by Belva Plain
The door opened, and Lore, having been given a key, came in. Her cheek was painfully swollen.
“So you’re here, Joel. Have you started the lesson?”
He stood up. “Not today. I have to leave. I hope you’ll feel better, Lore.” At the door he turned back toward Caroline, saying, “Please think it over,” and went out.
She stared after him. “Can you imagine?” she cried to Lore. “He’s asked me to marry him. He must be out of his mind. If he isn’t out of his mind, he has more gall than any man alive. Who and what does he think I am?”
“I wouldn’t take it as an insult,” Lore said.
From the window, Caroline watched him go down the street. He was not much taller than she. He lodes bulky, she thought with distaste. Then abruptly, amusement followed. It was really silly of her to be angry because the thing was—it was ludicrous! Someone to belong to. And he actually thinks that I, that I—
“Is that what he wants you to think over?” asked Lore.
“Yes, of course. But what’s more important is you. Was it an abscess?”
“Two of them. He had to extract both teeth. Too far gone. I’ll have to go back again tomorrow. Then I’ll need crowns. He promised to have them ready in time for us to leave.” Lore sighed. “And I have other teeth in terrible shape. My whole mouth is wrecked. Money. Nothing but money. You see how far it doesn’t go? Already there’s a nice hole in our great wealth.” She sighed again. “I’ll go get some ice and a towel.”
“I’ll do it. Sit down.”
When she came back, Lore said anxiously, “Tell me everything he said.”
“It’s too fantastic, too stupid.”
“No, tell me.”
So she told. And at the end Lore made a comment. “It’s fantastic, all right, but I wouldn’t say it’s stupid of him.”
“What? You can’t be serious. You can’t think I would—”
“No, no, I’m not saying anything about you. I’m talking about him. He’s not a fool. His idea is not so far-fetched. These marriages of convenience are being made all the time—”
Caroline interrupted her. “Lore, I don’t believe you. Is that what you want for me? Is it?”
“You aren’t listening to me. Did I say I wanted it for you? I only said that they happen. Why, Annie was just telling me about a young woman, a doctor, who was in this country on a visitor’s visa last year when Austria was invaded. She would have been killed if she had gone home, so she married a doctor here and was able to stay.”
“That doesn’t apply to me. I’m not here on a visitor’s visa.”
“Good Lord, I know that, Caroline. I’m only talking. Forget it.”
She would have liked to forget it, and had intended to, when in the evening after Lore had gone to bed with her aching jaw, the Sandlers brought up the subject.
“I hear Joel came today,” Annie said.
“Yes, for a few minutes.”
And Caroline waited for what was bound to come next, for surely Joel had gone back and reported to Tessie. Some men were like that; Father called them “old women.”
In the evening, the Sandlers’ routine often went this way: Jake, who stood on his feet all day, might go to bed early, while Annie would have another cup of coffee and a cigarette at the kitchen table. Now, with a cup in one hand, she exhaled a thin stream of smoke and said hesitantly, “I always believe in being open. What is the use of hiding things? He likes you. In fact, he’s in awe of you, Caroline. Let’s admit, you’re a beautiful young woman.”
“Thank you, but I don’t feel beautiful.”
“Of course. You’re worried to death, and with good reason.”
“You said you believe in being open. He made a proposal that shocked me. Marriage! You’d think, the way he put it, that it was like buying something you see in a shop.”
“And you don’t like Joel.”
“Annie, I don’t even know him.”
“Stay with us here a few more weeks and get to know him better.”
“It’s so wonderful of you to have us here as long as this. Now we have to get out on our own. Anyway, Annie, I don’t want to know him better.”
“There are plenty of girls who would be happy to give him a chance. He’s a really decent young man.”
“I believe you, but I’m not interested in men. Not at all.”
It was true. Why should she trust any man again?
“Let’s drop the subject for now,” Annie said gently. “You’re very tired, and I am, too. And it’s ten o’clock.”
Caroline was wrought up. For too long had her worries been milling around in her head, and now this pointless conversation with Annie Sandler, the generous, well-meaning, meddlesome stranger, had aggravated her beyond endurance. She lay down with another long night of troubled sleep before her.
Now, in late September, the heat still held on to the city and filled the stuffy room. Lore, not wanting to trouble her, was only pretending to sleep; she moved gingerly and was in pain. They were both waiting for morning.
This time, Caroline went along to the dentist’s office, where she listened and translated for Lore.
“The doctor will take care of this problem. The X rays, however, show that there is another problem on the other side of your jaw. For this you will need oral surgery, and he is not an oral surgeon. It is nothing to be frightened of, he says, but you must not neglect it. As soon as we move—I explained to him that we are leaving the city—you must have it taken care of.”
Once more, the bills were drawn out of the wallet and an appointment made for two days hence. Once more, in the taxicab, Lore groaned.
“Money. You see how fast it disappears?”
Yes, she saw. And the thought of going back to that dismal flat only to repeat the same theme was just too much on this bright morning. She suggested a little walk in the park instead.
“You go. I need ice on my face. I have the key and I’ll let myself in,” Lore said.
The park, not much more than a sizable playground, was not far from the apartment. It was crowded with mothers and baby carriages. Children played in the sandboxes or rode their small three-wheelers. Sitting there watching them, it seemed unreal that in a few months—so few and so rapidly passing—a child like these would belong to her. Anger and fear beset her.
She thought again: What if she were to hate it when it came? She wasn’t ready for it, she had no place for it, no father for it that she would ever want it or anyone else to know about. Or about her disgrace.
A little boy dragging a pull toy stopped in front of her and stared. He evidently had some thoughts about her, or some curiosity. But what?
“Hello,” he said, and she answered, “Hello.” At his smile and his tiny white teeth, pity lumped in her throat. He knew nothing, nothing at all of why he was here in the sun, wearing his little blue jacket and cap. How could he know whether he had been wanted or not? Every child should be wanted.
What have I done? she thought.
Her mind went blank. The sun poured down, and she sat there on the bench in the strange city, feeling the wind as it moved through the trees and over her face.
After a while, someone asked her the time, and she had to look at her watch. It was half past two, the hour for the English lesson. She got up, hoping against hope that Joel would not have come.
But he had. They were both waiting for her, Lore holding an ice bag to her cheek, and Joel neat as always in shirt and tie.
“Lore is running a fever,” he reported. “You can feel it with your bare hand. Now that you’re here, I’ll go to the store for some medicine.”
“We should phone the doctor,” Caroline said.
“I know what to take. We don’t need a prescription.”
“Go in and lie down, anyway.”
“I guess I will.”
Lore had never been ill. She was always the strong one, a machine that didn’t break down, so the sight of her giving in to sickness was especially alarming. Caroline sto
od at the foot of the bed until Joel brought the medicine and Lore swallowed it, declaring that “Joel is as good a nurse as I am.” Then they went out and closed the door so that no noise would disturb her.
Yesterday’s resentments faded now in comparison with this new trouble. “I wish we were in a place of our own,” Caroline said. “If Lore has to get up at night, I’ll feel we’re disturbing these people. They’re doing so much for us as it is. They must be tired of us. It’s so uncomfortable, being in somebody else’s house.”
“I know what you mean. I feel the same way. That’s part of the reason I roam around the city, not to be underfoot in Tessie’s house. I’ve even done baby-sitting. Besides, I can earn a few dollars that way.”
“How can you when you can’t speak to the children?”
He grinned. “Infants only.” Then, taking his hat, he prepared to leave. “I’ll come back in the morning and see how she is. If you need anything, you can ask me. That way you won’t have to feel you’re imposing on your hosts.”
“I’ll do that,” she said, almost humbly. “And thank you, thank you so much.”
He understood her fears. They were both refugees, after all, on an equal footing, both insecure. And she stood in a kind of daze. In no consecutive order, her thoughts crisscrossed. Surgery. Equipment for the baby. You were admitted to this country on condition that you were not to become a public charge. So if you couldn’t earn enough to support yourself, you would have to ask for private charity. But that was no disgrace, no, not at all. It would kill me all the same, she thought. Rightly or wrongly, it would, and I can’t help it.
LORE was very sick. Annie, before she went to work, telephoned their doctor and asked him to come. You could see that Annie was disturbed for Lore’s sake, while at the same time you could understand that she was thinking of the disturbance to her household. One sick woman and one pregnant one were a lot more than she had bargained for.
Joel and the doctor arrived almost simultaneously. The doctor wrote out a prescription for the latest medication, called an antibiotic, and Joel was to get it at the drugstore. The cost astounded Caroline as she drew the green bills out of what she and Lore called their “bank.” The account was dwindling.…
“It doesn’t look as if you’ll be able to catch your train as you planned,” Joel remarked when the new week began.
“No, we’ll have to postpone it. This was a serious infection, and the doctor says she’ll need another week’s rest before we can travel.”
Lore was sitting up in bed by this time, and Joel had come by every day. He had run errands and sat with her while Caroline went out occasionally for air. Not once had there been any more personal talk between them, for which she was grateful.
But now he resumed it. “Annie thinks you should accept my offer, Caroline.”
She frowned, beginning to say, “What Annie thinks is really not—”
“I know you don’t care about me, but—”
“What do you mean? I do care about you. You’ve been a real friend, and even if you hadn’t done anything for us, I would still see what a good person you are.”
“Then why not take me for what I am? Can’t you see the advantage for all of us? I like a small town, which is where you’re going. I’ll find work. Lore won’t be able to do much after her operation and won’t earn much afterward for a while until she gets her license. As for you—”
“I know.”
“Well then, if we pool what we have, we’ll all be better off.”
“Joel, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You make it sound just too easy to be possible.”
“I’m not giving up, you know. I’ll try again.”
This business was a nuisance. Yet she could not very well show anger toward him. He had a right to try. She could not afford to be angry, either, at others who really had no right to try. Here in the Sandlers’ house, receiving their incredible charity, she had to listen with courtesy to their advice.
In the evening Jake said, “I haven’t spoken because Annie hasn’t wanted me to interfere. But I’m going to speak now. Listen, Caroline, your father isn’t here. I hope he will be soon, but in the meantime, you need to listen to a man. If I had a daughter and Joel Hirsch was interested in her, I would be glad. Glad. He’s the salt of the earth. And in your position, how many men would—well, I guess I don’t have to spell it out.”
“I know what you’re saying is true, but I don’t love him,” she said stoutly.
“All well and good, but love is a thing that grows. It’s like a plant. Romance is a luxury from the movies. You, especially, have to be practical, Caroline. I can picture your family. Can you picture how they’ll suffer, as if they haven’t already suffered enough, to see you, an unmarried mother whose child was the product of a Nazi’s rape? What will it do to them?”
If only they would let her alone with these dreadful predictions that, unfortunately, God help us, rang so true!
“You need protection right now, and your child will need it.”
“Lore will see me through that.”
Jake lowered his voice. “Now let’s be sensible. Lore can’t earn what a man can until she gets her license, and that’s a couple of years away. And Lore can’t be a father to your child. You need, and the child needs, the respect that comes with a ring on your finger.”
Imprisoned here, sitting across the room from this responsible man as old as her father, she was unable to contradict what he had said. She was beside herself.
Annie put in quietly, “A marriage of convenience means ‘in name only,’ and it’s done every day, as I’ve told you.”
“You were talking in there a long time tonight,” said Lore, who had been reading in bed.
“They really want me to marry Joel. Why are they so eager? It makes you wonder.”
“I’m sure they have no ulterior motives, if that’s what you’re thinking. They’re good people, and they believe they’re giving sound advice. Besides, it’s only human to play God. It makes people feel important. Useful. Wise.”
“Well, I’m not going to do it.”
“So be it,” Lore said.
A few days passed. Joel did not come back. Lore got out of bed, went for a walk, returned, and began to repack the clothes. “We have six days and then we’re off again.”
Once more they were rushing against the calendar. Last time, it was six days to the sailing. This time, it was six days to the train. And another bedroom in another strange house would be left behind.
“By the way, I ran into Joel’s Tessie on the street. I have an idea from something she let drop that you might be hearing from her, although I may be wrong.”
“Good Lord, I hope you are. I’ve heard more than enough. Much more.”
They were folding clothes when the bell rang. “If it’s that woman, don’t leave me alone with her,” Caroline said before opening the door.
They sat down in the front room, Tessie upright and stiff in the middle of the sofa, clasping her big black handbag.
“I’m going to come right to the point,” she began. “There’s no sense wasting time in talking about the weather. It’s about Joel. He’s in love with you, as you probably know.”
Caroline sighed. “I’m sorry to hear it, because I am not in love with him.”
“But you like him. You respect him.”
“That’s true.”
“I should hope so. He’s an honest, hardworking man from a respectable family, my husband’s family. No criminals, no beggars, no scandal, no disgrace.”
Disgrace. Some unnamed organ in Caroline’s body seemed to wince. She straightened her back and said very low, “I, too, come from a good family.”
“All the more reason that you should do the right thing for the baby you’re carrying.”
Caroline looked toward Lore, who was examining her fingernails. So she, too, was feeling the humiliation. She looked at the old woman, of whom Jake had said, “You have to get up early in the morning to fool her.” You coul
d believe that, when you looked carefully at the sharp, weathered face and the sharp, bright eyes. Jake had also said that she had a heart of gold.
“You’ve both suffered because of those maniacs in Europe. Joel understands the horror of what was done to you. Many men, perhaps even most men, would not.”
Tessie looked toward Lore. “You tell her. You’re older than she is, and in your work you’ve certainly seen much more of the world. Tell her.”
“She’s my sister. I’m too involved with her to think straight. I can only feel. And what I feel is that she must make her own decisions here.”
Caroline would have expected Lore to come down hard on her side. But instead, she had left the question hanging in the air, which only admitted the possibility of another answer.
“Well?” asked Tessie, turning back to Caroline.
“An arranged marriage—”
Tessie interrupted. “It’s been done for years, all over the world, from the royal families of Europe down to my own parents. They hardly knew each other. But they lived together afterward for forty-seven years, and let me tell you it was a good marriage, a lot better than many that you see around you today.”
The woman was pounding and pounding. Where has my strength gone, Caroline asked herself, that I do not stand up to her?
“You don’t have to sleep with him unless you want to. He’s ready to take you with that understanding. Oh, don’t be embarrassed. We’re all women here, old enough to know what we’re talking about, old enough to be pregnant.”
At this point, Lore did stand up. “Caroline’s heard enough, I think. All this—everything she’s gone through these past months has been very hard for her. Do you mind if we end this now?”
“Of course not.” The old woman, wrinkled, gnarled, and worldly, spoke with dignity. “Whatever you decide, I hope you will be happy, my dear. Only remember, Joel Hirsch is a good man and he loves you.”
The door closed. And to Caroline’s astonishment, Lore burst into tears.
“Lore! Don’t take this so hard. What’s the matter?”
