After listening for awhile, he laughed, saying, “Do you always bubble over with such enthusiasm, when you talk about your work or is it me?”
She looked at him, pursing her lips, trying to hold back a smile, “I guess I got a little excited about the job.”
“Hey, I liked it; it’s good to be excited about your work,” he countered as they started to leave.
Walking to the door, Vic said hello to a few guys and stopped to introduce Darlene and Thelma to two girls sitting in a booth near the door.
The three of them walked to the Wayne’s apartment, with Vic along the curb and Darlene next to him. The girls waited outside while Vic went in to ask if he could use the car.
He returned in a few minutes, smiling and holding up the keys.
Darlene jumped in the front seat of Frank’s old Ford, now repainted a lively shade of blue and sporting deep maroon patterned seat covers. Vic held the door for Thelma to get in back.
“Why don’t you drop Thelma off first? She lives near Division and California, then I can keep you company back to my place in Logan Square,” Darlene suggested.
“Sounds good to me,” he answered, liking that he would be able to talk with Darlene without Thelma butting in.
They dropped Thelma at her apartment near the entrance to Humboldt Park and headed up Kedzie to Darlene’s building on Dickens. He double parked in front and before saying good night, asked her to go out with him the next night to try pizza pie, the new Italian specialty. She quickly agreed, especially when he told her the restaurant that served it was on Fullerton and Kedzie, not far from where she lived.
Dickens Avenue was a straight, narrow, quiet street lined with small mounds of dirty snow and puddles of slushy water, brought on by the surprising February warm spell. The Silverman’s lived in one of the two large apartment buildings in the middle of the block. Surrounding them were small frame bungalows with tiny lawns and patches of bare bushes in no particular design. Darlene turned and waved as he waited for her to get inside.
The next evening he picked her up about seven. Instead of buzzing him up to the third floor, she came down when he rang the bell. Pulling away from the curb, the words tumbled out as they started talking about their families and friends. Darlene laughed at the cute stories he told about his sisters and he got a kick out of the way she talked about living in Logan Square and being one of the few Jews among all the Polish kids in her class at Funston Grade School. By the time they arrived at the small pizza parlor, Vic already knew he was going to want to ask her out again.
The strong aroma of garlic greeted them as they opened the door and settled into a low-backed booth. A short, heavyset woman, wearing a long white apron spattered with stains of red sauce, introduced herself as Rosa, the owner’s wife. In a heavy Italian accent, she explained all the pizza toppings. They decided on a small pie, half cheese and half sausage, after being advised it was the most popular. Waddling away, the woman shouted out the order to a dark-haired cook, who they assumed was her husband, in a white tee shirt and messy apron, working near the window.
Across from them in one of the other wooden booths were two older couples who looked Italian. Vic and Darlene watched them pick up the large, triangular slices in their hands, taking a bite and washing it down with red wine or beer.
“I guess that’s how you eat it,” Darlene chuckled. .
“Darlene look,” Vic said, motioning with his head, “He’s making our pizza.”
They watched, fascinated, as the cook rolled and pounded the dough and flipped it into the air to make a large round flat crust. Ladling a tomato sauce on it, he spread it evenly and topped it with cheese and sausage before placing it on a large paddle and sliding the pie it into a wide black oven.
Fingering the empty Chianti wine bottle with a candle centerpiece, Darlene twisted as she looked around, commenting, “this place is so cute. I love the red and white checked tablecloths and napkins.”
“Did you see the pictures of Rome and the one of the old couple near the entrance? I bet that’s their relatives from Italy.” Vic smiled. “And how ‘bout these colored glass chandeliers that look like they came from the old country?”
“You think, they’re really from Italy? The wine colored glass mixed with gold and antique looking crystal sure looks like they came from there,” she said studying the fixture over their table.
“Nah, they probably got ‘em at the flea market on Maxwell Street, “he grinned.
“Oh, you’re so cynical, they’re beautiful and I like them and I like the small tiles on the floor too. It’s funny, you don’t even notice this place from the street but once you’re inside, it looks like I imagine it would look if we were at a small cafe in Italy.”
When the pizza arrived, Rosa expertly cut it, putting a slice in front of each of them. He gingerly picked up his, balancing it on both hands, and yelped as he burned his tongue on the first bite. Darlene laughed and blew on hers before carefully trying a small taste.
“Oh is this good, I love it,” she gushed. “No wonder people are talking about this so much.”
“I’ve only had it once before, a few weeks ago, and loved it too; that’s why I wanted to come back,” he said, pleased that she liked it.
For dessert, Rosa offered them spumoni or Italian Ice. He got the ice and she the spumoni.
“Oh you’ll love this,” she insisted, offering him a taste of hers.
Spooning it into his mouth she watched his reaction with a bright smile.
He liked that she had fed him with her own spoon; a gesture that surprised him.
Offering her a bite of his ice, he told her about his plans to go to Roosevelt College after graduation and the tie business he was starting.
“What kind of tie business?” she wanted to know, raising her eyebrows.
“You know, neck ties. I want to set up tie racks in dry cleaning stores and put ties in on consignment. I think it’s a good way to make money while I go to school.”
“Consignment?” she queried.
“You know, the storekeeper only pays for what he sells. If he doesn’t sell anything, I don’t make any money.”
“Oh, I Iike that. I bet you’ll do okay.”
She asked several more questions until he had explained almost everything about the business.
“You’re really interested?” he laughed, excited that she liked the idea.
Darlene nodded, placing her hands on the table as she tucked in her lower lip and looked into his eyes. Sensing she wanted to say something serious, he leaned back as she quietly told him about graduating from Roosevelt on a Friday at the end of January and going to work the following Monday.
“I really wanted to go to college, but there was no way my parents could afford to send me. I thought about going to junior college in the city, but even then, I don’t think my folks could afford to support me any longer.”
He nodded, “Yeah, I can understand that,” he murmured, thinking about how he was working to pay for school.
They pulled onto Dickens Avenue around nine-thirty and parked down the block from her building so they could continue talking. Two hours later, Darlene glanced at her watch and put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my God, it’s late! My mom is gonna be worried.”
He walked her to the door and as they entered the hallway, he pulled her close and said, “You know something? I think I’m going to marry you,” followed with a soft kiss of her lips.
Looking at him in the dark, she smiled and answered, “That’s some line, especially from a seventeen-year-old guy on a first date.”
Reaching up she kissed his cheek, cocking her head coyly to the side and murmured, “you’re a little crazy, but I think I might hold you to that promise.”
Starting to run up the stairs, she stopped, turned and said, “Good night, Victor, I
had a really good time,” and then raced up the steps. He waited until her heard the third floor door close.
In the morning, he called her at work and they made arrangements to get together in the evening.
When he rang the bell that night, she invited him up. Climbing to the third floor, he dodged a few kids on the stairs. Darlene greeted him at the door.
“C’mon in, I want you to meet my mother.”
Entering the small hall with the parlor holding only a patterned couch, a matching easy chair and a new sixteen inch television off to one side and a darkened bedroom on the other, he followed her toward the kitchen. The dining room at the end of the hall was crowded. The table and chairs were off center to accommodate the studio couch along the wall opposite the windows. Mrs. Silverman met them at the entrance of the brightly lit room. A small woman with light brown hair, she had on a full apron over a dark dress. Smiling brightly, she used her forefinger to push her glasses up to the bridge of her nose.
“Excuse the way I look, I’m in the middle of baking some cookies, “she explained.
Returning her smile, he said, “They smell wonderful.”
“This is Victor Wayne, Mama.” Darlene smiled,
Vic nodded, while helping Darlene with her coat.
Retreating to the kitchen, Mrs. Silverman returned quickly with a plate of cookies still warm from the oven.
“Here, Victor, try this,” she offered, holding the plate out.
Darlene took two, splitting one, handing half to Vic and biting into the other half.
“You’ll love these; no one makes peanut butter cookies like my mother.”
You’re right, these are really good. Thanks Mrs. Silverman,” he said, smiling as he chewed.
Darlene wrapped the other cookie in a napkin and handed it to him. “For later,” she grinned and turned toward the door.
“Good night Mama,” Darlene said.
“Not too late, Darlene, you gotta’ work tomorrow. Nice meeting you, Victor,” she called out as they closed the door.
Descending the stairs they encountered a noisy group of kids bunched on the steps going to the vestibule. Vic stopped as the kids made a path for them to navigate.
“Hope you don’t mind if Darlene and I go out tonight,” he joked as Darlene giggled and introduced him.
All agreed it was okay. One of the bigger boys smirked, saying, “Have a good time.”
A little girl about eight, with long curly brown hair and big dark eyes, tugged at Darlene’s sleeve. “Is he your new boyfriend?” she wanted to know.
Darlene smiled. “Maybe, I’ll let you know later.” The kids giggled; a few got up and walked outside to see them get into the car.
As they pulled away, most of them waved. One of the boys shouted, “See you later, Vic.”
For the next two weeks they were together almost every night. Vic had never known a girl that got to him the way she did. She was beautiful and bright and her life was so much more interesting than the girls he knew from school.
“I’m working on the election this year, mailing out literature and making sure everyone in our precinct votes, “ Darlene volunteered one night over a grilled cheese sandwich at the Terminal Restaurant, “The Democratic Precinct Captain, Mr. Katz needed help and when my folks turned him down, I said I would step in. It’s great fun. I sure hope Truman wins. Mr. Katz wants me to promise I’ll stay in the organization and help him. I think being in politics is something everybody should be interested in. I love it.” She grinned as he laughed at her obvious enthusiasm.
“But let’s talk about you,” she said. “How do you feel about being Jewish?”
“I’m not religious and hardly ever go to temple, but I love our traditions and think it is important that we survive.”
“And what do you think about a Jewish State?”
Vic set down his fork and leaned across the table. “I’ve never been prouder of being a Jew now that it looks like Jews are going to have a real homeland in Palestine. The war and Hitler frightened me. Even though I was young, I would hear my folks and all the other grown-ups talking about the concentration camps and Jews that were being exterminated. It was scary.
“And then, later, when my brother Frank came home from the Army, he told me how he saw what had happened in Germany and the horrors of the camps. I know what it means when Jews say, never again.”
Darlene nodded. “What about kids? How will you raise them? I know I want mine to learn about being Jewish and to be Bar Mitzvah’d.”
“I agree. That’s another thing I like about being a Jew in America. Every one of us can decide what kind of Jew we want to be. We can be orthodox, conservative or reform. Or we can just acknowledge our heritage and follow all the laws and traditions in our own way. The important thing is that we can’t let anyone do what they did in the war to us, or anyone, ever again.”
“I think I want to be a little more religious than my folks, and learn more about our history and maybe learn all the prayers and observances that are important,” Darlene added softly.
They talked for over an hour about the importance of being Jews. Darlene couldn’t believe how serious it had become. Never had she talked to anyone this way. She found herself loving everything about him; he was smart and serious about the future, believed passionately in things that she believed were important, and being with him made her happy. The fact that every one of her girl friends who knew that she was seeing him quickly mentioned how good looking he was didn’t hurt either. She did wonder though, about his reputation, she’d heard he dated a lot of girls but never got serious.
Later, as they were walking to the door of Darlene’s building, Vic leaned to kiss her and asked, “What do you think we should do tomorrow?”
At that instant, the door opened behind them and Darlene pulled back, her hand covering her mouth as she shrieked, “Jack, what are you doing here?”
Vic turned around to see a thin man with a ragged crew cut holding open the door. “What do think I’m doing? So this is why you’re so busy,” he hissed grabbing her arm.
Vic reached in, pushing the man’s arm away and Darlene got between them, holding him back.
“Get the hell outta here,” the man growled. Vic’s fists clenched and he moved toward him.
Holding up her hands to Vic, Darlene pleaded, “Please Victor, wait outside and let me handle this. But promise me you’ll wait.”
She pushed him gently outside and turned into the hallway.
Vic looked at the two of them through the glass pained door and heard them talking back near the stairs, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. The man started to shout and Vic opened the door,
“Stay out, Victor,” she cried, waving him back. “Please wait, I’ve got to do this.”
He heard Darlene raise her voice and the man pleading. They now were on opposite sides of the small vestibule. For several minutes, he watched and heard muffled sounds. The man kept trying to come closer, but Darlene avoided him. He turned and sagged in a far corner and all was quiet. He saw Darlene wait and then go to him and put her arms around him, hugging his back. Finally, Jack slipped out of her embrace and walked out past Vic without looking his way. At the sidewalk, he turned back slowly, spitting out his words.
“Fuck you, you son of a bitch.”
Vic found her standing in the corner, with tears running down her face. He approached cautiously, taking her arms, not saying anything.
“I don’t think you will want to see me tomorrow,” she said, sniffling and looking down.
He pulled back, hurt. “Why?” he asked.
She held onto his arms as she looked directly into his eyes. Then after a moment, she replied softly, “That was Jack. We were going to get engaged soon.”
Before he could speak, she said, “Victor, I know
I should have said something, but I was so overwhelmed by you and by us. I couldn’t believe you could like me.”
Waiting for a reaction from him, which didn’t come, she went on, “Jack and I have been going together for over two years and he wants to marry me. I love him but wasn’t sure I was ready to marry him. Then you came along and everything got crazy.”
“I had heard about you and how you dated so many girls and I was frightened that you would drop me. Now, because of us, I know I can’t marry Jack. I feel very guilty and can’t keep lying to him. Or you.”
She stopped for a moment and with a shy, hesitant grimace, continued. “Even my mother has told me that I have to be fair to him and I know she’s right. I’m sorry, Victor; I didn’t want to lie to you either, but these last two weeks have been the happiest and most exciting of my life. I think I love you.”
Without thinking, he put one arm around her, lifting her chin with his other hand, “Look Darlene, I don’t know yet if I love you, but being with you has been great. You are everything I think I could ever want in a girl. I’m only seventeen, and you’re right, I’ve known a lot of girls, but I’ve never felt like this.”
Then, looking directly into her eyes and cracking a smile, he said, “So what are we doing tomorrow? I think we have some unfinished business, lady. I couldn’t let someone with as cute a behind as you get away.”
Darlene squeezed him tight, then kissed him lightly on the lips and started to run up the stairs. But before reaching the first landing, she turned around and came back down, whispering ever so softly, “Victor Wayne, I really do love you. Let’s do something special tomorrow. Will you come to dinner I want my father to meet you. All of a sudden, I feel wonderful.”
Chapter 10
Howie Rabin and Alice Friedman, were at the front of a short line waiting for a table at the Town Pump. They had just seen the movie, “Gentleman’s Agreement” at the Granada.
The hostess, her back to them, wiped perspiration from her forehead, exposing under arm stains on her silky white blouse. Using a menu, she pointed to a busboy cleaning the third booth along the wall on the right and two couples who were working their way to the front from a booth in the rear of the long narrow restaurant. “That booth they’re coming from is yours,” she said, turning to them and adding, “it’ll only be a minute.”
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