“I’ll come too,” Judith said. That way, she wouldn’t have to finish her soup.
“Mom, are you okay?” Judith asked as soon as they were in the oversized kitchen. “Shhh,” her mother hushed her. She turned to the maid. “Lucy, I think they’re ready for you to clear the soup bowls, if you don’t mind.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lucy said and hurried out to the dining room.
Rose turned back to Judith. “Stop making this so difficult, young lady,” she hissed.
Judith hadn’t known she was being difficult. She wasn’t the one who said the soup tasted like piss. In fact, she had been afraid to say almost anything at all. Aunt Faye and Uncle Stuart seemed like the kind of adults who thought children should be seen and not heard. She was just acting the way she thought she was supposed to.
“What did I do?” Judith asked.
“You laughed at the soup, you’ve been making faces since we arrived and you’ve barely spoken to your aunt!”
“I can’t think of anything to say!” Judith spoke a little too loudly.
“Lower your voice this instant!”
Judith was quiet. She bit her lower lip and tried not to cry.
“Mommy, I’m sorry. I didn’t know … I just miss being at home for Thanksgiving.”
“Stop carrying on!” Rose glared at Judith. “Poor, poor you, having Thanksgiving in a beautiful apartment with silver bowls and French china and a maid serving you like a princess instead of being back at home with your favorite aunt who makes the world’s best apple pie and can do no wrong! Maybe Aunt Helen isn’t so perfect! Did you ever think of that?”
Judith was in shock. Not even her father talked to her that way.
Lucy returned from the dining room holding a tray of nearly filled soup bowls and spoons. The maid walked into the kitchen tentatively, humming softly to herself. Judith wondered how much she had heard. As soon as Lucy set down the tray, Rose turned around and left the kitchen without saying another word.
Judith took a deep breath. Had she really behaved as badly as her mother said? Could her mother be jealous of the amount of time she had been spending with Aunt Helen? Judith had only been trying to be helpful, to keep the girls and Teddy out of her mother’s way. It was easier to go up to Aunt Helen’s than to keep everyone quiet all the time. And over the summer her mother had hardly gotten out of bed. What had Judith done wrong? What could she have done differently? She couldn’t think of anything.
Lucy was busy putting the carved turkey slices on a platter. Judith wiped her eyes and opened the oven to check on the sweet potatoes. The marshmallows were golden on top. It was time to take it out. If it burned, Dinah would have a fit. She borrowed the oven mitts she saw on the counter and slowly removed the casserole from the oven. “Would you like me to bring this into the dining room, Lucy?” she asked.
“If you’d like, miss,” Lucy said. “Just put it on the sideboard.” Judith did as she was told and then made several more trips from the kitchen, carrying out stuffing, vegetables and other side dishes with Lucy. Some of them didn’t look too bad. She was happy for the distraction and glad not to have to speak to anyone for a few minutes. Teddy was still fussing on Mort’s lap, and her mother was talking to Faye.
On the last trip from the kitchen, Judith carried a white china bowl filled with cranberry sauce. She gripped the bowl carefully but stumbled on one of the tassels of the Persian rug peeking out from under the dining room table. As she landed on her backside, half on the rug and half on the shiny wooden parquet, Aunt Faye gasped. The bowl of crimson sauce was overturned in her lap. Luckily, the bowl was intact.
Lucy rushed over and helped her to her feet. “Come, miss, let’s get you cleaned up,” she whispered. Judith turned to her mother for support, but Rose wouldn’t look at her. Teddy’s fussing turned into a full-on wail and Dinah started whining about the sweet potatoes. Mimi was trying to hide her laughter by covering her mouth with her napkin and Mort was glaring at all of them. Uncle Stuart rose to his feet and poured himself a large glass of scotch from the decanter on the bar cart. Aunt Faye called out to Lucy, “Make a note to call the carpet cleaner tomorrow,” she said. No one asked if Judith was hurt. No one told her not to worry about the spill. The maid was the only one who took note of her at all.
After she and Lucy did whatever they could to clean off her dress, Judith came back into the dining room. The others had started eating, but Teddy was still fussing.
“Aunt Faye, Uncle Stuart, I’m very sorry for the mess,” she said, in as clear a voice as she could manage. “Not to worry dear,” Aunt Faye told her. “The carpet cleaners will be in tomorrow.” Judith looked at Stuart, but he was busy eating his dinner. She walked purposefully over to the sideboard, made a plate of soft foods and put it down at her place. Then she took Teddy from her father’s lap. “I’ll hold him,” she said. Judith held Teddy tightly on her lap, feeding him spoonfuls of mashed potato and stuffing. He cooed appreciatively, and the room was finally quiet.
“What a helpful young lady you are,” Aunt Faye observed. And then, to Rose, “She’s very good with the baby.”
Judith looked up and saw tears in her mother’s eyes. Everyone else was busy eating and didn’t notice. I’m sorry, her mother mouthed. Judith gave a little nod to show that she understood.
By the time they got home, it was almost ten o’clock and everyone was exhausted. Judith carried a sleeping Teddy into the house and saw that Aunt Helen had left several covered plates of food for them on the table. Judith’s stomach started growling—she had barely eaten anything the whole day, and she was only just then aware of how hungry she was. There was turkey, stuffing and the same sweet potato casserole Rose had made for Aunt Faye. There was another plate too, just of desserts, and Judith figured there was probably some apple pie in there somewhere. More than anything, she wanted to take off her coat, sit down at the table and start eating the leftovers.
If her mother hadn’t spoken to her that way in Aunt Faye’s kitchen, she probably would have. Even though it was late and the cold food would have given her a stomachache, she would have done it. But now she knew better. When she examined her mother’s expression, she saw what she was expecting: the tightening of the jaw, the hint of a frown, the squinting of the eyes that was imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t looking for it. But Judith was looking for it this time, and she could tell Rose was furious that Helen had let herself in and dropped off the food.
If Judith sat down to eat, she knew how her mother would interpret it: even one forkful of pie would mean Judith had taken Helen’s side. Judith was too tired for further arguments, so she walked past the table and pretended not to see the heaping plates. She carried Teddy into his room, changed him into pajamas and put him in his crib. Then she went to her own room, put on a nightgown and got under the covers. As she lay awake, she was unable to shake the feeling that something more complicated than a simple fight over Thanksgiving was going on between her mother and her aunt. Judith wanted to know what it was, but she knew she couldn’t ask. I’m going to have to start paying more attention from now on, she decided. Her stomach was still growling and she was a long way off from sleep.
Chapter 22
MORT
“Do you have a few minutes?” Abe waited for Mort’s nod before entering. He came in and shut the office door behind him. After some fidgeting, he finally said what was on his mind. “Something’s wrong with Helen and Rose.”
Mort didn’t understand. “Rose is fine. Is Helen sick?”
“I don’t mean that. Something’s wrong with the two of them together. They’re at each other’s throats. You haven’t noticed?”
“No.”
“Geez.” Abe let out a breath. Mort turned back to his desk. He wanted to get back to work, but Abe wasn’t done with the conversation.
“Listen, Teddy and Natalie are gonna turn one in a couple of weeks and I think we should have a party for them.”
Mort put down his pencil. “Isn’t that so
mething Rose and Helen should work out?”
“That’s my point, Mort. If we leave it to them, it could turn into another fight. Like what happened at Thanksgiving. It’s gonna kill Helen if we don’t celebrate this together. You know how it is.”
Mort definitely did not know how it was. He had enjoyed Thanksgiving at Faye and Stuart’s apartment. It had been so much more civilized than their usual holidays with Abe’s family.
“What am I supposed to do about it, Abe?”
“Talk to Rose. You know, tell her you think it’d be nice to have a little party together. Whatever kind of party she wants.”
“Fine. I’ll talk to her when I get home.”
You would have thought Mort had just handed Abe a hundred-dollar bill—that’s how big the smile was on his brother’s face. It instantly made Mort wish he hadn’t agreed to it.
The truth was, Mort had noticed a difference in Rose since Teddy was born. He felt a change in her attitude that shifted something between them, a sense that she no longer cared as much about his approval. Since Rose had given him a son, Mort no longer felt justified in voicing any kind of criticism. What’s more, he was sure that Rose had detected this new weakness in his position.
The next morning, Mort decided to leave early to avoid Abe. He had put off talking to Rose and didn’t feel like explaining the delay to his brother. Mort was saying goodbye to the girls when two quick knocks at the door interrupted him. It was Abe, ten minutes earlier than usual. Mort’s plan of walking to work alone was ruined.
“Good morning!” Abe called into the kitchen.
“I’m ready to leave,” Mort grumbled. Abe held the door open for his brother to exit but snapped his fingers quickly, just before it clicked shut. Then he called out to Rose, who was pouring her second cup of coffee.
“I almost forgot! Rose, did Mort tell you the big news about Nat and Teddy’s birthday?”
Rose was suspicious. She put down the coffee and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “He didn’t mention anything.” Mort wanted to disappear.
“Ah, he wanted to surprise you, I guess. I haven’t told Helen yet either. But it’s too good. You’ve gotta hear this!”
“I’m sure,” Rose snapped. “What’s the surprise?”
Abe eased his way through the doorway and back into the kitchen, pulling Mort along with him. “You know Bob Sherman, our father’s old friend, the one who introduced us to the cereal guy?”
“I know who he is.”
“He called yesterday to see how everything was going. When I told him the babies were gonna turn one, he got all excited. Said his cousin was the manager of some fancy club on Ocean Avenue and he wanted to throw the kids a party there. We have the Blue Room at Club Elegante booked a week from Sunday at noon and Bob said he’s paying for the whole thing!”
“Club Elegante is a nightclub, Abe,” Rose said. “You want to have a first birthday party at a nightclub?”
“It’s not a nightclub during the day.” Abe grinned.
“What did Helen say?”
“Like I said, I haven’t told her yet. Mort wanted you to be the first to know!”
Rose looked from one brother to the other. Finally she uncrossed her arms and let them fall to her sides. “Fine. We’ll have it at the nightclub. I’ll invite my aunt Faye.”
“Terrific!” Abe practically shouted. “Invite whoever you want!”
When they were safely out in the hall, Mort grabbed Abe by the arm.
“What the hell did you do? I’m not paying for some party at a goddamn nightclub.”
“Calm down. Bob’s paying for it.”
“You mean that was true?” Mort couldn’t believe it.
“Of course it was true! Bob called me last night at home. I only said you knew because I wanted Rose to think we already decided it together. It’d be harder for her to say no that way.”
“I suppose. You handled that quite … skillfully.”
“I knew one of these days you’d appreciate my talents.” Abe winked at him. “I’ll see you in half an hour,” he said. “I’m going to tell Helen about the party.” He turned around and headed up the stairs, whistling as he climbed.
Mort stared after his brother and shook his head. Who would’ve thought Abe could have pulled that off so smoothly? Maybe he didn’t give him enough credit. Sometimes you can’t predict what a person is capable of, he thought. Sometimes you just can’t tell.
Chapter 23
HELEN
“This stupid room isn’t even blue,” Joe grumbled. “It’s gray.”
“It’s sort of a bluish gray,” George offered.
“It’s not called the Bluish-Gray Room, you idiot!”
“Boys!” Helen shushed them. “Stop it.” She tried to sound angry, but she wasn’t. The Blue Room at Club Elegante really was gray. She had said just as much to Abe when they first walked in. It was pretty in a gaudy sort of way, though. At least a hundred balloons—half pink, half blue—skimmed the top of the vaulted ceiling. Bob Sherman had gone all out.
Helen didn’t want to be upset today. She wanted to enjoy herself. But every time she took a step toward Rose, her sister-in-law moved in the opposite direction. She tried a few times to catch Rose’s eye, to share a smile or a laugh together like they used to, but Rose kept looking away. Helen wondered whether it had been a mistake to have the party here. Maybe Rose would have been friendlier if they had celebrated at home.
“Attention, please,” Mort called out. He tapped his spoon against his water glass. “May I please have everyone’s attention?” Helen was surprised. It wasn’t like Mort to make speeches.
“A year ago today the road outside this building was blocked with snowdrifts piled six feet high. Twenty-six inches of snow fell from the skies—the worst blizzard to hit New York since 1888.” Mort stopped to clear his throat. “Against all odds, my son was born that day, a healthy baby boy. Happy birthday to Teddy.” Mort drained his glass and sat back down.
An awkward silence filled the room until someone began to clap. There were so many things wrong with Mort’s speech that Helen couldn’t decide what aggravated her most. He didn’t even mention Natalie! Luckily, Abe stood up next.
“Well, my brother certainly is right about that day,” Abe began. “What a storm! And with us away, our poor wives had to deal with everything alone. So first, I think we should all raise a glass to them, to Helen and Rose, the two bravest women I know.”
“To Helen and Rose!” Bob Sherman shouted, and everyone repeated it. When the noise died down, Abe continued, “You know, when Helen told me she was pregnant again, with our fifth child, I was surprised. But imagine how surprised I was when Morty here told me Rose was pregnant too!” The crowd chuckled. “Anyway, it all worked out perfect, everybody happy and healthy. So I wanna say happy birthday to Natalie and to Teddy. Drink up!” Everyone clapped loudly this time, joining together in a chorus of “Happy Birthday to You.”
One of the waiters took the cue to wheel out the cake, decorated with yellow and white icing. Rose carried Teddy over to where Mort and Abe were standing, while Helen smoothed the front of Natalie’s dress. Someone lit the two candles on the cake, and the babies were held up for photos. Helen and Rose blew out the candles, and everyone clapped all over again.
The crowd broke up as the waiters rolled the cake cart into the kitchen for slicing. Helen couldn’t help herself from calling out to Rose as she was walking away, “What’d you wish for?” she asked.
“Hmm?” Rose’s back was to Helen and she pretended she hadn’t heard.
“What’d you wish for when you blew out the candle? I wished for fifty years more of celebrations like this, all of us together for the kids’ birthdays.”
Rose turned around. For the first time all day, she looked Helen straight in the eye. “I wished that night had never happened.”
Chapter 24
ABE
(August 1949)
Natalie loved steps. At twenty months old, all she
wanted to do was climb up and down the hallway steps that connected the floors of the two-family house. Mostly she liked going up. Going down was more difficult, so when she got to the top she’d look at Abe, lift her arms and shout, “UPPY!” at the top of her lungs. Abe would laugh, carry Natalie down to the bottom, then hold her tiny hand while she started climbing all over again. She never got tired of it. Neither did he.
Abe used to worry about what he would do with a little girl. When he tried to picture himself having a pretend tea party or dressing up baby dolls, he started to feel queasy. He didn’t think he would be good at it. But this? Walking up and down stairs? This he could do.
Helen got annoyed with him. “You’re spoiling her.”
“Spoiling her? Did I buy some silver spoons at Tiffany’s?” The kids were finally in bed and the two of them were talking in the kitchen, trying not to wake anyone up. Helen was drying the dishes from dinner and Abe was putting them away.
“That’s not the kind of spoiling I mean and you know it.”
“So I walk her up and down the stairs—so what?”
“So, you let her do it every morning! You indulge her! Do you know that after you leave for work in the morning, she stands by the front door and cries for you to come back and take her on the steps?”
“Yeah?” Abe was pleased. “What does she say?”
“‘Daddy! Uppy! Daddy! Uppy!’” Over and over.”
Abe chuckled. “She misses me, that’s all,” he said, with a smile as wide as his face.
Helen hit him on the head with the spatula she was drying. He grabbed it from her and gave her a swat on the backside.
“You think it’s funny, but it’s not. I don’t have time to walk Natalie up and down the stairs all day! I have to do the breakfast dishes, make the beds and clean the tornado the boys leave behind. Plus, whenever we go out she wants to climb every set of stairs she sees! I couldn’t get her off the drugstore steps the other day. She thinks it’s a game!”
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