In the Unlikely Event

by Judy Blume

  “I live in California,” he said, tapping out an Old Gold cigarette. Same brand as his sister, she noticed. Or maybe Frekki had bought the carton and he’d filched a pack. “Los Altos.” She must have given him a blank look because he added, “San Francisco Bay Area. This is my first trip back since I enlisted.” He fumbled around in his wallet and pulled out a picture. “My wife and sons,” he said. “Your half brothers.”

  She didn’t want to look but she couldn’t help herself. The boys were little, maybe four and six. The wife was blond, pretty, not put-together-pretty like Corinne, but casual pretty. She was younger, with chubby cheeks, wearing Capri pants and a shirt. Posed like a movie star—leaning back against a tree with one foot on the ground and the other leg bent at the knee, her foot up against the tree, making it look as if the bottom half of that leg were missing. Miri passed the photo back without commenting.

  “Jeffrey and Josh,” Frekki said. “Those are your brothers’ names.”

  “What’s your wife’s name?” Miri asked Mike Monsky.

  “Adela.”

  “Adela. What kind of name is that?”

  “It’s an old family name.”

  “Is she Jewish?”

  “That’s a personal question, Miri,” Frekki said.

  “I thought we were getting personal.”

  “She’s half, but we’re raising the boys Jewish,” Mike Monsky said. “I work in my father-in-law’s business.”

  As if she cared enough to ask, What business?

  He told her anyway. She knew he would. “Shoe stores,” he said. “He’s got a chain of shoe stores.”

  Did that mean Mike Monsky was rich?

  As if he could read her mind he added, “He’s got two sons working in the business, besides me. We were all in the Pacific together.”

  “Uncle Henry was in the war. He got shot in the leg.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Mike Monsky said.

  “How about you?” Miri asked. “Did you get shot?”

  “No, I was lucky.”

  “Rusty says they used to call you ‘Lucky.’ ” This was a complete lie. She didn’t know why she said it.

  “Really? I never heard that.”

  “Neither did I,” Frekki said.

  “Lucky you didn’t get caught getting someone pregnant before Rusty.” She was getting in too deep now.

  “That’s a joke, right?” Mike Monsky asked.

  She shrugged. “If you say so.”

  “My daughter’s got a great sense of humor,” Mike said to Frekki, who just shook her head.

  Then he turned back to Miri and smiled. She didn’t want to like his smile but she did.

  “Please stop calling me your daughter,” she told him. “You don’t know me.”

  “You’re right. But I hope I’ll have the chance to remedy that.”

  Frekki looked at her watch. “I don’t want to break this up but I’ve got to get home. We have company coming for dinner. Don’t forget,” she reminded Mike, “seven-thirty, in a tie and jacket.”

  “Go ahead,” Mike Monsky told Frekki. “I’ll make sure Miri gets home safe and sound and I’ll see you later.”

  “Take the Cadillac.” Frekki passed her car keys to him. “I’ll take the Buick.”

  In the car, he turned on the radio. Pete Seeger and the Weavers were singing “So Long, It’s Been Good to Know You”—a song that perfectly described her feelings about today. She bet he was sorry he’d turned to that station. Maybe he did it so he wouldn’t have to talk to her on the drive home. Maybe it was to save her from having to talk to him.

  When they got close to Sayre Street she told him to drop her off two blocks away, where there was less danger of Rusty or Irene seeing her in the car with him. He turned off the ignition and faced her. “You should know,” he said, “I changed my last name to ‘Monk’ when I married Adela. My sister doesn’t know and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell her. I’d like to be the one to break the news.”

  “Why are you telling me?”

  “You know why. Because you’re my daughter.”

  She bristled.

  “It would be your last name, too.”

  “My last name is Ammerman.”

  “You know what I mean.” He reached for her hand. For one second she looked into his eyes and saw her own. Then she pulled her hand away, jumped out of the car and ran for home.

  Later, she remembered the way his hand had felt, warm and strong. My father, she thought. That asshole was my father. She reminded herself not to like him. Reminded herself he’d abandoned Rusty before she was even born. She didn’t know if it happened that way, but she assumed it had. He planted the seed, then he flew the coop. She vaguely remembered Rusty telling her that when she was small and asking about her daddy. She had no idea what it meant at the time. She’d imagined a chicken sitting on an egg. Now she heard Irene’s voice in her head. You can’t trust the Monskys. And it was true, wasn’t it? Frekki had tricked her. And who was this guy who called himself her “father,” really? He could be anybody. His stories could all be invented. No, she would not allow herself to like him.

  —

  RUSTY AND IRENE WANTED to hear about her day with Frekki. She told them about the restaurant, the show, ice cream at Gruning’s. But she didn’t mention Mike Monsky. Seeing him was her latest secret.

  Elizabeth Daily Post

  “PARK AND SPARK”

  JAN. 31—In this so-called “modern age” of the hot rod and snazzy car, the problem of teenagers parking seems to be a big one for parents. But a smart girl will realize that if her popularity hinges on “park and spark” it will be short-lived. There’s a price to be paid for free and easy necking. Girls know what a horrible nightmare a girl with a bad reputation must live through.

  18

  Christina

  Christina wasn’t thrilled about going on a double date with Mason and Miri. But Jack wanted to do this for his brother, so she would do her best to make sure a good time was had by all. It wasn’t that she didn’t like spending time with Mason and she had nothing against Miri, though she knew her only from Dr. O’s office and as Natalie’s friend. It was about not wanting to give up her time alone with Jack. She’d missed her chance last night because she’d had to go with her family to an engagement party for her least favorite of the cousins who worked at Three Brothers.

  There would be no time to go to Jack’s room tonight, something she’d been doing lately. Jack wasn’t allowed to have overnight guests, wasn’t allowed to entertain women in his room, so he had to sneak her in, which wasn’t that hard. Mrs. O’Malley knew her now, and understood she wasn’t Jack’s sister. But she also knew Christina was a good girl from a good family and that Jack was not going to take advantage of her so she was willing to look the other way if she caught a glimpse of Christina going up the stairs. It wasn’t as easy with Christina’s mother. If Christina was unable to be home by 11:30 p.m., she had to call and explain why. And it had better be a good excuse, like a snowstorm, something Mama could see for herself. As far as Mama knew, she was going to the movies with a group of friends tonight, which was almost the truth. She didn’t add that the movie was playing in Newark or that it was The Thing, which they’d missed when it first came out last spring.

  Miri

  “What’s going on?” Rusty asked Miri. “Why are you dressing up?”

  “Mom, I told you I’m going on a double date tonight.”

  “On a Sunday?”

  “Yes, because Mason had to work late last night. We’re going with Christina and Jack.”

  “Who are they?”

  “Mason’s brother, Jack. And Christina from Dr. O’s office.”

  “Christina goes with Mason’s brother?”

  “Yes, Jack McKittrick.” Why couldn’t Rusty keep any of this straight?

  “How old is Jack?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe twenty-one or twenty-two.”

  “I don’t want you going out with someone
that old!”

  “Mom…Christina and Jack are the chaperones. You know Christina from Dr. O’s office.”

  “She seems like a responsible girl,” Rusty said, more to herself than to Miri.

  “Yes.”

  “Daisy says good things about her.”

  “See? And she’s going to work for Dr. O full-time next year.”

  “Where are you going…that is, if I give you permission to go.”

  “To see The Thing.” Here it comes, Miri thought, bracing herself.

  “The Thing? I don’t want you to see that movie. It’s a horror movie. You won’t sleep for a week.”

  She could have said, It can’t be anywhere near as scary as the real things I’ve seen, but she didn’t. Rusty had the power to send her to her room and keep her there. Instead, she argued, “Mom, please. It’s just a movie. It came out last year. It’s science fiction. Everyone at school has seen it, even the teachers.” This last part was a stretch.

  “I’ll bet Christina would choose a different movie.”

  “Yeah, some love story, probably. You want me to see that kind of movie with Mason?”

  “No, I do not!”

  Miri decided to change the subject. “And then we’ll probably stop for burgers.”

  “Not at the White Castle. They serve horse meat.”

  “That’s just something Nana said to scare you when you were young.”

  “No, it’s the truth. During the war they used horse meat.”

  “Well, the war is over.” What happened to happy-go-lucky Rusty from last weekend?

  “Korea isn’t over.”

  “That doesn’t mean they still serve horse meat.” An image of Natalie at summer camp, astride a sleek black horse, popped into her head.

  “No burgers at the White Castle,” Rusty said. “Do you understand?”

  “Okay. No burgers at the White Castle.”

  “How are you getting there?”

  “Jack has a truck. He’s a very safe driver.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because he uses it to get to work. He’s an electrician. Christina says he’s the best.”

  “Ha—she’s no judge if she’s in love. You tell him you’re my only child.”

  “He knows.”

  “How does he know?”

  What was this, the Spanish Inquisition? “Okay, I’ll tell him.”

  “And I want you home by ten. It’s a school night, after all. And get all your homework done first.”

  “I’m almost done with my homework.”

  Something was making Rusty act crazy tonight. Maybe she was getting her period. Maybe she had a spirit living inside her, too, like Natalie. Maybe it was only a matter of time before the dead moved into all their bodies.

  Rusty came in for a hug. Surrounded by her familiar Mom scent, Miri thought, There’s so much I wish I could tell you, Mom, but I can’t.

  —

  THE MOVIE WASN’T as bad or as scary as she’d thought. After, at the White Castle, Miri ordered only fries and a Coke, while the others ate hamburgers. She didn’t warn them about eating horse meat. They’d laugh at her, she knew, so she explained that she wasn’t that hungry, probably because of the roast chicken Irene had served for Sunday dinner. Jack picked up the check for all of them.

  Jack was proud of his ’48 Dodge panel truck, keeping it clean and in good shape, his equipment stored in fitted wooden boxes. Miri and Mason sat on a little rug on the floor in the back and necked on the way home, sometimes falling over when the truck took a turn, making them laugh. Once, Christina slid open the little window between the front and back to look in on them. “What’s going on? Are you two okay?”

  “We’re fine,” they said at the same time.

  “You’re sitting up?” Christina asked.

  “Like soldiers in a row,” Mason said, tightening his fingers around Miri’s.

  —

  JACK AND CHRISTINA DROPPED Mason and Miri off at her house. It was too cold to sit outside on the steps so they crept down to the basement, something they’d done a couple of times before. It was dark and dank even though Henry had painted the walls and the floor in a pale blue color and the oil burner kept it warm. A single bulb on a pull string gave them light. Piles of cartons were neatly stacked, along with summer furniture for the porch. They sat together on a beach chair until it collapsed, sending them both to the concrete floor, laughing. After that, they unwound a summer rug and lay down on it. The sisal was itchy but it would have been a lot itchier if they weren’t fully dressed. They had to be very quiet. Had to whisper. Miri wasn’t sure what would happen if they were discovered. Henry would probably be okay with it, and Irene never came to the basement. But Rusty—she never knew with Rusty.

  “Let’s play Trust,” Mason said.

  “How do you play?”

  “You’ve never played Trust?”

  “No. I’ve never even heard of it. Is it a board game?”

  He took her hand and smiled. “You tell me something you’ve never told anyone else. Then I tell you.”

  “You tell me first,” Miri said.

  He turned toward her, propping himself up on an elbow. “My mom…” he began.

  He’d never told her anything about his parents. He’d never mentioned either one of them except to say the kaleidoscope had been his mother’s. She figured they were dead or he wouldn’t be living at Janet Memorial Home.

  “My mom,” he began again, “she took off after my dad slugged her so hard he knocked out her front teeth and broke her nose and cheekbone. She said next time he’d kill her. ‘I’ll come back for you, Mason,’ she promised the night she came to my room holding a small suitcase. ‘I’ll come back for you and we’ll go away together.’ I was eleven and I believed her. Instead they found her on the railroad tracks the next day. She either fell or jumped and the train rolled over her. At the time, nobody bothered to tell me. Easier if I didn’t know, they thought. Jack finally told me. He said it was an accident but I think she jumped.”

  Miri didn’t know what to say.

  “Before she left,” Mason continued, “she lay down next to me on my bed and said, ‘He won’t hurt you. He’d never hurt you. You just stay out of his way when he’s drinking. Get out of the house. Go with Jack. Go anywhere. Just get out of his way.’ I ran the night he came after me with an ax. Picked up Fred and got the hell out of there. That’s the night Jack took me to Janet.”

  Miri could not stop the hot tears. She covered her face.

  “Hey, come on, don’t…” Mason said. “It’s okay.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not okay.”

  “Yeah, it is. Look, I’m here, aren’t I?” He kissed away her tears.

  Then it was her turn. What could she possibly confide that was anything compared to his story? How simple her life was next to his. How easy. She had just one secret to share with him. “My mom was never married. The guy who got her pregnant with me…his name is Mike Monsky and the day I got my haircut I met him. My mom doesn’t know. No one does except my aunt, an aunt I never knew I had.”

  There, she’d said it. She didn’t call him her father—because he didn’t even know her, had never taken care of her, had never even seen a baby picture of her. What kind of father would that be? Better than one who chases you with an ax, she thought. But it’s still cutting you up inside, isn’t it?

  Give her something special for Valentine’s Day

  NIA’S LINGERIE

  Featuring the Finest

  In Sleepwear.

  Elegance Is Our Motto.

  Broad Street

  Elizabeth

  19

  Christina

  Christina was at the store, helping her mother and sister get ready for Valentine’s Day. They would soon be hosting a special evening for gentlemen only to choose gifts for their wives, even their girlfriends. Nia wasn’t crazy about the idea but Athena convinced her to give it a try. “Stop worrying, Mama. The merchandise can only be r
eturned for store credit, so we can’t lose. But it won’t be returned, because a wife would never insult her husband, who went to all this trouble to please her. Believe me, she’ll wear it even if it’s something she wouldn’t normally be caught dead in.”

  “Unless she dies of embarrassment,” Nia said. “Then she’d be caught dead in it.”

  “Are you making a joke, Mama?” Athena asked.

  “Of course she’s making a joke,” Christina said. “Isn’t that right, Mama?”

  Nia just shook her head at her daughters.

  Athena was counting on the gentlemen’s desire to see their wives in black negligees. The younger ones, especially, but also the ones whose old-world wives wore black every day, though never at bedtime.

  “Black,” Nia screamed, pretending to faint, as Athena unpacked lacy black nightgowns. “Who would sleep in something black?” She blamed Athena’s bad judgment on the pregnancy.

  On the day that Athena brought in a window dresser to prepare the store for Valentine’s Day, Mrs. Osner came into the shop for the first time.

  Athena asked if she could help her.

  “I need something to lift my spirits,” Mrs. Osner said.

  “How about something red?” Athena asked.

  “I almost never wear red. But maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m in a red mood.” She selected a lacy red nightgown and a matching peignoir to go over it. “I’m a small,” Mrs. Osner told Athena. “Do you have these in a small?”

  “I’m sure we do,” Athena said. Then she called, “Christina…” in her best voice. “Can you find these in a small?”

  Christina stepped out from behind the curtain separating the dressing rooms and the stock from the front shop. “Oh, my goodness, Christina,” Mrs. Osner said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

  “This is my mother’s store,” Christina explained. “My mother’s and my sister’s. Athena, this is Mrs. Osner, Dr. Osner’s wife.”

  “I’m so glad to meet you,” Athena said.

  Mrs. Osner smiled. “And I’m so glad you’re carrying these elegant underpinnings. Saves me a trip to East Orange.”