The Two-Family House: A Novel

by Lynda Cohen Loigman

  After three or four weeks, however, Abe put his foot down. “It’s enough already!” he said. “Rose will be fine—it’s her baby. She has to learn how to take care of him herself!” Helen was furious. For three days she refused to speak to Abe. And for three nights in a row she slept downstairs with Natalie and Teddy.

  On the fourth day, George didn’t feel well after dinner. When Helen tucked him in that night, he burst into tears. Helen sat on the edge of the bed with him. “Honey, what’s wrong? Do you have a stomachache?”

  George nodded. Tears were running down his face.

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” she said. “I’m going to get a bowl from the kitchen for you and put it by the side of your bed in case you need to throw up.” She was about to get up but George grabbed her hand and started to cry harder.

  “No! Mommy, don’t go! Don’t leave me!”

  “George!” Helen was surprised. “I’m just going into the kitchen. I’m going to get a bowl for you and then I’ll come right back.”

  “No, you won’t!” he sobbed. “You won’t come back! You’ll take Natalie and go downstairs and leave me up here all alone!”

  “George,” Helen tried to calm him down, “I would never leave you all alone. Sometimes I try to help Aunt Rose with Teddy, but Daddy is always here if I’m gone.”

  “No! I want you to take care of me! I’m gonna wake up at night and throw up and you won’t be here! You’re going to leave us and we won’t have any mommy at all!”

  “George, I’m not going to leave you.”

  “It’s not fair! Teddy already has a mommy. Now he has two and we have none.”

  “George!”

  “You love him more than us!”

  “Oh George, I’m so sorry.” Helen had tears in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around him. George choked back his sobs. Then he threw up all over his bedspread.

  After that, Helen stopped sleeping downstairs. She missed spending time with Teddy and she felt bad leaving Rose in the lurch. But she had to give it up.

  Rose had done a little bit better after that, but during the summer she retreated again. With school out, she relied heavily on Judith and the other girls to watch Teddy and keep him occupied. She cooked dinner when Mort came home, but most afternoons the girls ended up at Helen’s house for lunch. Helen started cooking extra food and buying double her usual order of cold cuts on Mondays. She didn’t mind. But now that summer was over and school had started, Helen was hoping Rose would get back to normal.

  That was why she was knocking on Rose’s door now—she wanted to start the school year off on a good note for all of them. They could take a nice walk together and keep each other company. But when Helen knocked, there was no answer. She tried again, but still no response. “Rose? Are you home?” Helen heard crying. The knob to Rose’s front door turned easily in her hand so she let herself in. Teddy wasn’t just crying—he was screaming at the top of his lungs.

  Helen found him in his crib, sitting up and sobbing. His round little face was red, covered in snot and tears from crying for so long. The room smelled of urine; he had soaked through his pajamas. She put Natalie down on the rug and picked Teddy up to comfort him. “Shhh, sweetheart, shhh,” she whispered. Teddy rubbed his faced into her shoulder. His whole body was shaking but the sobs were getting softer. “Shhh.” He was wet and shivering, and she wondered how long he had been crying like that. Why hadn’t Rose heard him?”

  “Rose?” she called again.

  Still there was no answer. “Mommy must be sleeping, Teddy,” Helen said to him. “Did you keep her up last night?” she cooed. He was finally calming down. “Let’s change you, okay? In fact, let’s give you a nice warm bath.”

  “BA!” said Natalie, looking up at her mother.

  “You can have a bath too, with Teddy! Won’t that be fun?”

  Helen stripped Teddy out of his wet clothes and put a fresh diaper on him. Then she put him down on the rug next to Natalie, who was busy chewing on a wooden block. She changed the crib sheets and put both of the kids in the crib for safekeeping so she could go check on Rose. That was some nap she was taking! Helen hoped she wasn’t sick.

  She knocked on Rose’s bedroom door, but there was no response. When she opened it, she saw that the bed hadn’t been made. Rose was sitting in the chair by the window, staring out at the street. She was still in her nightgown.

  “Rose?” Helen spoke again, louder this time. “Are you all right?” Rose didn’t move. It was as if she couldn’t hear. Helen was afraid of startling her when she touched her arm, but she needn’t have worried. Rose looked at Helen and reached for her ears, pulling something out of them. Her eyes were sleepy.

  “What’s that?” Helen pointed to Rose’s hands.

  “Earplugs.”

  “Where on earth did you get earplugs?”

  “Hmm? Oh … the company picnic.” At first Helen thought Rose was hallucinating, but then she realized Rose must have gotten them from one of the employees. Some of them used earplugs to block out the noise from the box-making machinery.

  “How long have you been wearing them?”

  “I told you, I got them last month at the picnic.”

  “No, I mean, how long have you been wearing them today?”

  “Oh. Not too long.” Rose turned her eyes toward the window again.

  “When Natalie and I got here, Teddy was crying so loud we could hear him in the hallway.”

  “He’s always that way. If I didn’t wear earplugs, I’d never get anything done during the day.” What was she trying to get done in her bedroom staring out the window?

  “He was wet, soaked through his clothes. Did you feed him yet?”

  “Judith always gives him breakfast. She loves taking care of him.”

  “I know she does. But it’s the first day of school, remember? Judith left early. Maybe Teddy is hungry.”

  “Then I’ll feed him, all right?” Rose snapped. “Will that make you happy?”

  Helen tried to be reassuring. “All babies cry, you know.”

  “Ha! Not like him. He’s a monster.”

  Helen couldn’t bear to hear Rose say that about Teddy. “Rose, he’s just a baby.”

  “Well, I’m too old to take care of another baby. I can’t do it!”

  “If I can do it, you can too.”

  “I’m telling you I can’t. I’m not like you. How can you pretend this is all so easy? I can’t do this!” Rose’s voice was breaking.

  “Listen to me.” Helen took one of Rose’s hands in both of her own. She was pleading with her. “You have to. I’m trying to help you, but you have to do better than this. Teddy needs you.”

  Rose shook her head and Helen let go of her hand. “I’m going to give the kids a bath,” Helen said. “Then we’re all going to the park. All of us.” She was numb and sick with worry. Don’t be angry, she kept telling herself. Don’t be angry. She’s going through a difficult patch. Everything will work out.

  Helen went back to the babies, who were busy chewing on blocks and babbling at each other. When she put them both in the tub together, it reminded her of when she used to bathe the twins. Getting them out was harder than getting them in, but she managed it all right. She dressed Natalie back in her romper and found fresh clothes for Teddy. Then she brought them into the kitchen to wait for Rose.

  Half an hour later, after Teddy was fed, Rose appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, dressed and ready for their outing. Teddy started kicking his feet and babbling when he saw her.

  “He’s excited to see you,” Helen said. She took Teddy out of his high chair and handed him to Rose, who held out her arms reluctantly. “Go to Mama,” Helen cooed, but Rose’s hands were stiff and slow in accepting him. It took several moments before Helen could let go, and it was only when she felt Rose’s grip on him tighten that she was sure he was secure. Helen exhaled slowly, picked Natalie up off the floor and followed Rose and Teddy out the door.

  Chapter 20

 
; ROSE

  (November 1948)

  The first few months of school went by quickly, and Rose felt better. She got rid of the earplugs and stopped taking naps during the day. Helen checked in on her every morning. Rose knew her sister-in-law only wanted to help, but she was becoming increasingly annoyed with Helen’s little visits.

  Living together in the two-family house had always had its benefits. When Rose first moved in, she had been grateful every day for Helen’s companionship. Helen taught her how to cook, how to sew curtains, how to bleed the radiator when it started getting noisy. She told Rose where to buy fish and which grocer had the best produce. The two of them had been inseparable back then, more like sisters than some real sisters Rose knew. When the children came along, the cousins had each other for playmates. There was always an adult around if any child was sick or wanted help with schoolwork. And if either Rose or Helen needed something for a recipe, chances were that one of them had the ingredient the other was missing.

  But there were downsides too. Rose had been humiliated the day Helen found her in the bedroom on the first day of school. Part of Rose was grateful that Helen had been there. But part of her resented the lack of privacy and boundaries that had developed between them. I should have known this would happen, Rose thought. She began to wonder if they would always live like this, together in the two-family house, never more than a few feet from each other.

  Now, the clock struck 10:00 a.m. and there it was, the inevitable knock at the door.

  “Rose? Are you home?” Rose had been careful about locking the door in the morning after the girls left. But ever since the first day of school, Helen started keeping the extra key to Rose’s house on the key chain she left in her pocketbook. “It’s easier,” she told Rose. “This way if I need to borrow something from the kitchen and you aren’t home to answer, I’ll be able to get whatever I need without bothering you. You still have our key, don’t you? Or do you need me to make you another one?”

  “No,” Rose said. “I have it in a drawer somewhere.”

  Rose preferred to open the door herself, so she rushed over to get to it in time.

  When she opened it she found Helen and Natalie, both bundled up in hats and heavy coats. “It’s freezing out today,” Helen said. “I think it’s too cold to go to the park. What do you think?”

  Rose shrugged. “We haven’t been out yet. But if you think it’s too cold…” She was hoping Helen would give up their daily walk and leave her and Teddy to themselves for the day.

  “Well, maybe we’ll come in for a few minutes. The kids can play a little.”

  “Sure.” Rose knew better than to argue. She stepped aside to let Helen and Natalie into the kitchen. Teddy was sitting on the floor, playing with a set of wooden farm animals he had inherited from Dinah. His favorite was the sheep.

  Rose filled a kettle with water from the tap and put it on the stove for tea. As soon as Natalie was out of her coat and down on the floor, she crawled over to Teddy and grabbed the sheep from his tiny fist. Then she yelled, “Baa!” in Teddy’s face. When Teddy started to cry, Helen pulled the toy away from Natalie and put it back in Teddy’s hand. After that, both of them were crying.

  Helen didn’t know who to comfort first. She took Teddy up on her knee and picked one of the other animals for Natalie. “Here, sweetheart. Here’s a cow for you.”

  “Mooo!” Natalie called out.

  “She’s smart,” Rose said. “Like Judith.”

  Helen was miffed. “Sam spoke early too.”

  “I know,” said Rose, “but Natalie takes after Judith in a lot of ways.”

  “She has the same chin as Harry,” Helen pointed out.

  “True.” Rose gave in. “They both have Grandpa Harold’s chin.” Harold was Mort and Abe’s father. Rose knew the conversation was not going in a good direction. She was trying to think of something else to talk about.

  Helen must have been thinking the same thing. “What do you want to do for Thanksgiving this year?” she asked. “Do you want me to have it upstairs? It’s no problem.”

  Rose suppressed a sigh. Where was it written that the two families had to celebrate every holiday with each other? Rosh Hashanah and break-fast had been in September, but it felt like they had just happened yesterday. Was it really necessary to have Thanksgiving together too?

  “We … may go to my aunt Faye’s place. She invited us.” It was only partly untrue. The last time Rose had spoken with Faye was over a month ago. She hadn’t invited them specifically for Thanksgiving, but she had told Rose to “come and visit anytime.”

  “Really? You’re going to schlep all the way to Manhattan on Thanksgiving? Why do you want to go all the way there?”

  “It’s not that far.”

  “I thought Mort didn’t like Faye’s husband.”

  “Mort had a nice conversation with Stuart last time.”

  “Suit yourself. Let me know if you change your mind.”

  “I will. I’ll talk to Mort about it tonight.”

  “All right. Faye can always come to us. It’s just the two of them. Maybe I’ll just call and invite her here. That way everyone can be together. Why don’t you give me her number?”

  “I’ll ask her.”

  “Are you sure? I’d feel rude if I didn’t invite her myself.”

  “I said I’d ask her!”

  “All right. You ask her.” Helen got up from her chair and handed Teddy to Rose. “I forgot how many errands we have to do today,” she said. “We need to go to the fish store and the pharmacy and—”

  “Don’t let us keep you.” Rose was visibly relieved. “We’ll see you later.” As soon as Helen and Natalie were out the door, Rose locked it quickly behind them. She took a small leather-bound book out of her kitchen drawer, found Faye’s number and began to dial it.

  Chapter 21

  JUDITH

  Judith was bored. She looked over at her sisters, who were sitting on the other side of the long mahogany table. Dinah’s eyes were half closed, like she was falling asleep, and Mimi kept sneaking glances at herself in the enormous gold-framed mirror on the wall. Judith took a spoonful of soup. It was going to be a long afternoon.

  Who served soup for Thanksgiving anyway? Sure, they had soup for other holidays, but that was different. This soup was pale green and tasted funny. Aunt Faye said it was cream of celery, but Judith was trying to pretend she hadn’t heard. She was afraid she wouldn’t be able to eat it if she thought about the ingredients, and she wanted to be polite.

  Judith preferred Thanksgiving dinner at Aunt Helen’s. There was no celery soup, and Aunt Helen always made pumpkin bread. Judith was pretty sure there would be no pumpkin bread here. She could see only hard, store-bought rolls in the polished silver bowl that sat in the center of the table.

  It had taken forever to get from Brooklyn to this fancy apartment building on Park Avenue. There was a stylish-looking doorman in the front of the building who asked them their names and called Aunt Faye on the lobby telephone to announce them. Then another man, also in uniform, rode up the seven floors with them in the elevator. Judith didn’t see how a person could make an actual job out of riding in the elevator. How much work did it take to push a button anyway?

  Aunt Faye and Uncle Stuart had no children or grandchildren. The floor in the foyer was polished marble (Dinah almost slipped when they first walked in), and there were expensive-looking crystal and china pieces on every surface. The coffee tables were made of glass, and even the couches managed to look fragile. They didn’t dare put Teddy down on the floor, for fear he might hurt himself on a sharp corner somewhere or (even worse) break something of Aunt Faye’s. Of course Aunt Faye didn’t have a high chair. So Teddy fidgeted on Rose’s lap.

  Aunt Faye was pale and slim, and her gray-blond hair was swept up with silver combs. When Judith’s mother asked if she wanted to hold Teddy, Faye didn’t hesitate. “No, thank you, dear,” she said, wholly unapologetic. “My chemise,” she said, motioning to
the white silk blouse she was wearing, “is not suitable for carrying babies. It’s terribly difficult to clean.”

  “So Mort,” said Faye’s husband, Stuart, “how’s business these days? Anything new in boxes?” Stuart said this like it was a joke, but Mort answered seriously.

  “Absolutely,” said Mort. “More and more food companies are using cardboard boxes, so we’re focusing production on this trend. Right now we’re working closely with a cereal manufacturer in Philadelphia.”

  Judith could see that Stuart wasn’t pleased with the answer. He was frowning, drumming his thick fingers on the dining room table. Stuart was the kind of man who liked to give advice. If no one needed his advice, he became cranky.

  “Better be careful,” Stuart cautioned. “This cereal fad might not last, you know. You can’t grow a business on trends, Mort.”

  “I agree,” said Mort. “I’m following the numbers on all of this very closely. Trends come and go, but numbers don’t lie.”

  “Hmmph,” said Stuart. He was sitting at the head of the table with Faye directly across from him at the other end. “Faye!” he almost shouted, “When are we serving the damn turkey already? The soup tastes like piss!”

  “Stuart! There are children present!” said Aunt Faye.

  “Well, they probably think it tastes like piss too.”

  The girls giggled. Rose gave Judith a look, stood up and handed Teddy to Mort. “Take Teddy for a few minutes. I’m going to help Faye in the kitchen.”

  “Don’t trouble yourself,” said Aunt Faye. “Lucy can manage.” Lucy was Aunt Faye’s housekeeper. She was dressed for company that evening in a pearl-gray uniform with a white lace collar. Judith had never seen a real maid before, and having Lucy there made her uneasy. Judith thought her mother must be feeling the same way. They weren’t used to sitting around the table and waiting for someone else to serve them.

  “Well,” Rose said, “why don’t I just do a quick check and make sure Lucy remembered to put the sweet potatoes I brought in the oven.” Dinah had cried her eyes out when they told her they weren’t having Thanksgiving at home. The only way they could calm her down was to promise they would still have the same sweet potato casserole with tiny marshmallows on top at Aunt Faye’s house. “Whatever you like, dear,” Faye agreed.