Bess and Frima

by Alice Rosenthal

  “Amazing isn’t it? And wait until you see the Italian-Jewish picnic she packed for us. Cold blintzes, and Genoa salami, sour pickles, challah, olives, Danish—don’t ask me how she got some of these goodies, but she is always one to make a statement.”

  How much easier to talk and plan now that the ice was broken. They both were suddenly ravenous, and attacked the food like starving things. Thus fortified, Beth had a brain storm.

  “Listen, Frima, don’t say anything to Jack about my plans. It’s better if it comes from me. I’ll write to him, this afternoon. And, don’t worry, I am taking your advice. Not a word about moving in with Vinny.”

  Frima nodded her head. They were both silent for a few moments.

  “I haven’t even said anything to Vinny about this compromise.” She heard herself saying this somewhat shyly, but proudly. “Uh, Frima, do you think you could . . . you should . . . help me?” Beth asked in a small voice.

  “Could–would–schmould, I will!” Frima gave a small ironic laugh. “With these two guys we’ve fallen for, I think we’ll need to help each other and frequently. So let’s put our heads together.”

  “Okay, I’ll start. Dear Jack. Now it’s your turn.”

  “Very funny. Now just continue. You’ve got this job, and so on. Not too much detail, because that’s a dead giveaway that you’re unsure and nervous, that you’re omitting some things. Only you need to know the details yourself, know what I mean?”

  “How did you get so smart?”

  “Detective stories,” Frima retorted.

  Relief that they were thinking as one again made them feel hilarious, but they managed to put together a brief, well-intentioned, diplomatic—you could say friendly—letter and had dropped it in the outgoing mail bin to make sure it went out that very afternoon. Frima had insisted on this. She wanted no opportunity for either of them to revise any more and delay getting this to Jack.

  They returned to the main house to see Hannah, Leon, and Max seated in the shade with glasses of iced lemonade in their hands. They were relaxed, chatting pleasantly like old friends.

  “Here they come, the belles of the Catskills,” Max greeted them. “You girls get yourselves a cold drink from the kitchen, and join us.” Could this be the same Max?

  “We’re only staying a few minutes,” Hannah said. “Just enough time to kiss this girl goodbye.”

  “That’s all the time Bess has—hnyeh, hnyeh. Of course, if she came up here and caught herself a nice Jewish dentist or doctor—even an accountant—she wouldn’t have to work. But no, she falls for an Italian radical—a labor organizer, yet. Oy vey! Just what I needed. Hnyeh.”

  “He’s a fine young man, according to Moe Ginsberg, and he should know. Furthermore, Judith Ginsberg told me he looks something like the actor, John Garfield,” Hannah replied. Frima and Beth looked at each other with raised eyebrows and grinned. Of course, he did! They’d both noticed his resemblance to someone in the movies.

  Hannah rose with a little sigh. “Well come, Leon, Frima, dear. We can’t keep Jack at the desk forever. Beth, you look wonderful—you stay that way. And bring your young man to the farm one day soon, as soon as everything is settled, of course,” she said airily, but with a significant smile. She kissed Beth on the forehead.

  A benediction, Vinny would call it.

  CHAPTER 12

  On the way home to Ellenville, Mama informed them that she would sit in the back since she and Frima had some talking to do.

  “Frima, my love, you know I depend on Leon for his good practical business sense. He is also the soul of discretion, and I’ve talked some of my plans over with him. He has kindly consented to drive and leave us time to talk.”

  Frima looked at her quizzically. She barely had time to do this before Mama had them both seated and was charging ahead, full steam.

  “I don’t know whether you and Jack have an understanding, or if he is your intended,” she paused meaningfully, “but that is not necessarily of the greatest importance at the moment.”

  “Then why mention it?”

  “Now bear with me, darling. What I mean is, your relationship doesn’t have to be affected by this, particularly. I am thinking of hiring Jack for the winter months to help me manage the hotel from the city. I find him so bright and capable, and it would free you to concentrate on your music more. Also, he could continue his studies, and I’d give him a wage that would ease his situation, even allow him—and Beth, if she contributed—to hire someone to take their places at the store. My offer would only be part-time, but not as taxing as working at the store.”

  “Whoa, wait a minute! You’ve got this all figured out?”

  “Only the business part—the money issues—which I’ve discussed with Leon and Moe. I would do nothing about this without your agreement. What I’m trying to say is, I don’t think it has to affect your personal situation with him. If you didn’t care for him, I could have come to the same conclusion, based on his abilities. Also now there’s this situation with Beth. It might ease her way in leaving her family, if Jack knew he would not be their sole support and labor. It would certainly soften the blow. Think about it.”

  “Yes, I will.” She felt incapable of saying more. If Mama expected her to be ecstatic in her gratitude, well, she’d have to be disappointed. She sat back in her seat, trying to get a handle on the puzzling resentment she felt at an offer that would undoubtedly make everything easier for everyone, herself included.

  After a few moments, Mama pulled a cigarette case from her bag. She offered one to Leon, and lit one for herself. She didn’t smoke often, but, Frima knew, it was a prop that could ease uncomfortable silences. “You look troubled, Frima,” she said.

  Frima managed a reassuring smile. “No, Mama, It’s just a lot to think about.”

  “Yes, it is, my love.” And like the skilled salesperson and manager she was, Mama didn’t belabor the point but stubbed out her cigarette and closed her eyes for a short nap.

  Well, that was it, of course. It was the feeling that she was being managed that Frima resented. It was all happening too fast, out of her control. Was this plan to her benefit? Well, yes, but she had no room to maneuver. Maneuver what? With two fingers she massaged the space between her eyes, as if this gesture could shed some light on her puzzlement. It didn’t. This was just nuts. What was she bellyaching about? She deliberately leaned forward to talk to Leon to distance herself from these thoughts.

  “How is my old friend Moe? Any more corny jokes from him? You know, I met him when I was about eight, and I thought he was the funniest man I ever saw.”

  Evidently, her voice roused Mama from her catnap. “Are we there already? You must be speeding, Leon.”

  So she managed him, too. Leon doesn’t seem to mind, why should I? “Almost there,” Frima informed her. “And Mama, remember, not a word to Jack about your offer until he’s heard from Beth. We mailed the letter before we left Monticello, so it should only be a couple of days.”

  “As if I would do such a thing!” Mama let her know she was a bit offended, but Frima felt a lot better. More on top of things.

  Jack was busy at the desk, jotting down a message with the phone cradled between ear and shoulder. He looked relaxed, efficient, exceedingly handsome. He smiled when he saw them, politely ended his conversation, and jumped up to relieve Mama of packages. When his arms were unburdened again, he turned to Frima to give her a quick kiss.

  “Careful, I reek! Genoa salami—Beth and I saved some for you.”

  “Genoa? Is it from that guy, Vinny?”

  Frima giggled. “No, from my mother—would you believe it? There it was, packed in that humongous picnic basket.”

  “Is it from Italy?” he asked suspiciously.

  “I’m sure it’s just Italian style.”

  “Then it has pork in it, right?”

  “Well, yes, I guess so. But you eat pork outside of the house, don’t you? Because Mama and I will eat it, if you don’t.”

  �
��Not so fast,” he said, smiling and taking her hand. “I may be suspicious about Italian men, but I’ll eat their food any day—as long as it doesn’t support Mussolini.”

  It was all going to be okay. Fine, actually. The sight of Jack, the nearness of him was completely reassuring. She could hardly wait to be alone with him. And so it continued for the next two days. Until he came storming over to her where she had settled after lunch for a few blissful minutes of quiet in a hammock tucked behind the house.

  “Just what is this?” he demanded.

  “What is what?” For a moment she was completely startled. He sat down on the edge of the hammock, nearly dumping her out.

  “This sweet little letter from my sister—this little hand grenade. Do you know anything about this?”

  “Jack, just what is the matter with you?” She ignored his question. She was genuinely indignant. She didn’t expect this anger directed at her.

  “Okay, just in case you didn’t know.” He proceeded to read the letter, punctuated with his own angry asides:

  My Dear Jack, [Dear, my foot!]

  I wanted you to know before I announced this to the family. I have made a major change in my plans. I’ve got a job starting in September, working as a secretary downtown, and I’ll be rooming with my friend Muriel, who is renting an apartment near my office. Vinny helped me find the job. [Big surprise, there—she can’t even type.] It’s at the National Maritime Union, and it will pay me enough for my rent, living expenses, and some over, which I plan to contribute to Mama and Papa so they can pay for some help in the store. I hope this will ease any extra burden on you caused by my moving.

  This is a necessary and, I believe, right move for me. [Deserting her family, her religion, her values!] I want to remain in touch and I hope that we can remain friends [Ha! That’s what people say before they never talk to each other again] and help and support each other as brother and sister. I will be in touch with more details later.

  Love, [This is love?]

  Beth

  “Quite a letter isn’t it?” he continued, studying her reactions.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Carefully written, wouldn’t you say? Reasonable, agreeable, diplomatic—not the way my sister usually talks to me or my parents. She had help—You, Vinny, that Muriel—maybe all of you. Very nice! Very loyal!”

  “Good God, what is it with you? Is it the letter or who wrote it that enrages you?”

  “Both, I guess,” he said, visibly moderating his anger, and speaking more evenly. “I don’t like her plans, obviously, since I can’t approve of her boyfriend or what he represents, but if you aided and abetted her, I would be really upset, disappointed. You taking her side.”

  “Side?” She suddenly abandoned strategy for the plain truth. “I’m trying not to take sides,” she retorted, her voice shaking with anger. “What has this to do with sides? Yes, Beth told me about her move, just a few days before she wrote to you, swearing me to secrecy, and I told her that if she didn’t tell you and very soon, I would. And, yes, I helped her word the letter. What’s wrong with that? I care for you both, and I don’t want to have to choose one of you over the other. There is no need—there shouldn’t be. Beth understands this and accepts it. But, believe me, if you insist that I choose, then we are through—you and me. Think about it!”

  She didn’t wait for a reply. And no, she wasn’t going to weep over this. She was too indignant. How self-centered could he be? She went back to the main house to take over the desk. Tears could wait until she was alone tonight, because alone she would be, for sure. She returned to her room early. No tears. She felt so numbed and desolate that the only relief was sleep, and she felt incredibly sleepy. She set her alarm clock for five-thirty, so she would awaken to gather the breakfast eggs. Without it, she was afraid she would sleep all day.

  She and Jack were polite but avoided each other as much as possible during their working hours. She noticed throughout the day that his ordinary, spontaneous, charming smile was rather forced. For herself, she went through the motions of her job with a gray numbness that she hoped was not evident. How long would it last? What would life be like if Mama actually offered Jack a city job and he accepted? If she offered it, Frima was sure he would take it. What would she feel like then? It wasn’t a thought that lifted her spirits, but she was deeply reluctant to say anything to her mother. She wasn’t sure why.

  The next morning at six, she found Jack standing quietly on the back steps of the house, waiting for her. He must have been waiting for her, as ordinarily he wouldn’t be dressed, shaved, and ready to face the world quite so early. She hesitated for a moment, and he took her arm.

  “Please, Frima, please wait a moment or let me walk with you. I need to say something, to talk to you.” Taking her silence as consent, he began. “I am so sorry. I’ve been a complete idiot, about Bess, about Vinny, but mostly about you. I don’t know what got into me, talking to you like that. I was very upset with my sister, but I had some nerve taking it out on you. I can’t excuse myself by saying I’ve been brought up badly—even though it’s true. Being with you, I should have learned better by now, and I promise you I will try.” He continued, his voice almost breaking, “I love you, I need you, Frima. I want to marry you and be able to take care of you, make you happy.” He paused for a moment. “Can you forgive me? Will you try? You don’t have to answer me this minute, but will you try?”

  Frima melted, immediately and completely. She answered by bursting into tears and throwing her arms around his neck. They stood silently rocking together.

  “You’d better help me gather the eggs,” she said, recovering herself.

  “Sure. Uh, Frima, would you do something for me? Will you help me answer Bess? At least I’d feel better if you would sort of run your eye over my response to her.”

  “You mean Beth?”

  Jack sighed. “For all of her nineteen years she’s been Bess. I’ll never remember to call her anything else. Besides this change—it’s really dumb. Bethesda, I ask you. Isn’t that a little ridiculous? Pretentious?”

  “Not really. But maybe it’s because I understand a little better why she changed it. So, for now, at least, call her what she wants to be called—if you want my advice, that is.”

  “You know I do.”

  She stopped herself from rhapsodizing—that would never do—but, God, how happy and relieved she was. She still had Jack, he was hers, and she was ready to show him that she was his. After all, Beth had “given herself” to Vinny, and look at her—absolutely bloomingly happy. And, God knows, she, Frima was equally eager to do the same. She had been, in truth, all summer. Still, it would not do to sing this out to anyone who might be listening. It took all morning before a little worry found its way through her pink cloud. Had Mama already offered Jack that job, and had that influenced him? Well, what if she had? It didn’t mean he doesn’t love me. Nevertheless, she found herself at her mother’s door a short while later.

  “I wonder, Mama, did you talk to Jack yet about working for you in the city? He hasn’t said anything to me about it.”

  “Of course not. You told me to wait until he heard from Beth, and far be it from me to cross my daughter, in such matters,” she said pointedly. Frima ignored her huffiness, judging it was mostly for show.

  “Well, he did hear from her, so you’ll probably want to talk to him now, right?”

  “Was he upset about Beth?”

  “At first, but I think he’s coming around.”

  “That accounts for the two gloomy faces I noticed yesterday. Well, I’ll talk to him today. Would you ask him to come to the office directly after lunch?”

  “I sure will,” she said cheerfully, trying to control her elation until she was by herself again. She slipped out the back door, and did a little dance in the shadow of the house. Oh, joy, joy! What could be better? He loved her—entirely for herself. Nothing self-serving about that. It was staff lunchtime and she saw Jack walking up to the main house
. A few kids ran up to him, and he swooped down and lifted the youngest one to his shoulder. How sweet he was, how altogether fine he looked. Oh, it was going to be a wonderful year in a wonderful world!

  CHAPTER 13

  Beth was out early this Saturday morning. Minetta Street, tucked away between the longer Bleeker and MacDougal streets, was still very quiet, except for shift workers coming home and dog walkers. Her eyes followed one man in pajama bottoms and a raincoat. He was half asleep and crabby as he stood by the curb while his pooch took his time checking out the territory. “Crap already, will you please? It’s cold out here,” she heard him mutter. Nevertheless she envied him. The dog reminded her of Rhubarb, whom she missed keenly every time she saw a mutt who resembled him. She had longed to take him back to the city, but this yearning was more of an if only we could than a we simply have to because she knew Vinny was absolutely right in refusing to consider this.

  “Baby, this is not a lap dog. He probably hasn’t ever had a leash on him. His house training is questionable, especially since he isn’t allowed anywhere closer than the back door of the kitchen—except for you spoiling him in this cabin.”

  “Spoil? I do not spoil anyone.”

  “Okay, okay, wrong word. But he’s not an anyone, he’s a dog—a country dog.”

  “A second class citizen to you!”

  Vinny just looked at her until she smiled reluctantly at her own idiocy.

  “I’m thinking it was a mistake trying to raise your social consciousness. But really, Bethie, leave him to do what he needs and loves to do—eat, sniff other dogs, and hump any females in heat or objects he wishes were in heat.”

  Beth had rushed into the car and sunk down in her seat to hide when they were all packed and ready to leave for the city. She couldn’t bear the thought of looking into those tragic, abandoned brown eyes for the last time. The dog dashed up to the car, ready to jump in or chase it, when, surprisingly, Vinny got out, took something from his pocket and called to him. “Here, Rhubarb, you go get it, boy!” The dog bounded off, joyfully grabbed his prey mid-air and trotted off with it.