Portraits

by Cynthia Freeman

Finally Jacob broke the silence. “Shlomo wants to buy a house.”

  “So? Why don’t they buy one?” Sara said.

  “He needs the money for a down payment.”

  “Oh, I see, and he wants you to give it to him.”

  “Not give, loan.”

  “Why doesn’t Nadine go to her father?”

  “They don’t have any money, Sara, you know that.”

  “So who are you? Mr. Rockefeller? If anyone needs a new house, it’s us. Did you ever consider how I feel living in this mausoleum?”

  “This is no mausoleum, it’s a beautiful house—”

  “Beautiful? Then why don’t you sell it to Shlomo. For God’s sake, we have our daughters to think of. This neighborhood is so bad, no wonder Dr. Levin didn’t say he’d call Doris.”

  Well, they did remember she had a name, although they didn’t seem to notice she was sitting with them in the same room…

  “It wasn’t because of the house, Sara, and you know it. I didn’t marry you because you had such a beautiful house.”

  “Let’s not get started on that, all right? Look, Jacob, it isn’t even proper for a man in your position to live like this. My God, you’re a well-to-do man.”

  “I’m not that well-to-do. Besides, we weren’t talking about us. I asked about loaning the money to Shlomo.”

  He was still a frightened man when it came to money…The more he acquired the more he was apprehensive about losing it. Of course he wanted to help his brother, but at the same time…

  “What do you think, Sara?”

  “Why do you ask me? You’ll do what you want anyway. You care more about Nadine having a baby than you do about your own children. If you were that considerate of your own family and would realize that Doris needs a decent place to bring a fellow to, maybe she’d stand a chance of getting married. Maybe if we’d had a decent home, Rachel wouldn’t have married a goy. For God’s sake, Jacob, when we bought this place we were lucky to have a roof over our heads, but things are different now…”

  Doris got up and walked out unnoticed. Did her whole life depend on a house? Didn’t they think that maybe someone might like her just because she was Doris? No, she was just a bargaining point for mama to use to her own advantage.

  On Thursday night the phone rang and Sara ran to answer it.

  “How are you, Mrs. Sanders. This is Henry.”

  She stammered, “Wonderful, Henry. How nice of you to call.”

  “I should have called sooner to thank you for dinner but I’ve really been busy and haven’t had a moment—”

  “I can imagine what a doctor’s life is like…”

  The truth was, he had hoped that not calling would give Doris a chance to miss him. “Is Doris in?”

  “Well…I’m not sure. She has a date tonight, but maybe she’s still home.”

  “Thanks, I’ll wait.”

  She ran upstairs and burst into Doris’ room. “The doctor’s on the phone.”

  Imagine, mama, he called in spite of the mausoleum…“Tell him I’m at the library.”

  “You go downstairs this very minute.”

  This was the first time she’d heard a voice directed to her in nearly a week…She got out of bed and went down the stairs, with Sara close behind. When she picked up the receiver, mama’s look said, “If he asks, you say yes.”

  “Henry?”

  “Hi, Doris. I’m glad you’re still home.”

  Still home? “Oh, yeah, that was a lucky break.”

  “How are you?”

  “Fine, Henry, and you?”

  “Are you busy Saturday?”

  One look at mama and she said, “No, the fellow I had a date with broke his leg.”

  “Oh, that’s a shame…Then I can see you?”

  Doris could hear mama’s breathing. “Sure, that would be fine, Henry.”

  “Where would you like to go? Is the Mark Hopkins all right?”

  What about Buckingham Palace? My last date was there. “I love the Mark Hopkins.”

  “So do I. Seven-thirty?”

  “Swell.” Doris hung up and was about to go upstairs when Sara cornered her. “I want to talk to you, Doris.”

  My goodness, mama remembered she had a name. “Yes, mama, what would you like to talk about?” As if she didn’t know.

  “Let’s go into the livingroom.”

  Wow, this had to be special. The livingroom was reserved for royalty.

  “So tell me, what did he say?” Sara asked, abruptly all smiles and solicitude.

  “It seems Dr. Levin wants to take me to the Mark Hopkins Saturday night.”

  “Oh, Doris, I’m so pleased…You see? There’s a difference between the boys Murial and the others go out with—those law students who spend a whole dollar to take a girl to the Clairmont Hotel for dancing and a pitcher of punch.”

  It should only happen to me, thought Doris. “Well, I don’t suppose it matters so much if you’re having fun and you like the fellow.”

  “Now, you listen to me, Doris. Henry likes you. That’s obvious.”

  “Why is it obvious?”

  “That’s stupid, Doris.” For once there was no bite in her words, just motherly concern. Even weariness.

  “Why is it stupid?”

  “Because if he didn’t why would he call?”

  “I think it’s maybe because he’s desperate, mama.” Mama was really pushing. Still, she seemed really to care…“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound sarcastic. I suppose he thinks I’m…oh, I don’t know what he thinks…”

  “Look, Doris, please be smart for once, use your head. When you want to you can be very bright, you know.”

  “Thank you very much, mama. So tell me how to be bright now.”

  “He’s not a boy with a crush, and you’re not the most popular girl in Oakland, Doris. I don’t mean to say you’re not nice or attractive, especially when you get dressed up. But Henry called because he likes you. Do you think he doesn’t have every Jewish girl in town after him? Ugly, he’s not. In fact, Lillian said she thought he looked like Clark Gable.”

  “But the truth is, mama, I’m not looking for someone who looks like Clark Gable.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “For someone I like.”

  “And you don’t like him?” Sara asked with total, genuine dismay.

  “I like him…But first of all as undesirable as I may be, I do have some standards. I’m grateful he asked me out, but I also feel like he’s an uncle and I owe some loyalty to—”

  “Doris, please be smart. I’m begging you. Rachel married a man your father’s age and she claims she’s divinely happy.”

  “But I’m not Rachel, mama. I’m trying to be Doris.”

  “Then be Doris, and be smart. How many eligible men are around these days who can make a living for a girl? How many?”

  “I believe at the last census it was four-point-two, on the Jewish community scale.”

  “Doris, I’m trying to be patient. I’m your mother and I want the best for you. Don’t you know that?”

  Looking at her mother’s pleading eyes, Doris nodded.

  “Well, then, why don’t you listen to me? If you gave yourself a chance and really put your mind on it, you’d find out what a catch Henry is. Sylvia’s been praying for three years that he’d marry her, and you say the Silvermans are one of the best Jewish families in Oakland.”

  “All of that’s true. But even if I liked him, I wouldn’t get serious…”

  “Why?”

  “Because, as I started to say, of my friendship with Murial, who happens to care about her sister. It just isn’t right, mama. I’d never be able to hold my head up. I’d feel so ashamed.”

  By now Sara was beginning to run out of patience. “Listen to me, Doris, and listen carefully. If you had a fellow Sylvia liked, do you think for one moment she’d hesitate to take him away from you? If you think so, you’re living in a dream world. As far as I’m concerned the Silvermans, includ
ing Murial and Sylvia, can go to hell. You miss this chance and you’ll regret it. Both papa and I think he’s perfect for you.”

  “It’s very nice, mama, when parents approve. But you and papa seem to have overlooked one small item…”

  “What’s that?”

  “He hasn’t asked me to marry him.”

  “That’s up to a woman. If she knows how, she can get any man she wants. If a woman’s smart, she knows how to please a man. Flattery is important—men are egotists. Don’t boast or show off how smart you are. Agree when he says something.”

  Oh, that was rich, coming from mama, “Is that how you got papa? Being shy and coy?”

  “That’s exactly how. Papa thought I was the most naïve, submissive girl in the world.”

  “Then suppose a woman wants to assert herself later. It must come as a shock to the poor unsuspecting husband…”

  “Worry about that later. Now, Doris, you listen to me, I’m counseling you, the way any good mother should.”

  Doris suddenly felt frightened to see her mother like this, so calculating, never mind the reasons. She had always wanted to love her mother, had needed to, which was at least partly why she put on the smart-aleck front, to cover up the hurt she felt…But sometimes mama just went too far for her, and that was when it hurt the most…

  “I see you’re thinking this over carefully, Doris.”

  “Oh, you bet I am, mama. There’s a lot in what you say.”

  “Thank you, Doris. It’s nice when children occasionally listen to parents. Now, tomorrow I want you to buy a new dress. Get a long black one—it’s slenderizing. And a very tight girdle…No, I think you’d better get an all-in-one, it’ll help the bulge around your waist. I have a black beaded bag so there’s no use spending the money on that. And you’ll get the things at Goldman’s so you can get your ten-percent discount.”

  “Yes, that’s quite a saving…”

  “At least you’re not extravagant like Rachel.”

  Mama should only know what her paycheck was going to be with the deficit she had to make up. But maybe they’d let her charge it.

  “Doris, it’s really wonderful when a mother and daughter can have a heart-to-heart like this…It’s the way it should be. Now go upstairs and take a bath. You look tired.”

  She felt dead.

  That Saturday, when Doris came home from work she was met at the door by Lillian. “You got orchids!”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I couldn’t resist looking inside the box.”

  For the first time, Doris wanted to slap Lillian right in the mouth. “How dare you? Did it ever occur to you that I might like the pleasure of taking off the ribbons and opening my own present?”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything.”

  “Nobody ever means anything. If, God forbid, I should get a present or a letter, mama always opens it. Goddamn it, I’m sick and tired of it.”

  “You better not let mama and papa hear you swear.”

  “I learned it from them.” And then she smiled quickly at Lillian. It was difficult to stay angry at her. She was the wrong target, and Doris knew it…

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  THE BELL RANG AT seven-fifteen. Of course, it was the divine Henry. Well, she’d take her time. Papa was crazy about him. They could discuss Chrystie Street and the gym papa used to work out at.

  At seven twenty-five she walked into the livingroom feeling like she was in a straitjacket. The all-in-one was killing her—if she inhaled too deeply the dress seam might bust wide open. She stood in the livingroom in her black chiffon. The full skirt would hide the hips, the saleslady had advised, but Doris really loved it. The lace running around the neck and cuffs was flattering, the rhinestone buttons down the bodice were dazzling and even the cummerbund around her middle looked pretty good. Mama was right—to be svelte you had to suffer. And the all-in-one sure made her suffer, but at best her waist looked a size smaller. Her hair had been cut and marcelled, and her lips and nails were painted ruby red.

  She knew she looked all right when she saw the look on Henry’s face. “Doris, you look beautiful…”

  “Thank you, Henry. Now if you’ll excuse me for a minute, I’ll be right back. Please, just go on visiting with papa.” She walked out to the kitchen where she knew her mother would be waiting to examine her.

  She was right. “Let me look at you, Doris.”

  Doris stood under her scrutiny, feeling like a lump of clay.

  “You look like a different person.”

  Different from what or whom? “You approve?”

  “Yes, the dress is perfect. Just a little less lipstick.”

  Mama was the Jewish Elizabeth Arden. Doris ran her pinkie finger over her lips. “Better?”

  “Perfect.”

  Doris reached into the refrigerator to take out her flowers.

  “Doris! You’re not going to eat anything?”

  “Just my corsage.”

  She opened the box and saw two of the most beautiful white orchids she’d ever seen.

  Sara smiled. “See? That’s what I call a man with class.”

  Doris didn’t hear mama, she was genuinely touched. The first corsage she’d ever received…orchids. As she began to pin them on, Sara said, “Why don’t you let Henry do that? Men like to feel they’re doing you a favor, makes them feel manly.”

  Doris was more than willing to let Henry feel manly. Carrying them in her hand, she went back to the livingroom, with her mother and Lillian not far behind.

  “Thank you for the orchids, Henry. They’re really lovely.”

  “I’m happy you like them…”

  Doris attempted to pin them on, but as mama predicted, Henry said, “May I help?”

  “Thank you, Henry. How nice…”

  Mama smiled…Doris smiled back. Papa was beaming and Lillian was thinking how romantic it was. She was secretly in love with Henry. Just like Clark Gable…

  They sat in the Room of the Dons at the Mark Hopkins. No one would guess there was a Depression on; everyone was dressed to the nines and dancing to the rhythm of bandleader Al Kavelin, with Carmen Cavallaro at the piano.

  The dinner was salad, filet mignon, duchesse potatoes and green peas, and for dessert there was vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce. Doris had no trouble being careful about what she ate; the girdle was a constant reminder.

  Henry, she had to admit, was a great dancer for a man his age—in fact, for any age. He was decent and nice and kept telling her how beautiful she was. Maybe if he kept at it, she might even believe him…

  When they left the Mark Hopkins, Henry asked her if she had ever been to a speakeasy.

  To a speakeasy? This was the first time she’d ever had a date. Who did he think she was, Carole Lombard? “No, Henry, never.”

  “Would you like to go?”

  “I’d like to, but I don’t think I should.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I understand they’re always getting raided…”

  He laughed. “That’s in the movies. I know a place that, believe me, no one’s going to raid. How about it?”

  “Are you sure? I mean about getting raided?”

  “You can trust me.”

  They were greeted by a man behind a peephole at the top of the stairs in a building on Howe Place and Ellis Street.

  “I’m Dr. Levin,” Henry announced, as though he owned the first mortgage.

  The door opened and Doris found herself inside a room filled with lots of smoke, lots of people and lots of illegal booze. The dancing girls were dressed in pink sequins with ostrich feathers around their behinds, and they were tapping vigorously to the tune of “Mississippi Mud.”

  Next a buxom lady, endowed with the reddest hair Doris had ever seen, came out in purple spangles and belted out “Some of These Days.”

  Doris felt Henry’s hand on her arm, leading her to an alcove table with parted curtains.

  Henry noticed that she sat as far
away from him as possible, and when she crossed her leg it seemed to twitch nervously beneath the long black dress. He was about to reassure her when the waiter came for their order.

  “Doris?”

  “Oh, I’ll have a straight ginger ale and three cherries.”

  Henry ordered a bourbon, and soon the waiter was back with their drinks.

  She was really beautiful tonight, Henry thought. He’d never known anyone as amusing as she was, and if he sometimes detected a slight sadness in her it only made her seem more vulnerable. He touched his glass to hers. “To you, Doris, for a wonderful evening.”

  She smiled, somehow knowing he really meant it. But she was still uncomfortable here. She knew they were going to be raided any minute, and papa would have to come down and bail her out of the police station. She couldn’t wait to get out of here…

  God heard her. Even speakeasies closed and once again they were on safe territory in Henry’s De Soto.

  When they arrived in front of her house, Henry said, “Doris, I don’t know how to say this, but…I think I’m in love with you…”

  He waited. She said nothing. He ventured further. “Do you know what I did last Sunday night?”

  She shook her head.

  “When I got home I said to my mother, ‘Mama, I met the girl I’m going to marry,’ and she said, ‘Henry, if you love her, I’ll love her.’”

  Doris didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He’d told his mother he’d met a girl? Did it ever occur to him that maybe Doris would say no? It was obvious he hadn’t, as he put his arm around her and started to…my God, kiss her.

  She pulled away from him. “I used to laugh when the girls in the movies always said, ‘This is so sudden,’ but I’m not laughing now, Henry. But really, you don’t even know me.”

  “I know all I have to…”

  “What do you know?”

  “That you’re beautiful, sweet, intelligent, wonderful—”

  “And fat and—”

  “You don’t fall in love with fat or thin, Doris. You fall in love with a person.”

  She couldn’t believe her ears. To Henry she was a person? A real honest-to-God person? Beautiful, sweet, intelligent and he loved her. And somehow it stirred all the old insecurities. “Well, you really could have fooled me, Henry. I sure had no hint I was any of those things until tonight—”