Albany Park

by Myles (Mickey) Golde

  Frank took a sip of water, hesitating, trying to gather his thoughts before speaking. His jaw tightened as he leaned in, “look Vic, I’ve got an idea that I want to talk to you about for something we can do to work together and make some money.”

  Vic looked up, answering with a short, “Oh,” waiting to hear more.

  Frank, sounding more confidential, went on. “You know I’ve been doin’ pretty good the last couple of years selling equipment and supplies to construction companies and I think it’s something that has a real future. In fact, I’ve reached the point where I’m ready to go out on my own, but to tell ya’ the truth, I’m scared. I need someone to work with.”

  Pausing, Frank waited to see his brother’s reaction to what he was saying, before he continued. Vic only nodded slowly, but listened attentively.

  “Look Vic, I need someone I can trust who is smart and not afraid to work hard. I’ve met a few guys that I thought might work out, but just don’t feel comfortable with them. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I think you and me can make this work.”

  Frank, warming to his pitch started to relax as he spoke. Vic said nothing, but watched him carefully, not wanting to interrupt as he was talking so intently and sincerely, as one man to another; and not treating him like his kid brother.

  Two tables away a dark haired waitress dropped a bowl of soup to loud laughter and applause, as she squealed, “Oh shit.”

  “Okay guys,” Gladys said, grinning as she watched the distraught girl and balanced two heavy dishes on one arm and another in her other hand. “How bout refills on the drinks?” she said placing their food on the table and smiling at Frank.

  “Damn Gladys,” Frank looked up smiling, “you really look good. I gotta come around more often.”

  “Ha,” she laughed, “Still the same old Frankie, always trying to score.”

  Hearing her name called out from behind her, she mouthed Frank a kiss, “I’ll be back with the drinks,” and hustled away.

  Chuckling, Frank turned back to Vic. “Sorry, but I gotta give her a little shtick or her feelings will be hurt.”

  Vic grinned. Frank picked up where he left off.

  “Look, you went to college and got a master’s degree while working almost full time to make ends meet when you and Darlene were struggling. I never went past high school and I need somebody with brains and ambition. Vic we can make a great team. You know I’m a good salesman and with your smarts, we can make it work. What do ya think? Are ya interested?”

  Surprised with his older brother’s proposition, Vic didn’t respond for a minute while it sank in.

  They were distracted by a broad shouldered busboy with a mop pushing a pail on wheels toward the spill.

  Hesitating as they watched the boy, Vic wiped his mouth with a napkin and then answered.

  “Well, I don’t know what to say, Frank. You know I’m not really set with anything so special right now and I’ve been doing some looking. Repping for a shirt company is okay and I’m making a living, but it will be a long time before I can really make any real dough. And with Darlene and the kid, I can’t take too many chances because we don’t have any money in the bank, or anyone to fall back on.” Halting, he took a long sip of his coke. “Just exactly what do you have in mind?”

  Frank reached into his breast pocket, pulling out some papers.

  “Look Vic, this is my tax return from last year. I made over twenty grand and this year, I should do better. Construction guys need guys like me to help them get their jobs done. I know you can do it too. Look, you can be a salesman and I’ll pay you a draw of a hundred and twenty five a week plus expenses against commissions. I know it isn’t much but you’ll make it. Within a few months your commissions will start coming in. Once we get you going we can think about building a real business. “

  A vein popped out on Vic’s forehead and he took his time asking a few questions. Frank responded quickly, stressing the growth of the building industry. The conversation continued while they picked away at their sandwiches and cokes, until Vic finally said, “let me think about it and get back to you. Just give me a few days, okay.”

  “Sure, I understand. Just promise me you’ll think hard.”

  Vic replied with a short nod.

  Grabbing the check and dropping a buck on the table, Frank got up, looking at his watch, “hey I gotta run, I’m late for an appointment.” Shaking hands he said, “Look Vic, I feel good about this and want you to know I’ve given it a lot of thought. I know we can do good.”

  Starting to get up Vic saw her coming toward him.

  The same dark blonde hair only now straighter and short curling in under the chin, the sad light blue eyes, with small wrinkles at the corners and a shy smile, knowing it was him after all these years. Still no makeup, except for some dark shading around her eyes, she stopped as she came close.

  His eyes riveted on her, “Mitzi, oh Mitzi, how are you?”

  “Hello Victor. I couldn’t believe my eyes, when I saw you.”

  “It’s been a long, long time. How’s Shayna?”

  “She is wonderful, almost all grown up. And what about you, I see you are all grown up too.”

  “You look the same except, more uh, I don’t know, sort of stylish.”

  “American, you mean. Yes I know, I have a business now. My customers expect it.”

  Gladys came over with coffee, “sit down hon’ it’s not busy.”

  “Thanks Gladys, meet Mitzi Rubin, an old friend.”

  Mitzi smiled, moving into the booth, “I know Gladys, my shop is just down the street.”

  “Everybody knows Mitzi’s Bridal Shop,” Gladys answered.

  “Bridal Shop, that sounds impressive. Tell me about it. First though, how are you? It’s been years.”

  “Yes, it is a long time,” she answered, a smile spreading as she stared at him. “I was at the counter and saw that man leaving who looked like you and when I turned back, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you.”

  “It was my older brother Frank, we just had lunch,” he said, touching her hand on the table. “I am so happy to see you. I don’t know what to say. Tell me about your shop and Shayna. Do you have any other children?”

  “No other children, we divorced two years after Joe came home. It was better that we did. We are still friends but he couldn’t stand that my business was taking so much of my time.”

  “What about you, are you married?”

  “No, I think I am married to my business,” she laughed. “Are you married?”

  “Yeah, with a little boy.”

  They smiled and laughed, him talking about the shirt manufacturer he represented and telling her of Darlene and the baby. She told him about Shayna and how her dressmaking business outgrew the basement on Springfield, forcing her to open a store on Lawrence Avenue, when she began selling Bridal gowns.

  “Oh Victor, I have to get back,” she sighed, after twenty minutes, “this has been so nice.”

  “Give me one of your cards, I’ll call you for lunch. We have to do this again when we have more time.”

  “I’d like that,” she said standing.

  He quickly stood and kissed her cheek. “Mitzi, I’ll call you in a few days.”

  Through the window he saw her hurriedly walking east as his mind flashed back to the love they shared that summer the year before the war ended.

  That night Vic told Darlene about Frank’s proposition. He tried to be casual, not wanting to get too excited, realizing it was his older brother who made the offer. On the other hand he thought he certainly could do as good a job as Frank and twenty thousand a year sounded pretty good.

  When he finished she didn’t say much other than to ask a few questions and then quietly went about clearing the dinner table.

  “Well, what
do you think?”

  Standing at the sink, with her back to him, in a short blue patterned apron covering her light colored long sleeved blouse with the sleeves rolled up, she stopped scraping dishes, pursed her lips thoughtfully and answered. “Victor, you know I trust you to make a living and I know how hard you have always had to work. So far you’ve never disappointed me and I know you never will. Any decision you make I’ll trust you. It’s just that I know how you feel about your brother and I love him too, but I worry that families can sometimes have problems. Frank’s a good brother, but let’s face it, he doesn’t have your education and you told me about how he was mixed up after the war. Maybe you should let well enough alone. Other than that, I don’t want to interfere. You are smart and ambitious so I know you’ll make the right decision.”

  For the next few days Vic couldn’t stop thinking about Frank’s proposal and Darlene, knowing she was apprehensive. He thought about asking his father for advice, but decided against it. This was a decision that had to be made by him and him alone.

  Making up his mind was not easy and he worried because he knew Darlene was right. Families don’t always get along in business. Then he remembered all the good times he had with his brother. The way he taught him to drive the little red truck when he delivered dry cleaning to Pa’s customers. Frankie was about sixteen and had been driving the cleaning route since he was twelve. Vic was riding along one day on a street where there were several stops. Each time they would stop, Vic would slide over to the driver’s seat and pretend he was driving until Frank got in one time on the passenger side and said, “okay now, just start the car, put your foot down on the clutch and put the gear in first. Then let the clutch out very slowly and press the gas a little bit. I want you to go down to the third building and stop”.

  Barely big enough to see over the steering wheel, nine year old Vic made a jerky start, but managed to drive the sixty feet to the next stop. There were three more stops on the same street and he got the feel of the little truck so well by the time he got to the last one, he wanted to continue driving the whole afternoon. Frank laughed and shoved him back to the passenger side, but after that whenever Vic came along he would let him drive until he handled the car like a seasoned pro. Frank swore him to secrecy about their little game because he knew Pa would kill him if he ever found out.

  He also taught him how to shoot pool and play cards and shoot craps like the older guys. And when Vic made some money on his first job and wanted to buy a pair of tailor made draped pants, Frankie took him down on Roosevelt Road to Fox Brothers, where all the professional musicians bought clothes.

  He knew Frank would always be around if he needed him, like when he told him Shirley was pregnant. He also liked being around his older brother, it was sort of an education on how to be cool with his friends and girls.

  They met a few days later and talked some more about how they might work together. Vic had one major concern before he would accept. He wanted Frank to agree that if he had earned at least fifteen thousand in commissions at the end of his second year, he wanted to be a full partner. If not, he said, the proposal was not for him.

  Frank readily agreed and put his arm around Vic’s shoulder saying as they shook hands, “thanks Vic, you won’t regret it, we’re gonna’ do good.”

  That night when Vic told Darlene his decision, she smiled slowly, before putting her arms around him, quietly saying, “I know you want this and the two of you will make it work.”

  Vic met Mitzi for lunch two days later. She had newer pictures of Shayna, who at twelve looked much like her mother when he first met her and he brought out his pictures of Darlene and little Ben. Filling her in on the details of his life was having an exhilarating effect. Proudly he told her how he worked his way through school selling ties and graduating with a Master’s Degree from Roosevelt College, followed by his career representing a shirt company. Lastly he explained how pleased he was that his older brother had asked him to go into business with him.

  Somewhat more restrained, she told him of the breakup of her marriage and the transition from doing laundry and small dressmaking jobs to the Bridal business.

  Holding her cup in both hands, she smiled, “I am so happy I saw you the other day; It was a stroke of luck. I rarely go to Purity’s, but promised the girls in the shop I would bring some rolls and coffee for lunch.”

  Leaning back he studied her. Holding his coffee in both hands, he smiled, “It was luck. I hadn’t been there for years, but Frank invited me and that was when he asked me to work with him. I’ve been having trouble making up my mind about doing it, but meeting you I think was a good omen, so I’ve decided I’m going to do it.”

  “Oh,” she laughed. “You musn’t do it because of me.”

  “It’s not because of you. It’s because I think meeting you again and starting to work with Frank has made me happy. We’re going to build a business and we’ll remember when it all started.”

  After that, every few months they met for lunch, usually for a quick sandwich. Both would show up bursting with news. Him keeping her up to date on his new career and she filling him in on the growth her Bridal business. A year and a half later she invited him to see the new location she was moving her shop to on Oakton Street in downtown Skokie. The grand opening was scheduled the following week and she was excited to show him how she had decorated the new salon.

  She met him at the store smiling brightly. Holding the door open she made a wide sweep with her arm. “How do you like it? A lot better than a basement on Springfield, isn’t it?”

  He stood quietly looking from side to side and bobbing his head up and down. “It’s beautiful, and I’m thrilled for you.”

  The high ceilinged walls were off white. On each side were two full length, three way mirrors, on small carpeted platforms. Pale beige wall to wall carpeting with low cocoa patterned couches, adorned with burgundy throw pillows, formed a half circle around each platform. A single mannequin bride with a long flowing white gown stood in the center, fifteen feet from the entrance, attended by two bride’s maids, one on either side, in pale blue gowns, slit to just above the right knee. A small white ornate desk and chair, off to the side, served as a reception area.

  In the rear was a workroom with three sewing machines and a large padded table for cutting and pressing. Clothes racks lined the walls, broken only by a small office occupying a back corner.

  Mitzi took his hand and walked him around without saying a word. He followed smiling and making soft sounds of approval. Stopping he took both her hands in his, shook his head and hugged her.

  “You like it?” she whispered.

  “It’s beautiful, I’m so proud of you.”

  Tilting her head back, she got serious, “You were my first real friend in this country and to show you what I have accomplished means more to me than you can imagine.”

  With his finger he gingerly wiped away a tear from her cheek; then kissed the same spot. Hugging her tighter he kissed her again, pressing his lips against hers.

  “I love you Victor,” she whispered, pulling him closer.

  Slowly he kissed her neck and lifted her sweater, as she undid his shirt and tie. Releasing him she slid out of her slacks, allowing them to fall to the floor, while he did the same. Locked in each other’s arms, they kissed and he caressed her back. Pulling him on top of her, they slipped onto the table. He readily entered her, meeting her thrusts as she sighed masking soft shrieks. Burying her face in the crook of his neck, she sobbed uncontrollably. When he tried to speak, she shook her head, quieting him.

  “Victor,” she whispered, “It’s been a long time. You are the only man I have been with, except for my husband. I’ve never wanted anyone else.”

  “I don’t know what came over me,” he whispered. “I love my wife and have been faithful, but I love you too. In a way I think I have always loved you.”<
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  They lay tangled in each other’s arms, kissing softly, until she slipped away, disappearing into the bathroom carrying her clothes.

  When she came out he was standing fully clothed waiting for her. She kissed him and pulled him toward the door. “Don’t worry Victor, some things just happen. Go home to your family. They love you. Let me be your friend.”

  She covered his lips with her finger as he started to speak. “Don’t say anything; we are friends; that’s enough.”

  In September 1956 Vic became Frank’s partner and they moved the company to larger quarters on Elston Avenue near Pulaski. In the two years they had worked together they tripled the size of the business. The Wayne boys were working long hours, six days a week. In the morning both called on customers and afternoons they were on the phone with suppliers or following up on orders for the next day’s shipments. On Saturdays they met at the office to discuss the business, prepare bids for large orders and pay bills, usually finishing up with lunch at the grill on the corner before going home.

  Vic came into Frank’s office one Saturday about halfway through their third year and sat across the desk from him. Both were in their usual week-end uniform, casual slacks and open collared shirts. Frank reading a trade magazine with his feet crossed on his desk turned to Vic. “What’s with you today, you look like you got something on your mind,”

  Vic grinned, “You know me like a book, I’ve been thinking, it’s time we expanded.”

  Frank shifted his feet off the desk and eagerly leaned forward, his eyes lighting up.

  “Well here’s what I think, “Vic started, and began laying out a plan that called for hiring their own trades-people to begin building homes in locations where they would not compete with customers. Frank sat back, his hands folded in front of him and listened quietly, his forehead creased in thought, shaking his head slowly up and down, occasionally making humming sounds of agreement as Vic went on.