“Mort?” Rose turned on her side to face him and touched his arm. “Are you asleep?”
“No, I’m awake.”
“Thank you for letting us go to the restaurant tomorrow. I know you’re not a big fan of Sol, but the girls are so excited. I think we’ll all have a wonderful time.”
“Well, at least it won’t cost us anything,” he conceded.
Rose took his hand in the darkness and brought it to her face, where his fingers felt the yielding smoothness of her cheek. Next, she brought the hand to her mouth and kissed it, not just once, but twice, so that a sudden longing overcame him. By the time he kissed her lips and she wrapped her arms around him, he was awash in satisfaction, his nighttime tally long forgotten.
Chapter 9
HELEN
Helen was sitting on the edge of her bed, looking at the two dresses she had set out. One was the blue dress she had worn to Harry’s bar mitzvah, and the other was a black three-quarter-sleeve dress she had last worn when she was pregnant with the twins. She loved the first dress, with its soft chiffon skirt and flowing sleeves. She picked it up off the bed, walked over to the full-length mirror that was tucked in the corner of the bedroom and held it up in front of her. Just thinking about squeezing into it made her tired. She would never be able to get it over her hips, let alone zip it up.
She put the blue dress back in the tiny closet and turned to the black one. Helen had given away her other maternity dresses years ago, but she had saved this one because it had been her favorite at the time. “Some favorite,” she murmured to herself. It was a dull, tentlike affair in simple black silk, but at least she’d be able to breathe in it. “Looks like it’s you and me tonight,” she said to the dress. She had run out of lipstick again and decided to walk over to the drugstore before she started to get the boys ready. She was sure she would have to send Abe to the park to round them up. They would never remember to come home in time to clean up.
“Abe!” She called into the living room, where Abe was lying half asleep on the couch, his face covered by the sports section of the newspaper.
“Humm?” He pretended to be awake.
“I’m running down to the corner for some lipstick. I’ll be back in half an hour, and then you’re going to have to get the boys from the park.”
“Mmmm,” he mumbled. The paper dropped to the floor and he snored. She would have to wake him later.
When Helen got to the bottom of the steps, she knocked on Rose’s door. She wanted to see whether Rose needed anything from the drugstore. Plus, she could use some company. Abe had been asleep for most of the afternoon, and the boys had been at the park all day. She was tired of talking to herself.
Mimi opened the door with her hair pinned up in curlers. She was already wearing her dress for the restaurant, a pink flowered print with smocking on the front.
“Mimi! Don’t you look beautiful!”
Mimi nodded as if the observation were a question. “I’ve been ready since this morning. Mommy made me take off my dress to eat lunch, but I put it back on after. I had to eat lunch in my bathrobe. See my ribbon?” She twirled around so Helen could see the back of her dress, tied in a perfect symmetrical bow.
“Very nice.” Helen took a seat on one of the kitchen chairs.
“I can’t sit down because I don’t want to ruin it. It took three tries to get it just right.” She pointed to the curlers in her hair “I’m keeping these in my hair until the very last minute so my curls will be nice and bouncy.”
“I’m sure they’ll be perfect.”
Mimi went to give her aunt a hug but stopped when she remembered her dress. Helen understood. “I’ll be careful not to wrinkle you.” She breathed in Mimi’s little-girl fragrance, all lilacs and peppermint instead of the dirt and sweat her boys always smelled of. The boys hardly ever let her hug them now, and if they did it was only if they were bleeding. Forget about trying to keep them clean. Helen tried to imagine what would happen if she had asked Sam, Joe or George to put on a suit and tie that morning. By now, the jackets would be lost, the shirts would be ripped and the ties would be hanging from a tree branch somewhere.
The boys tired her out more than usual these days. The younger three traveled as a pack, in constant and careless motion. They rarely spoke to her, and if they did, it was all at once and usually because they wanted to be fed. Harry barely looked at her. Most days she felt less like a mother and more like a lonely zookeeper working overtime.
She hugged Mimi a minute too long, letting her go only when Dinah teetered into the room in Rose’s heels. The five-year-old held out her wrists for inspection. “Smell!” she ordered.
“Did you use the big yellow perfume bottle or the small clear one?” Mimi asked.
“The little one.”
“What! She never lets me use that one! Mommy!” Mimi was already running out of the kitchen to find Rose. In the meantime, Helen rubbed noses with Dinah. “Are you excited for dinner tonight?” Dinah nodded, then rested her head against Helen’s shoulder. She let out a yawn. “If I’m good, I get to have dessert,” she whispered.
Helen leaned back against her chair, repositioning Dinah on her lap so they were both comfortable.
A few minutes later, Rose came into the room apologizing. “Mimi just told me you were here—she was so worked up about my perfume that she didn’t even mention you came in.” Helen scooted Dinah off of her lap and stood up.
“I’m out of lipstick again.” Helen frowned. “Everything is swelling. Even my lips! Anyway, I’m running to the drugstore. Need anything?”
“Would you mind taking Judith with you?” Rose lowered her voice. “I think she could use a little air.” Helen gave Rose a puzzled look, but it wasn’t the right time to say more. “Sure. I’d love some company.”
“Judith! Come here!” Rose called.
Judith answered from her bedroom, “I’m reading!”
“I need you to get me some aspirin!”
A few minutes later Judith appeared, cheeks red and eyes swollen. She had been crying.
“Hi, honey,” Helen said. “Ready to walk me to the drugstore?”
Judith managed a small smile. “Sure, Aunt Helen.”
“Let’s go then.” The two of them walked out of the house into the crisp September air. Judith was silent, busily picking at a stray thread on her sleeve. She was a full year younger than Harry, but to Helen she was more mature by far.
Helen had a soft spot for Judith, maybe because she was the daughter who always seemed to bear the brunt of Mort’s disapproval. Mimi and Dinah were more spirited girls, not as easily flattened by Mort’s moods.
When Judith was ten, she had won the poetry award at her elementary school’s end-of-year picnic. Helen and Rose had set up their blankets next to each other on the field. Helen still remembered what they brought for lunch that day: her cold fried chicken, Rose’s potato salad, homemade cookies and thermoses of iced tea. Helen had felt sorry for the family next to them with their limp tuna sandwiches. After eating, the boys ran off to play kickball, and Dinah followed Mimi to a patch of blacktop where she was playing jacks with some girls from her class. Only Judith remained on the blanket with them, reading one of her books. Rose looked to Helen for reassurance. She’s fine, Helen had mouthed, but she could tell Rose was worried.
After all the families had finished eating, the principal walked to the front of the school, where a makeshift podium was set up. The time had come for the awarding of prizes.
The science prize had gone to two fifth-graders for their experiment on tomato plants. The physical education prize went to Benjamin Wareham, for the third year in a row. By the time they got around to the poetry prize, most people had stopped paying attention. When Judith’s name was announced, Helen was already packing up their leftovers.
Judith hadn’t known about the award beforehand, so when her English teacher asked her to recite the poem she wrote, Judith looked nervous. After a few moments, however, she cleared her throat
and began:
A friend is like a shining star
That sparkles in the sky.
A friend that’s good and kind is like
A twinkle in your eye.
But when a friend betrays your trust
The shining light goes dark,
And sadness dims what once was bright
Like water on a spark.
I told a friend my secret.
My heart was open wide,
Just like a fragile seashell
That shows the pearl inside.
My friend picked up the seashell
She took the pearl in hand.
And once she had possessed it,
She strung it on a strand.
She wore the pearl around her neck
And everyone could see.
She did not keep my secret.
She was no friend to me.
The crowd clapped politely, but they were clearly surprised by the severity of the poem. People were expecting something simpler from a ten-year-old girl—something about rainbows or butterflies. Not Helen. She was impressed.
“I don’t get it,” said Harry, and Helen had glared at him.
When Judith returned to the blanket with her certificate, the first one she showed it to was Mort. “Very nice,” he said blandly.
“Mrs. Curtis said I have a real way with words, and that my imagery is extremely vivid. She said I’m the best writer in the class.”
“Who’s the best at math?” Mort asked. Rose sucked in her breath, and Judith’s smile shriveled. She dropped her certificate on the grass and ran. Rose went after her. The rest of them gathered their things and walked home in silence.
More than two years had gone by since the picnic, but Helen worried that Mort and Judith would always have a strained relationship.
“So, are you excited to go to the restaurant tonight?” Helen asked. She was trying to walk carefully on the uneven sidewalk. The air smelled like onions and potatoes from the knish cart on the corner.
Judith would have preferred to stay at home, but she knew it was Helen’s brother who had invited them. “It should be fun,” she said. “Mimi and Dinah can’t stop talking about it. Especially Mimi.”
“I can tell. Did she wear that dress to bed last night?”
Judith played along with the joke. “Nah, that would have wrinkled it.” They walked a little longer.
When they got to the drugstore, the bell on the door announced their arrival. “Hi, Mrs. Feldman,” Helen called to the woman behind the counter. Helen pulled Judith toward the cosmetics section and grabbed a sample from the counter display. “How’s this one?” she asked.
“Too orange.”
“This one?”
Judith’s eyes widened, and she started to laugh. “It’s horrible!” She looked over the choices and handed a different tube to her aunt. “Try this.”
Helen gave the tube a twist, put some on her lips and looked in the tiny hand mirror. “Perfect! You can pick my lipstick anytime.” She winked at Judith. “Should we pick one for you?” Judith shook her head. “I’d rather have a candy bar.”
“Two Hershey bars, one bottle of aspirin and this lipstick, please, Mrs. Feldman,” Judith said, piling their items by the cash register.
They walked home together, nibbling on their chocolate bars.
Helen had to ask, “Do you want to tell me why you were crying?”
“It was nothing. Just something about my book. I’m reading a biography of Amelia Earhart.”
“Did the ending upset you?”
“I already knew what happened to her. It’s just … my father didn’t like it.”
“A biography of Amelia Earhart? What didn’t he like?”
Judith sniffed. She was trying not to cry, and her voice was shaking. “He said something about how she had her head in the clouds and look where that got her and how I’d better get my head out of the clouds too.”
“Oh honey.” Helen squeezed Judith’s hand.
“He’s just so mean sometimes.” Judith wiped the tears from her cheeks on her sleeve.
“It’s all right. Shhh.” Helen patted her back. “We’re going to have a nice time tonight—you’ll sit next to me.” When they got back to the house Helen offered some advice. “When you get inside, take a few tea bags from the kitchen and run them under the faucet. Lie down on your bed and put them on your eyes. They’ll take the puffiness away.”
“Thanks, Aunt Helen.”
“Thank you for keeping me company and helping me with the lipstick. You made my day.”
“Really?” Judith was surprised.
“Really. It gets pretty lonely upstairs sometimes.”
“But whenever I hear you and the boys upstairs, it sounds like you’re having so much fun.”
“Well, it isn’t always a party, believe me. I don’t have anybody to talk to up there most of the time. The boys aren’t much for talking these days.”
Judith nodded as if she understood. She looked down at her candy wrapper.
“You can always talk to me. I mean, if you want.”
Helen was touched. “Thanks, sweetheart. I’m going to take you up on that.”
By the time she made it up the stairs to her own front door, Helen knew several things she hadn’t known half an hour earlier. On the way down the steps, she hadn’t realized how alone she had felt or how often that feeling of isolation crept into her days. She hadn’t recognized that the tasks that drove her routine had taken over and that the best parts of being a mother—the connection, the companionship—had been missing. As she stood before her door, she knew that she wanted a girl not only because of the clothes she could dress her in or the ribbons she could put in her hair. She wanted someone to laugh with, someone who could cry to her, someone she could comfort and understand. She yearned for a daughter for reasons she had not previously been able to explain. And now that she had the words to express her longing, she knew it would only be more difficult to ignore.
Chapter 10
HELEN
As they walked into the restaurant, Helen was still wondering how she had managed to get the boys ready on time. It was all a blur. Even now they were bickering and shoving each other on the sidewalk. It was only when they pushed through the heavy wooden door and stepped onto the plush green carpet of the restaurant foyer that they were silenced. The light was soothingly dim, and candles left gentle shadows on the mahogany wall panels. A large crystal chandelier hung directly overhead. Harry whistled softly. “Nice,” he said. “Think I could bring Susan here?”
“Absolutely not,” said Helen.
Sol was waiting for them in the foyer, looking sharp as always. Dark silk suit, hair combed back and nails buffed to a shine that left Helen mildly annoyed. He takes better care of himself than I do myself, she thought. Then again, she wasn’t the type of woman who kept up any real beauty routine.
Sol’s wife, on the other hand, was exactly that type. Despite a few extra pounds, Arlene looked as eye-catching as ever, in a copper sheath dress that matched her freshly colored hair. She insisted on kissing all of the boys, leaving traces of lipstick on each of their cheeks that closely resembled the shade Judith had warned Helen against in the drugstore.
Rose and Mort entered the restaurant a few minutes later. Mimi’s curls were intact, and Judith’s eyes had lost their puffiness. Dinah looked tired and couldn’t stop staring at the chandelier. Soon all of the girls had Arlene’s lipstick on their cheeks as well.
When the maître d’ appeared, Sol walked forward and took the man’s outstretched hand in both of his own. “We’re here for Gino. Just tell him Sol is here with his family.” Gino, a short, heavy man in a shiny tuxedo, appeared almost instantly. “Welcome!” he panted, slightly out of breath. Gino gripped Sol in a tight embrace. “And this,” he said, turning to Arlene, “must be your lovely wife.”
Sol beamed. “This is my Arlene.” She gave Gino a smile and held out her hand enthusiastically. Arlene loved meeting new p
eople, even when she had no idea what to say to them.
“Wonderful! But where is little Johnny?” asked Gino. “I told you to bring your whole family!”
“Johnny’s still too young for all this. But I brought some other special people.” He gestured, and Abe stepped forward to shake Gino’s hand. “Beautiful place you have here,” he said. Gino smiled and his eyes took a quick count of their party. He blinked for a second longer than normal. His cheeks grew red. “You have a large family.”
“Well, Gino,” said Sol, “you did say to bring the whole family. I hope it won’t be a problem.”
Gino cleared his throat and adjusted his bow tie. “Of course not! A big family is a blessing! Welcome, all of you!” He took the maître d’ aside, whispered in his ear and practically pushed him through the double glass doors into the dining room.
“My friends, the waiters are setting up a special table for you. The best table in the house!” He led them to a long table set up at the very center of the dining room. The eyes of all the other diners were on them as they crossed the floor. Helen felt like a celebrity. Only Sol can do this, she thought. He just waltzes in and takes over.
When Helen and Sol were young, their grandmother used to come over every Friday after school to watch them. It was the day their mother got her hair done and ran her errands. In the summer when they had no school, their grandmother came on Friday mornings, right after breakfast. On her way, she stopped at Gus’s Deli to pick up bologna, water rolls and a small chocolate cake. Helen hated bologna, and every Friday she hid as many slices as she could in her napkin.
The Two-Family House: A Novel Page 4