saw me wearing high-heeled pumps. She says they’re a waste of money and calls them ‘floozy shoes.’ ”
“Well, your shoes are sensible, I suppose, if you’re seventy years old. We need to buy you some new shoes, too. You can afford them once we get this new job, huh?”
“We’ll be rich!”
By the end of the day, Penny’s head felt stuffed full of all the new information she had to learn. The teacher was about to dismiss the class when Mr. Whitney arrived and issued rumpled, dark gray uniforms to everyone.
“I’m sorry, but for now all we have are men’s uniforms,” he said. “And they are secondhand uniforms, at that. You ladies will have to do a little sewing to make them fit, but I’m sure you can handle it.”
Men’s uniforms? That meant Penny would have to wear pants, and she had never worn them in her life. Again, Mother would have a conniption fit.
It was much later than usual by the time Penny left the bus station to head home. She felt disappointed when her bus arrived and Roy wasn’t on it. She would have liked to share her day with him. Rush hour was in full swing by now and the buses were all very crowded. They moved like slugs in the thickening traffic. Penny checked her watch repeatedly, worried about the children. She had never left them alone for this long after school.
She finally reached her stop nearly an hour late and raced home to the apartment. It seemed very quiet inside. No one was listening to the radio or practicing the piano or sitting at the dining room table doing homework.