Jacob led her to the glassed-in back porch, where an old Maytag washer still remained.
Molly summoned her back to the kitchen. “Look, Sara,” she said, sliding back the narrow wall panel. Sara looked from the kitchen side into the diningroom. The opening was between the upper cabinet and the counter of the buffet.
Sara smiled at her mother. “Jacob was right, it is beautiful.”
Molly shook her head as she remembered the house in Monte Carlo. When had she ever really forgotten? Sara thinks she’s the only one that’s ever been deprived, she thought, and I also remember having to sell my flats so Sara could have this. She tried to dismiss the jealousy. She wanted Sara to have this. Still, Jacob had never mentioned giving her back the money he owed her…
They could hear Doris and Lillian running from room to room upstairs. When Doris saw her mother come to the second floor she said breathlessly, “Five bedrooms! Which one can I have, mama?”
“We’ll see…” Sara said walking past her, scarcely hearing, thinking of the past, the future…
Of course, that’s so like mama, Rachel thought. How nice if mama had said, “What room would you like, Doris, which one would please you?” But mama was too concerned with mama. Poor papa…well, at least she wouldn’t have to sleep in the same room with Doris anymore. Whichever room she got would be hers and no one would invade her privacy.
Rachel grimaced when she heard Sara’s voice rising at Lillian, who had climbed into the bathtub and was splashing in the running water. “What are you doing? Oh, God, that’s all I need now is for you to come down with a cold, I don’t have enough to do—”
“Everyone come up quick,” Doris called from the attic. “Look,” Doris said, holding up the lid of the large cretonne-covered chest.
The family looked inside. There were satin dresses, wide-brimmed plumed hats, veils, beads and fans. It was Doris’s treasure chest…hers.
“Jacob, we’ll have to clean this junk out.”
“No,” Doris cried out, “it’s mine. I want it…please.”
Sara looked at her. “It’s a bunch of old rags. God knows how long they’ve been here…”
“I don’t care.”
Hesitating for a moment, Sara finally said, “All right, but don’t touch them until I take a look. They might have moths or lice or God knows what…”
Sara didn’t hear Doris’ thank-you. She was looking about from one object to another. Four white wicker chairs, an old rocker, three oval tables with white marble tops, a red velvet sofa with a broken leg, a dresser, gold-leaf frames and family portraits…Is that what our lives become at the end, she wondered, a bunch of discarded portraits? Quickly she dismissed the thought; she was being altogether too philosophical today.
“Jacob, is the man going to take all these things?”
“No, whatever’s here goes with the house.”
“I see…well, what do you think we should do with it all?”
“Keep it, what else?”
“But only until we can buy new, you mean…”
“Of course. You like the house, Sara?” He knew she did but he wanted to hear her say it.
“Yes, Jacob, yes. The furniture’s not quite what I want, but it will be all right when I’m finished—”
“I know you always had good taste, Sara. Now, you haven’t seen everything yet,” he said as he started downstairs with the family following. He took them down the driveway and showed them the garage and adjoining building which had once been a small barn. To the side was a small garden. Although it was now overgrown with weeds, Sara could see the roses and the daffodils.
“It’s beautiful, Jacob. Well, you finally got a little mazel,” Molly said.
“You make your own luck,” Jacob answered.
“Luck helps a little on its own,” Sara said, defending her mother.
“You think what you want, but all the luck Jacob Sandsonitsky got, he made.” …
The rest of the week Sara and the girls scrubbed and cleaned every nook and cranny. The old pots and pans were sterilized, then placed in the cupboard.
Dishes and silver were no problem. Molly had more than she’d ever sell. Nothing matched, but Sara was more than content to wait.
The windows were washed with vinegar-water and dried with newspaper. As Sara washed the stained-glass window on the front door she remembered how Molly had shattered Mrs. Bromberg’s glass door. How she hated Mrs. Bromberg and her hypocrisy. Hershel was just as hypocritical, but if he could see where they were living he’d eat his heart out. For all his showing off, Gittel was still living in the back of the store. Sara smiled. She had married the right man. For now…
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SARA BEGAN PREPARING FOR Passover. Although it had been a long time since she had kept kosher, Passover still had special meaning.
Jacob brought home a crate of fresh farm eggs, a sack of onions and potatoes. He drove Sara to Klein’s on Seventh Street, where she bought matzo…matzo meal and wine. Then they went to Rothstein’s for the chicken and the fish.
That afternoon, as the huge pot of carrots, onions and fishheads were bubbling, she took a moment to sit down for a cup of tea and a piece of strudel. After today all the bread and cake would have to be finished or thrown out; for the next week only matzo and matzo meal could be used.
After tea, she began making the fish paste into perfect oval shapes. With that complete, she carefully dropped each one into the boiling stock, covered the pot and lowered the flame. The aroma was sheer heaven. Next she set herself to the task of cakemaking. With a hand beater, she beat the frothy whites until they stood in stiff peaks, then folded them into the egg yolks and added the sugar and matzo meal. While the sponge cakes were baking, she cleaned the chickens that she would cook the next morning.
Today Sara was happy. Life was good and it promised to be better. Sara had a home.
When the doorbell rang, Sara wiped her hands on her apron and went to the front door. When she opened it she could hardly believe what she saw. “Shlomo, my God…when did you get here?”
“This morning.” He laughed and took her more than ample body in his arms.
“I’m so excited, oh, Shlomo…”
“Well, are you just going to let me stand here?”
“No. Come in, come in.” She took his hand and led him to the kitchen. “Sit down, Shlomo, I’ll get you something to eat—”
“Thank you, Sara, but I had lunch.”
“A cup of tea?”
“That would be nice. It’s been a long time since I sat in someone’s kitchen and had a cup of tea…You look wonderful, Sara.”
“And you too.” Putting on the water, she went on, “Tell me about yourself, everything…”
“Everything? You sure you want to know?” They laughed.
Sara smiled wickedly. “You know what I mean. Why didn’t you let us know you were coming?”
“By the time you would have received a letter I would already be here.”
“Are you here to stay?”
“Yes.”
“You mean you’re discharged from the marines?”
“No, I was just transferred back to the States. I’m stationed at Mare Island.”
“How long will you be there?”
Shlomo laughed. “The marines don’t take you into their confidence—you go where they send you. But I have a feeling I’ll be here for a while.”
“But you don’t have to go back today?”
“No, I’m on leave for three days.”
“Oh, thank God. Then you’ll stay here with us, Shlomo.”
“I’d love that…”
Sara poured the tea and put a plate of cakes on the table. “Please eat the strudel, I really hate throwing it out. Tomorrow’s Passover, you know…”
“I know.” Taking a sip of tea, Shlomo looked across the table. “I can see you’re happy, Sara.”
“Yes.” She sighed. “This is the first time I’ve really ever had a home.”
“It’s lovely and you deserve it.”
“Well, thank you, life hasn’t been so easy for any of us.”
“And Jacob?”
“I think he’s the happiest and busiest man in the world.”
“I’m glad. I always knew Jacob would make it.”
“He’s making a good living. Of course, nothing is perfect, Shlomo. Jacob’s inclined to be rather difficult when it comes to money…”
“I suppose when you’ve been poor all your life, Sara, it can get very frightening to part with money.”
“For some people—”
“Well, I don’t know, Sara, I always saw something very special in Jacob.”
“Special I don’t know about, but I guarantee you no one works harder. I really didn’t think he was so smart. I suppose you’re right, Shlomo. In his way he is special. But then, so are you. If things had been different for you, you’d have made a lot out of yourself. I know you always wanted to go to college—”
“Tell me about the children.”
“Well, they’re very nice little girls…although Rachel is a little difficult…It’s hard to believe that a mother shouldn’t be able to understand her own child but she’s…well, defiant and quite stubborn, keeps to herself…I don’t know who she takes after, but in some ways she is quite a lot like her father…I don’t know, Shlomo, they all have a lot more than we ever had. A mother and father to provide for them—”
“And the other two?”
“Doris is…what can I say? She hates school, she’s no student…Doris has two loves—talking and going to the movies…”
“And the little one?”
“Not so little anymore. She goes to kindergarten…Listen, what can I say? They’re children. Now, tell me, Shlomo, have you met anyone?”
“I’ve met a lot.”
“But no one special?”
“In the marines you don’t meet the kind of girls you’d want to bring home to mama. Besides, I’m not looking to settle down. Now, tell me about your mother. You must be thrilled to be together finally…”
As Sara went on, Shlomo thought how much she had changed from that sad, beautiful young girl who had first come to live with them. Although he still loved her deeply, there was an underlying discontent in her that disturbed him. She loved her children and yet she spoke of them as if they were a burden—unlike Gittel, who thought the sun and moon set on her children. Sara didn’t have it any harder than Gittel, but she seemed to dwell on her own hardships and sacrifices. He hoped it was just his imagination, but he suspected it wasn’t…
Sara heard the sound of the truck turning into the driveway. “It’s Jacob. Wait till he sees you—”
When Jacob walked into the kitchen and saw Shlomo he was speechless. He put down the boxes he was carrying and took Shlomo around the shoulders and they embraced. For a moment they were back in Esther’s restaurant…I knew some day you’d come back. Mama always said you’d come home…Jacob released his brother and looked at his new uniform. All thoughts of his aversion for it were forgotten in his joy at seeing his brother.
“When did you get here?”
“This morning.”
“I can’t get over it. You’re home to stay?”
“Well, not exactly, but I’ll be stationed Stateside for a while.”
Jacob’s disappointment showed. “Well, one of these days when you get the craziness out of your system, you’ll come into my business.”
It wasn’t all that crazy, Shlomo thought, better than he would have done in the civilian world. If he stayed in the marines he’d have a pension for the rest of his life and the experience he’d had was something money couldn’t buy. The world was a big place and he’d seen a great deal of it…these last few years the Philippines, Singapore, Siam and the Far East. His life had widened, but Jacob wouldn’t be too interested…“Sara was telling me how much you love your business and that you’re making a good living.”
“Better than I ever thought. I paid off the house as well as the loan from Sara’s mother. The important thing is to stay out of debt. You got to have money to make money and if we’re careful, as there’s a God in heaven, I’m going to make a barrel.”
“There’s that much money in meat?”
“You bet, but the real money’s not in calves, it’s in cattle. Next week I’m going to buy my first cows.”
“You sound really excited, Jacob.”
“Why not? Look at the partner I’m going to have.” Jacob beamed at his younger brother.
“Some partner, with my great capital, you’ll become a millionaire overnight.”
“I’ll become a millionaire anyway. It’s you I need, not the money.”
The conversation was interrupted as Doris came bounding into the kitchen with Lillian not far behind.
It all smelled so delicious, but when she saw her uncle she forgot even the delights of Passover.
“Uncle Shlomo!” she screamed, and flew into his open arms.
He kissed her and held her chubby body. “You’re such a big girl now and so beautiful. I would never have recognized you.”
She was beautiful? Nobody had told her that before. “Thank you, I’m so happy to see you.”
“Me too. And this is the baby?”
Doris watched as Shlomo picked up Lillian. For a moment she was jealous. When she grew up, she would marry him. She loved him even more than she loved William S. Hart. And besides, he was her relative…
When Rachel opened the front door and started for her room Sara called out, “Rachel, I have a surprise.”
“What?”
“If I tell, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
“Let me put my books away first.”
Sara grimaced. Why couldn’t she ever do what she was asked? “Leave your books on the stairs and come down.”
Reluctantly, Rachel did as mama requested. When she saw her uncle, there was genuine surprise on her face. He was the handsomest man she’d ever seen—except for papa. Her heart beat peculiarly and her knees nearly buckled as he took her into his arms. Slightly frightened of her feelings, she shyly returned the embrace, then awkwardly stood looking at him without knowing what to say.
He held her at arm’s length. She was exquisite, so tall and slim. She had Jacob’s blond hair and startlingly blue eyes, and her skin was as translucent as fine porcelain. “I can’t get over you, Rachel. You’re not only beautiful but you’re already a young lady. I almost forgot that you were thirteen.”
“Fourteen, this year,” Rachel answered, lowering her eyes in embarrassment.
“All right, Rachel. Go change your clothes and come right down. I want you to help,” Sara said.
Looking up into Shlomo’s eyes, for once she was grateful for mama’s command. She ran up the stairs.
The next day Jacob showed Shlomo the stores he sold to and began to explain his business. He told him about how he and Smitty had started, the problems he’d had, the hardships and how he had conquered them. He confided that although it was illegal, they slaughtered their own calves.
“Not that anything was ever easy, but this time, Shlomo, I really worked. In the beginning I didn’t have the price for a room, so even in the dead of winter I slept in the back of the truck and froze my ass off. But it was worth it. You know how much money I have in the bank?”
“No, Jacob, how much?”
“Five thousand dollars.”
“That’s a lot of money.”
“At one time I would have thought it was a fortune, but money’s strange. The more you make the more you need if you’re going to get ahead, keep going…It’s not really very much, Shlomo. I’d hardly call myself a rich man.”
“Sure sounds like a lot of money to me.”
“It is, but not compared to what I’m going to make. And this I promise you, Shlomo, no matter what I have to do, one day I’m going to own a plant of my own. My only problem is with Sara.”
“In what way?”
“She refuses to unde
rstand that the money I have now is the capital I need to build on. She wants to furnish the house but that’s a luxury I can’t afford to give her now. To be honest, Shlomo, I don’t have the easiest life with her. She doesn’t understand that the business has to grow, has to provide us with some security before she can start spending every cent I make. So I have to be careful what I tell her about the business.”
“You’ve changed, Jacob.”
“Sure I have. You know something, Shlomo? I never told her this, but when I slaughtered my first calf I threw up…I was sick for a week. But I had to forget, not think about it.” For a moment the echoes of the past came back…forget it’s a man you’re fighting, fight for love, fight for Lotte…“I had to keep remembering the kids and Sara and our future.”
“And now?”
“It’s easier now. You have to get pretty hard if you want to survive. Say…who knows that better than you? What about the war? I bet it’s tough to kill a man, even if he is the enemy—”
Shlomo didn’t answer. He wouldn’t tell Jacob now, but he was not going into business with him. He was going to reenlist.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
LIFE, IN ITS INEXORABLE fashion, went on.
Molly’s death affected Jacob more than he would have imagined. It wasn’t, truth to tell, that he missed her so much as that his own childhood fear of death came back to haunt him, and he began to reflect on his own mortality. Remembering his childhood nightmares, he refused to allow the girls to attend the funeral. Sara was so devastated that her protests were subdued, and her bereavement lasted for a longer time than was customary. She was inconsolable, and now remembered Molly only as the mother she would have liked her to have been.
With Molly’s death, Sara had only her children to cling to. Jacob was consumed with his work and the closer he came to achieving his goals the further apart he and Sara seemed to grow. He was away much of the time now in Oregon, Nevada, Wyoming and Montana, where he bought cattle on speculation and then sold them to the stockyards in South San Francisco.
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