by Meryl Ain
“Come on, Connie,” he said.
“You’re leaving so soon?” Jennie asked.
“Yeah, we have to get home and check on the kids,” Irv said. “It’s a school night, and we want to make sure the girls have finished their homework. And TJ needs to be fed. We just wanted to stop by and pay our respects.”
As they walked outside, Connie said, “I thought you said we were going to stay at least a half hour.”
“I forgot that they have a religious service at seven thirty. You might be uncomfortable.”
“Irv,” she said, “why would you say such a thing? You know that as a religious person myself, I respect other traditions. I would have been curious to see it.”
“Well, maybe another time.”
Minutes later, Murray Lesser walked in with his two sons—Randy, the Hebrew School bully, and the older boy, Kenny. Both boys had a cockiness that disgusted Aron. On the other hand, Aron was relieved that he now needed only one more man for the minyan.
Randy and Kenny made a beeline for Mindy and Bronka and JoJo, who were standing by her side. Randy had seemingly developed amnesia about how he had belittled and terrified the girls in Hebrew School. And why wouldn’t he? They were now attractive teenagers with pretty faces and cute figures.
Kenny, who was eighteen and a student at C. W. Post College in Brookville, had his hands all over Mindy, ostensibly in an attempt to comfort her. Vulnerable and grieving, the rather plain-looking Mindy clearly relished the attention.
By 7:45 Aron began to panic about Jakob’s lack of success in recruiting one more man to the minyan. But just then, the door opened and in walked an incredibly well-groomed, well-dressed, middle-aged man. He donned a yarmulke as he entered the house of shiva. His physical features might have been described as nondescript, but his demeanor screamed prosperous and sophisticated. No one in Bellerose had the means or the inclination to pay so much attention to their appearance. As all eyes turned to the stranger, Lenore gasped.
Still reeling from her encounter with Irv, she had not seen Al for ten years. But she would recognize him anywhere. He looked like a male version of Mindy. Moreover, her interaction with Irv had sapped all her anger and hatred. She was surprised that she was not unhappy to see him.
Aron went to shake his hand, while Jakob started distributing the prayer books.
“I’m Aron Lubinski, and you’re the tenth man; you make the minyan.”
Immediately, Aron began the service, first announcing which way was east, the direction Jews traditionally face when they pray—toward Jerusalem. Prayer books in hand, the ten men, Lenore and Jennie, and those guests who chose to remain in the living room gathered around Aron. A few of the women retired to the kitchen, including Faye, but Judy stood with Lenore, whose face had lost all its color and whose hands were shaking. Lenore could sense that Al was standing behind her. They had not yet acknowledged each other, and she willed herself not to turn around and glance at him. But she knew he was there. The familiar scent of tobacco comingled with the light, musky, powdery fragrance of Canoe wafted over her and filled her senses with aching and desire.
Unlike the rabbi or cantor, Aron raced through the evening prayers. He did not announce the pages until he got to the Mourner’s Kaddish. This he recited slowly so that Lenore and Jennie could keep up with him. At the end of the service, he asked Lenore to read aloud from Ecclesiastes. Her body shook and her voice cracked as she read:
To everything there is a season,
And a time to every purpose under heaven:
A time to be born and a time to die,
A time to plant and a time to reap,
A time to build up and a time to tear down,
A time to laugh and a time to weep,
A time to dance and a time to grieve,
A time to gather and a time to throw stones,
A time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
A time to seek and a time to lose,
A time to keep and a time to cast away,
A time to love and a time to hate
A time for war and a time for peace.
At the conclusion of the service, Aron intoned the traditional words of consolation—in Hebrew and in English—“May God comfort you together with all the other mourners of Zion and Jerusalem.”
No sooner had these words been spoken than Lenore felt Al’s hand on her shoulder. She turned around and instinctively threw her arms around him.
“Thank you for coming, and also for that gigantic basket,” she said.
He laughed, pleasantly surprised by her friendly welcome, as he embraced her.
“You look frozen in time,” he said as he gazed at her with the look that brought back a flood of memories. “You haven’t aged a day.”
“Actually, I’ve never looked worse,” she said.
“I’m sorry about your father. How is Mindy handling it?”
Mindy—her daughter’s name suddenly jolted her back to reality. Mindy, the sad, entitled teenager, who was grieving for her grandpa, her best friend. For a moment in Al’s arms, she had almost forgotten about her daughter, Al’s child—the one he had never seen. The daughter who thought he was dead.
“I can’t talk about Mindy now.”
Al was not only smart, but also strategic. He had played his cards well up to that point. He knew when to fold them.
“Perhaps we can catch up another time, Lenore.”
“Sure,” she said. “You can reach me at JHNQ. I work in the accounting office. I’ll walk you to the door.”
As Al opened the front door, she walked out onto the porch with him. He knew not to say another word, but instead, simply took her hand and kissed it.
“I’ll call you,” he said, as he headed toward a big black Cadillac Fleetwood that was parked in front of the Lubinski house. Lenore saw him get into the back seat with the easy grace of a person who was accustomed to a lifestyle that included a limousine and a chauffeur.
After the week of shiva, it was time for the Mandelsterns to resume their regular routines. The lack of the constant company of solicitous and chatty people was a welcome relief, but also an inescapable trigger that signified Harry was truly gone.
While Jennie found the steady flood of people exhausting, once the shiva was over, she was overwhelmed with feelings of loss and loneliness. She was now without the love of her life. She had known Harry since she was a teenager, and together, they had weathered everything life had thrown at them with dignity, courage, and good humor. Jennie wasn’t sure how she would go on without him. She knew she needed to—at least for Mindy and Lenore—but her husband had been her rock, and she suddenly felt weak and vulnerable and bereft—and every bit her age.
Mindy was sad and angry. She truly missed the love and company of her grandfather, but as adolescents are prone to do, she worried about the upset in her own life. Not only had she lost her companion and confidant, but she had also lost the chauffeur who took her to school and shopping and parties at a moment’s notice. That’s why she was so delighted when Kenny Lesser called her shortly after the shiva and invited her to the Spring Ball at his school. She had never even known, let alone dated, a college boy, one who not only drove but had his own car.
After the week of shiva, Lenore returned to work. Her colleagues greeted her with hugs and condolences. She was confident that Al would call her, but when a week went by without her hearing from him, she began to despair.
Her coworkers were more solicitous than usual. They brought her buttered rolls and coffee when she arrived at work. They picked up the phone on the first ring, only handing it off to Lenore when someone requested her, or if it was a matter specifically requiring her attention.
Ten business days after her return to the office, she finally heard from Al. The phone rang five times and no one else answered it.
“Accounting Office,” Lenore said as she finally picked up the phone on the fifth ring.
“Lenore, is that you? It’s Al.” Her hea
rt raced as she heard the ebullient voice on the other end of the phone.
Dammit, thought Lenore. She had been anticipating his call and had hoped someone else would answer. She imagined how he would think she was so valuable and professional to have someone else answering her phone for her. Why couldn’t she even catch one little break? And why had he waited a whole ten days to call? But the sound of his voice stirred her with excitement. At that moment, she yearned for Al to be back in her life, no matter what the cost.
They made plans to meet at the Silver Spoon Diner on Union Turnpike, a few blocks from the hospital. She glowed with feelings of pleasure and possibility. Al was back.
By the time Lenore actually met Al in person a week later, she was having second thoughts about him. She had swung back and forth so many times in her mind that she was losing sleep and developing headaches. The very thought of Al still excited her. She had to admit that she was still attracted to him on a visceral level. But what about the Al who had forsaken her when she was arrested? And, despite his financial success, he was a convicted felon.
Of course, she told herself, Joe McCarthy had been discredited, and many innocent people had also gotten swept up in the Red Scare of the 1950s. But if you believed J. Edgar Hoover, the head of the FBI, the communists were still a major threat to America. What’s more, Al had ended up in prison because he’d lied. She, on the other hand, had told the truth.
Yes, she had listened to her attorney and told the whole truth about her relationship with Al and with the Greenglasses. The lawyer had been right. Once she told the truth, the charges were dropped. The messy, ugly truth had set her free.
On the other hand, she had not told her daughter the truth about her parentage. She had deprived her, not only of a relationship with her father, but of the knowledge of her family history. Now that he was back in her life, Al might try to persuade her to tell Mindy that he was her father. How could she tell her the truth now? But then again, how could she not?
Although she didn’t have to be at work until nine o’clock, and she was meeting Al for lunch, she began applying her makeup with the skill of a runway model at 6:45 a.m. Then she doused her hands with Elizabeth Arden’s Eight-Hour Intensive Moisturizing Hand Cream, should Al take her hand. She sat and listened to the radio for a half hour in order to let the cream soak in.
She wiped off the residue and sprayed herself from head to toe with her signature Shalimar perfume. Then she freshened up her bouffant hairdo, courtesy of Cindy, her hairdresser. She had kindly kept the shop open the previous evening just to accommodate her.
Lenore gazed at herself in the full-length mirror from several angles. Not bad, she said to herself. Turning forty had been hard for her, and she was determined to look as young and fashionable as she possibly could.
At eight o’clock, she headed downstairs to the kitchen.
Jennie was seated at the kitchen table, having a cup of coffee.
“Well, good morning, Mrs. Kennedy. Don’t you look young and lovely?”
“Thanks. Do you really think I look like Jackie?”
“A dead ringer.”
“Mom, where’s Mindy?”
“Oh, you just missed her; she left for school about five minutes ago. Do you want something to eat, some coffee?”
“No thanks. I’m going to head over to work early. I’ll grab something there. Al asked me to meet him for lunch, and I’m not sure how long it will go.”
Jennie said nothing but gave her daughter a knowing smile. She had long thought that Lenore should have let Al tell her his side of the story. Lenore wasn’t getting any younger; she could do a lot worse.
The Silver Spoon wasn’t one of the old-fashioned greasy spoon diners located out of the way in a small town, but a spanking new spacious eatery with bright lights and upholstered booths with jukeboxes. Al was already waiting for her when she arrived at 11:45, right before the lunchtime crush. Impeccably coiffed and dressed, he looked a bit out of place standing beside the revolving glass dessert showcase.
Lenore was also overdressed for the diner. She wore her favorite red silk suit with pearls. Although she had a matching pillbox hat, she had decided to skip it. No one wore a hat to the Silver Spoon; it would have attracted too much attention, and besides, it might have messed up her hair.
Al and Lenore sat at a booth in the back, and the waitress brought them each a menu.
“This menu is the size of a phone book,” Al joked. “Do you know what you want?”
“I’ll just have some poached eggs, toast, and coffee,” said Lenore. She was really not hungry at all and didn’t want to eat anything that would upset her stomach.
“Breakfast for lunch, eh. You’re a cheap date. Well, I’ll have a turkey club and a Coke.” When the waitress appeared moments later, Al ordered for both of them.
As they waited for the food to come, Al began. He was painfully aware that Lenore had never given him a chance to explain. Her mother had turned him away, and Lenore had hung up when he called her. He was determined to finally tell his side of the story.
“You abandoned me,” Lenore said. “Did you know Jerry sent Lester, a first-year associate, who was wet behind the ears and couldn’t stop babbling about how concerned you were about your wife and your children?”
“Well, I was concerned about them. But I was also concerned about you and Mindy. I always have been, and I always will be. That’s why I tried to speak with you, but you wouldn’t let me. That’s why I never stopped sending Mindy gifts. What did Lester know? He was an inexperienced lawyer. He was just repeating what Jerry told him. Why did you put so much stock in what he said? You never gave me a chance to explain.”
“And what’s to explain?’ Lenore asked.
“I was fighting for my reputation and the welfare of my family. I told Jerry to take care of you. I didn’t edit what he told Lester or what Lester heard him say. I was distraught. I trusted Jerry to do the right thing by you. Do you really think I told him to stick you with an inexperienced lawyer?”
“Well, apparently you never thought to ask him how he was taking care of me.”
“Lenore, my whole world fell apart. The case and the time in prison led to the end of my marriage. And of course, my wife felt betrayed when she found out about you. It took me a long time to get back on my feet again. Thank God, my partner, Max, is a genius, and we had a winning product at the right time. But my personal life was in shambles for many years. My children wanted nothing to do with me for a long time.”
“And now?”
“Well, my son is at MIT getting a PhD in chemical engineering. My daughter got married last year, and she’s living in Philadelphia with her husband. The kids talk to me now, and I see them from time to time. I went to my daughter’s wedding, but my ex-wife refused to speak to me or to acknowledge my presence. She and her new husband walked my daughter down the aisle. That really hurt.”
On the one hand, Al was making a compelling case that he needed and wanted her. But Lenore couldn’t help thinking that was because he was now alone. She had to wonder what had engendered his wife’s extreme rage and need for revenge, where she wouldn’t even let him accompany his daughter down the aisle. She wanted desperately to believe Al. But she couldn’t help but think of the dictum, “There are three sides to every story—his side, her side, and the truth.” She would never know the truth.
“So, Lenore, I come to you alone. I am unencumbered, and I am a changed man. It was never the right time before, and I was afraid you would slam the door in my face. I admit I’ve made a lot of stupid mistakes, which I regret. I know I hurt you, but I need your forgiveness. I want you in my life. I want Mindy in my life. I’m prepared to shower you with a lifestyle that you’ve never imagined. I will take care of your mother. By the way, has Mindy started looking at colleges?”
“She’ll go to Queens College. She has the grades to get in, and it’s free. The kids in our neighborhood who could go to Ivy League schools go to Queens.”
&nb
sp; “And why is that?”
“Because their parents can’t afford it, and Queens is a great school.”
“I’m sure it’s a good school. But you don’t get the connections you can get in a really top school with cachet.”
Lenore was warring with herself. This sounded too good to be true. And it probably was. Al really had a lot of nerve to suddenly reappear after ten years and dangle a carrot in front of her like this. What’s to say he wouldn’t break her heart again if someone younger and more exciting walked into his line of vision?
“So, what do you say, Lenore? Let’s start by taking Mindy and Jennie to dinner.”
Al was no fool, Lenore thought. And his proposition was fraught with huge risks for her. He would charm and wine and dine her daughter and mother, and they would fall in love with him. But where would that leave her? In learning the truth about her father, Mindy would discover that her mother had perpetuated a colossal lie. Mindy was a teenager, angry and rebellious. Lenore had not been the most attentive mother. What if Mindy ended up hating her and loving Al?
“I really have to absorb all of this. I have to think about the ramifications. I’m not ready to make a decision now.”
“I understand fully,” said Al, as he took her baby soft hands in his own.
“You have a lot to consider. Take your time. But in the meantime, can just the two of us have dinner together soon? Surely, there’s no harm in that.”
“I guess that would be okay,” Lenore said, as he kissed her hand.
1962
BELLEROSE, NEW YORK
THERE WAS NO QUESTION THAT Faye and Izzy had performed a mitzvah when they initially provided a home, shelter, sustenance, and support to the refugee family right off the boat. But as Judy and Faye’s relationship developed over the succeeding years, it became a symbiotic one. Faye liked to brag to her neighbors and friends about how essential she was to the life of the younger family. By 1962, the truth was that she probably needed them more than they needed her, but that didn’t stop her from praising herself.