Come Pour the Wine

by Cynthia Freeman

  When Julius and Amanda Kahn’s daughter Evelyn was seventeen, she met and married Samuel Blum, whose family was three generations removed from Germany. David Blum was their only child, and he and his wife Louise were the parents of Allan and his two older brothers, Lawrence and Philip. Louise and David Blum gave their sons not only material wealth, but imbued them with pride and respect for an ancient heritage. For David Blum and his wife, Judaism was a code of ethics that a man applied to his daily life, not only on the Day of Atonement; it was a living, ongoing covenant between man and God.

  It was not until Allan joined the army that he seemed to forget some of his earlier training, and it was a particularly sad moment for his parents when he told them that he was marrying outside the faith. Out of his love for them he did, he admitted, regret that Joyce Porter was not Jewish, but reminded them one didn’t always have a choice in the matter of love and he prayed—literally—that they would accept her. In the end, out of their love for him, they gave their blessing.

  Unfortunately, there was more than one time during his marriage that he had occasion to recall his mother saying, “Your father and I don’t want to play God or sound all-knowing, but the beliefs of two people do tend to make a far stronger bond … there are no promises that marriage will be perfect, even with people of the same faith, but at least the chances for understanding are greater….” The words had especially come back to him during his last confrontation with Joyce. Indeed, the sounds of her attack … “I’m through with you, you damned, despicable Jew …” still were an ugly resonance in his head. That part of the “romantic” saga he omitted. It didn’t fit. And it was hardly what Janet wanted to hear … or he to tell her … If their friendship grew and a good reason for it came up, he might tell her. Perhaps … another time. He had to smile to himself. A male Scarlett O’Hara … he’d do it “tomorrow.”

  “Well, that about sums up four generations of Blums,” he finished crisply.

  Looking at Allan sitting across from her, Janet thought of Yankel Stevensky and the four generations that had come from him. He too had left something of his stamp on her. She felt it, especially at this moment … “That’s quite a story, Allan. May I tell you something that’s strangely parallel in our lives?”

  “Please do.”

  “Well, my antecedents weren’t as elegant or romantic as yours. Hardly. But my great-grandfather was Jewish—”

  “Were you brought up in the faith?”

  “No, my parents were Protestants. But my father, like me, as I discover more and more, has an inbred sense of Jewishness, rather than Judaism. I’m sorry to say I know so little about it, and that I never knew the religious part, but I have a strange sort of pride in the fact that that wonderful Jewish heritage is a part of me. You know … the greatest warmth and generosity I think I ever had—especially when I most needed them—was from a lady I’ll never forget … Her name was Fayge Kowalski. That lady taught me something about goodness that I hope I never forget….”

  The rest of the trip was pleasantly, but not romantically, spent with Allan. He’d been very good for her, but she’d established from the beginning that there was to be a distance, and he respected her feelings … much as he regretted the constraint.

  The last night they strolled once again around the deck, then stood at the rail looking out at the midnight-blue sea.

  He put his arm around her, which she allowed, but she drew back when he leaned over to kiss her. “Allan, you’ve been terribly nice, you’re a wonderful person and I’m truly grateful for your company … but you know, I didn’t come aboard for a single lady’s fun and games. I hope I made that clear in the beginning, but, please, don’t take offense … you’ve been so …”

  “Gentlemanly?”

  “Yes, and as I said, I’m grateful—”

  “Well, I’ll accept that, but you should also know that I had every bad—or good, depending on one’s point of view—intention in the world of trying to go to bed with you. Truth to tell, I thought about it the first time I saw you. I’d still like it… I’m not, I hope you agree, exactly Jack the Ripper. And further truth to tell, it hasn’t been exactly easy being this close to someone you like for two whole weeks and … well, tomorrow it’s homeward bound and I’d hate to think this is going to be the end of it, of us …”

  “Allan, as you well know, nothing in my life has been resolved … obviously I can’t become involved … I mean …”

  “You mean you still hope some miracle will happen and your husband will have a change of heart and want to come home.”

  “I guess I’d be less than honest if I said differently.”

  “Don’t hitch your hopes to that, Janet. It can only lead to more disappointment.”

  “Maybe … but one thing I know, this trip hasn’t been wasted. I’ve had a lot of time to think and I’m going to see if we can’t salvage something. I find it impossible to believe, when two people had as much as we did, that it can be over just like that—”

  “And your pride?”

  “Pride? You can’t spend your old age with pride. I’m going to try, Allan.”

  “So … then this is good-by for us?”

  “I think so. But I’ll always remember how kind you were.”

  “Well, that wasn’t what I had in mind. But if you ever want to be in touch, let me know. Chicago isn’t very far away, and then, of course, I’m in New York a lot. Hold that thought, if you can …”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  KIT WAS AT KENNEDY Airport to meet Janet’s flight back from Florida. She was shocked—and pleased—when she saw the change in Janet, but she said nothing until they were in the car on the drive back to Westchester.

  “Okay, Janet, I can’t stand the suspense. What happened to you?”

  “Why?”

  “Well, my God. I mean you were walking a pretty thin line the last time I saw you, and now you seem almost … content. Did anything happen?”

  “A lot of things. Mostly in my head.”

  “Oh? Such as?”

  “Making a stab at getting Bill back.”

  Kit paused. That wasn’t what she’d been hoping for. “Well, Columbus took a chance and found America. Too bad the queen almost cut off his head. If it doesn’t work out you could get hurt bad, Janet.”

  “I already am, so what have I got to lose?”

  “Not much, when you put it that way. Anything else interesting happen aboard?”

  “Well … I met a man. Very nice. But that’s as far as it went. How he ever put up with me, God only knows. I was bitchy as all get out in the beginning … Now tell me about the children.”

  “Nicole is very sad and Jason’s very mad … Not to change the subject, what about this man?”

  Janet shrugged. “What’s there to tell?”

  “You tell me. Did he try?”

  “Yes.”

  “That must have charged your batteries a little.”

  “That wasn’t why I took the trip—”

  “But still it helps to restore a lady’s morale.”

  “I guess, but in my case it didn’t work. You know something, Kit, you can’t run away. In fact, it’s depressing when you look around and see nothing but lonesome women all literally in the same boat, all trying to prove they’re still marketable. I wonder how many tears were spilled at night in those luxurious staterooms? How did they feel when the blonde wigs and the false eyelashes came off and they took a good look at themselves? It’s no fun to have to start all over again … I wonder where I begin—”

  “It gets easier after the first fallout.”

  “Maybe, but right now I’m going to concentrate on how to get my marriage back together.”

  “Mazel tov.”

  Kit drove into Janet’s driveway and helped her out with the luggage.

  Janet’s heart suddenly began to pound as she opened the door. Bill wouldn’t be home. Not tonight, and maybe never. The thought made her shiver. She wasn’t prepared for the shock of coming
back to an empty home, to the memories. She’d thought she was past that. Presumptuous thought …

  The two women stood in awkward silence in the foyer.

  “Well, I’m home … Kit, how can I thank you … ?”

  “Big deal.”

  She put her arms around her friend. “You’ve bailed me out of so many things, but seeing me through this is something I’ll never forget—”

  “You’re going to make it, baby. Now I’ve got to run. Talk later.”

  Janet took the suitcases to her room, and was just starting to unpack when she heard Nicole’s car in the driveway. She hurried to the front door and opened it, tears starting to her eyes when she saw her daughter. “Nicole, darling, oh, God, I missed you—”

  They weren’t sure whose tears were whose as they embraced. Then, arm in arm, they walked into the house.

  As they sat on the sofa, neither knew what to say, how to begin.

  “I loved the postcards and letters …” Nicole finally said.

  “I’m glad.”

  “Did you have a good time?”

  “I missed you and Jason very much. In fact when we got to Nassau I wanted to fly back, but then I thought, no … I needed the discipline of realizing I was going to be alone. It was a test, I suppose, to see if I could make it—”

  “You did, mama … you survived.”

  “Hmm … well, I get a gold star for that. Now tell me about you.”

  Nicole hesitated. “I spent a couple of weekends with dad.” She watched for her mother’s reaction. Nothing.

  “How is he?”

  “Not very happy, mom. I think he has a lot of regrets …”

  “Did he say so?”

  “No … he didn’t have to. The tone of his voice, the look in his eye. The way he kissed me when he said good-by.”

  “Well, I’m sure he misses you.”

  “I think he misses us all. Incidentally, he took an apartment. I was surprised when I saw it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it was furnished—and not too attractively either. I think he misses not having anything that belongs to him.”

  “Really? Well, no one exactly forced him to leave.”

  “I know, mom, but I can’t help it … I just feel so sorry for him. It’s as though he doesn’t care—”

  “That’s strange. I’m a little surprised he’s unhappy now that he got rid of his responsibilities. And I assumed he’d like living in an apartment. The way he used to …”

  “No, he couldn’t wait to get out. I don’t know, mom. Honest, he really seems sort of … well, lost.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “You’re not angry about my seeing him, are you?”

  Janet saw the uncertainty in her daughter’s face and suddenly felt guilty for adding to the conflicts she must already be feeling. Her voice was softer, contrite, as she said, “No, darling. He’s your father and it’s right and natural that you should love him. I’m sorry for the things I said about him the night he left. I was a little out of my mind, I guess.”

  “That’s understandable. I mean when a husband suddenly springs it on his wife that he wants a divorce, you can’t expect to be cool and calm about it.”

  “Still, I attacked him in front of his own children, and that was wrong. Hindsight is always … but I wish I had handled it better.”

  “Nobody’s perfect, mom, especially not in a situation like that. It’s been tough for all of us, dad included.”

  Janet was tempted to tell Nicole about trying a reconciliation, but thought better of it. What if it failed … ? “Your father and I will try to act like mature people. We have you and Jason to—”

  “Oh, thank you, mother, that’s one thing dad was worried about. I mean, how you two would be about Jay and me—”

  “Well, he needn’t have.”

  Jason had been at the Weisses when Kit came back from the airport, and went home immediately to see his mother. He had never missed her as much as in the last weeks.

  He let himself into the house and went to her room, swooped her up in his arms and held her off the ground. He looked so much like Bill that for a moment she did a double-take.

  “Hey, you look great, mom … In fact, you’re the best looking girl I ever did see … did you have a good time?”

  “Not so bad …”

  “Thanks for the watch … Incidentally, I made first string. Hey, I’m really glad you’re home, mom …”

  “Me too, and I don’t intend to leave for a long time.”

  “Great. Now how about some chow?”

  “I don’t know what we have in the house except frozen food. Let’s go out to dinner.”

  “No, I want to have dinner at home. Scrambled eggs, anything.”

  Janet went to the kitchen, looked through the freezer and found chicken crepes, cannelloni, pizza, spaghetti and meatballs.

  Jason came in and sat at the table, watching her. His mother was beautiful. How could his father possibly have left her? He must have been crazy …

  When she turned and saw him, she noted the set of his jaw, and decided it was better not to bring Bill up. It was different with Nicole, who spoke about her father almost as much as Jason seemed to want to avoid such discussions. It was as though Bill didn’t exist for him. He was very angry with his father, very protective of his mother, and … in the ways of the young … sternly unforgiving.

  Attempting to keep the tone light, she said, “Decisions … now, we have—”

  “How about cheese omelets with green chiles.”

  “Sounds good. By the way, I didn’t congratulate you on making first string. I think it’s great.” And then, while beating the eggs, she asked, “Anything else happen while I was away?”

  “Not much … I gave my car back to what’s his name.”

  “You mean your father.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “Jason, it doesn’t solve anything to be so bitter.”

  “Really? You mean you’re not? And you can forgive him for what he did?”

  “In a way, yes.”

  “That wasn’t the impression I got when you left.”

  “Well, I’ve had time to think about a lot of things and I realize your father’s going through sort of a special time in his life … trying to get back his youth—”

  “That’s very nice, but I’m his son, not his father, and as far as I’m concerned if I never see him again it will be too soon.”

  “Jason, please don’t say that.”

  “Why? It’s true. You know, mom, I could forgive him if he was a drunk or a gambler … they’re sicknesses … but to just walk away from us when we need him most, for no reason … well, it’s something I’ll never understand … He never loved us, he couldn’t have—”

  “That’s not true, Jason. Take my word for it, your father does love us. He’s just terribly confused about himself—”

  “Well, I don’t know too much about psychiatry.”

  “You don’t have to be a psychiatrist to have feelings and a little understanding. What was his reaction when you returned the car?”

  “I don’t know because I wouldn’t talk to him.”

  “That must have hurt him—”

  “Hurt him! He didn’t worry too much about hurting us.”

  “You did it to punish him—”

  “You bet. I don’t want anything from him. I bought a motorcycle with the money grandpa sent me for Christmas. And I’m not going to M.I.T. I’m still going to be an engineer, but not with a degree from his damned alma mater and for sure it’s not going to be McNeil & Son …”

  Janet poured the eggs into the omelet pan, thinking Jason’s wounds might well be the hardest to heal. He felt so abandoned by Bill, he’d thought of him as an idol who could do no wrong in spite of the usual adolescent tensions between father and son. Now he found his father was just a mortal man with all the human frailties and he couldn’t accept that. There was still another side of the coin. Now that Bill had l
eft, Jason was assuming the posture of the man of the family and felt he was protecting his mother. His father had left her and he couldn’t and wouldn’t forgive that. No, sir…

  “Darling, go call Nicole. The omelets are ready.”

  That night Janet took out the albums which had accumulated through the years. They represented, in their fashion, the sum total of her life, the happy times, those special moments, almost twenty years there in those albums. Yes, indeed. Those years were too precious not to try to salvage. For her children, and not least for herself.

  At eleven o’clock the next morning Janet called Bill at the office.

  “Janet?” He sounded shaky, but no more so than she felt.

  “Yes.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I just got home and I thought we should talk.”

  He wiped the perspiration from his forehead with his handkerchief. “My God, you scared me. I thought something had happened.”

  Something did happen … “Are you busy for lunch?”

  “No.”

  “Would it be convenient if we met?”

  After all those years … would it be convenient, she was asking.

  “Sure, I’d like that. Where?”

  Like old times. “Maxwell’s Plum?”

  “Wonderful.”

  “Twelve okay?”

  Is it okay to leave you, Janet, would you object? “Twelve would be fine.”

  They sat opposite each other in the dimly lit room, remembering other times. The conversation was guarded, stilted. Bill thinking Janet hadn’t changed much through the years. In fact, maturity had added to her beauty. So if he was this much in love, what had pulled them apart? A good question … He sure as hell didn’t know, and that was the only thing he was sure of. How could you still love someone but not want to live with them? He felt owned … and yet Janet had never made those kinds of demands. She expected him to be faithful, sure … but all women wanted that, never mind what the modern ones claimed, and the truth was he’d never thought of being anything but a faithful husband. Maybe he should see a psychiatrist. And if he did, what would he learn? You had a mother who suffocated you and you never got over it. He really didn’t much like himself, but how did he fight down these feelings of wanting so badly to be his own person, not to be beholden … ?