Portraits

by Cynthia Freeman

  “I know, but why her? Why?”

  “Meet her, darling, and you’ll see. Will you?”

  “I’ll have to think about it.”

  “Thank you, darling, for that…” And he meant it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  JIM MET RACHEL EVERY night after work. At first Sara raised a ruckus about her comings and goings, but Rachel didn’t really care. She simply said she was going to night classes and would be home when she got there.

  The girls Rachel worked with noticed her being picked up each night in a fine automobile, and, of course, there were all sorts of speculations around the office that she was being kept, that she was having an affair with an older man…Rachel knew what was being said behind her back and it bothered her no more than Sara’s silent treatment. A new stratagem for something new and wonderful in her young life…

  Rachel was very quiet when she and Jim walked into Sheves Jewelers on the corner of Post and Grant. She had often lingered at the windows of that prestigious establishment, looking at the jewels and gems. But now she was inside, being shown tray after tray of the finest gems.

  When the salesman showed her the five-carat solitaire, she marveled at the facets shimmering in the overhead lighting. Was she the same Rachel who had worked for the five-and-dime, who had been an usherette at the Tivoli Theater, Rachel who never had a decent dress until she earned enough to buy one herself? This couldn’t be the girl who just a short time ago had stood on a street corner on a rainy evening, thinking that nothing of any consequence would ever happen in her life. It seemed unreal, unbelievable, as Jim slipped the ring on her finger. She trembled inside…it was only a dream…

  “Darling, do you like it?”

  She looked up at him. It was no dream. Did she like it? It was difficult to keep her breathing even…“Oh, I love it.”

  “Then, my love, this means we’re officially engaged.”

  They laughed and Jim took her in his arms and kissed her as the salesman smiled. “Congratulations, Mr. Ross. And you, Miss Sanders.”

  They walked up Post Street and went into Gump’s. Rachel followed like a sleepwalker. Again the feeling of unreality overwhelmed her. The beauty of the magnificent antiques, the china and silver, the Baccarat crystal—it was simply incredible.

  Finally Jim led her to the credit department. “What are we doing here?”

  “I want to open up an account, so you can charge.”

  Rachel barely nodded. Incredible.

  They had been engaged for two months when Jim received a letter from Maureen saying that since he appeared to be serious about getting married the least she could do was to meet the lucky lady. He immediately called her and told her how pleased he was and how much he wanted her and Rachel to be friends…

  The meeting got off to an awkward beginning. Maureen directed most of her conversation to her father. “What have you decided, dad, about taking your only daughter to Argentina? We never got that settled in Santa Barbara.”

  Rachel looked stunned. “Are you going to Argentina, Jim?”

  He took her hand. “I’ll have to, darling, but just for a few weeks. Business…”

  Maureen was delighted to see that Rachel was upset and in the dark about the trip. She glanced at the sparkling ring on Rachel’s slender finger. Rachel might be marrying daddy, but not for love. She’d bet her last biscuit on that…“Rachel, didn’t daddy tell you? I’m shocked at you, daddy. That’s no way to start a new life with a new wife. Secrets can be very destructive to a healthy relationship, you know…”

  Jim knew, and he was also seeing Maureen in a new light. She was the quintessence of charm, but she also, he was sorry to see, had more than a little of Kelly’s nature. Now he very much wished he’d never pressed the issue, it would have been better to have had them meet after the wedding. But he had no idea Maureen would behave like this…“I haven’t kept any secret from Rachel…The fact is, I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to go.”

  “But apparently you do.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, then, how about me hitching a ride?”

  “Not this trip, Maureen.”

  “How about you, Rachel? Are you going to let our handsome brute go all alone? You know what they say happens when the cat’s away.” And she proceeded to smile like one.

  “Well, Maureen,” Rachel said, “I’m afraid I’m not too up on cats. I think I know Jim, though, and that’s assurance enough for me.” Jim’s attachment to his daughter was going to change, if she had any influence. And she did.

  Smug bitch, Maureen thought, and said, “How marvelous to be so sure. I think I’d worry just a little.”

  Jim had had enough, called the waiter and paid the check.

  After they had driven Maureen home they sat in silence. It was Rachel who interrupted their thoughts.

  “It went pretty badly, didn’t it? Maureen, to put it mildly, didn’t take this too well.”

  Jim half smiled. “It wasn’t exactly what I’d hoped for, but I still believe in time she’ll come around. She’s hurt. I suppose that’s natural—”

  “Maybe…Why didn’t you say you were planning to go away?”

  “Because, darling, I honestly hoped I could get out of it.”

  “Why Argentina?”

  “We’re building a steel plant there and it seems I have to do the negotiating personally.”

  “How long will you be away?”

  “Ten days to two weeks at the most. Oh God, Rachel, I know how difficult this is.”

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Thursday…”

  She bit her lip. Suddenly she felt as if the lifeline had been cut. Especially when she thought of her nights at home with her mother…“I already miss you.”

  He pulled her against him, kissed her. “Darling, when we’re married I guarantee you’ll never be away from me. You’ll probably get sick of me but it won’t do you any good. You’re stuck, for better or worse, with this old party named Jim Ross…”

  Nonetheless, it was a sad Rachel who walked upstairs to her room that night

  No sooner had she started to undress than Sara opened the door. “I want to talk to you.”

  Rachel badly wanted to be left alone.

  “I don’t know what you’re doing, so you tell me, coming home any time you want—?”

  “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

  Sara was about to answer when she spotted the ring on Rachel’s finger. “Where did you get that?”

  Rachel was furious with herself for forgetting to take the ring off.

  “I asked where you got that.”

  “From a man—”

  “You tramp, you rotten little…I knew you’d come to no good, even with the convent.”

  Rachel was trembling as she began to get dressed again. She would not remain in this house and take this abuse one more minute.

  Sara pulled her around so that they were facing each other. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I’m engaged, damn you. You and your mind. I’m going to get married, can you understand that?”

  “Why, are you pregnant?”

  Rachel’s eyes were full of tears. “You’re crazy, you really are…”

  “Well, if I am it’s because of you. And if you’re engaged why didn’t you come to your parents like a decent girl and tell us?”

  “Because I don’t have the kind of parents—”

  “And this lover of yours…”

  Rachel grabbed her coat and purse, her blinding tears almost making her stumble down the stairs.

  She ran until she found a phone.

  Jim was frightened by her voice. “What’s wrong, darling?”

  “I need you, Jim. Please come and pick me up…please.”

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “My mother found out about us, there was a terrible scene.”

  “Darling, there won’t be a ferry until two this morning. Let me think.” Damn, he was in San Fran
cisco and Rachel needed him now. “Darling, I’m going to call the Oakland Hotel and make a reservation for you. Take a taxi and I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

  It was almost three-thirty when Jim knocked on her door. When she opened it her eyes were red from crying. He embraced her and then led her to the settee, where Rachel sat clinging to him. Stroking her hair, he said, “Now tell me what happened.”

  “It was terrible…my own stupidity…I forgot to take my ring off for the first time. When I got home she rushed into my room and started her usual tirade. I honestly think there’s something a little crazy about her. She said things I’m ashamed to tell you…”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to speak to them. I should have done it before.”

  “I didn’t want you to be hurt. I can’t explain them.”

  “Look, I’ve faced a few difficult people in my life.”

  “But not like them—!”

  “You’re not to worry, let me do that. Now, please get some sleep, Rachel. I’ll take a room and later this morning we’ll go see your parents.”

  “Can’t you stay with me?”

  “No, darling, let me do this my way, will you?”

  He kissed her and left…

  Sara was in her room when she heard the car stop in front of the house. When she peered through the curtains and saw the blue Cadillac, she gasped. She was undeniably jealous as she watched Jim help Rachel out of the car.

  Rachel unlocked the door and for a moment, as she stood in the hall, she thought she’d pass out, but she knew there simply was no way to avoid this. Taking Jim by the hand she said, “Darling, you wait in the livingroom. I’ll have to tell them I’m home.”

  But Sara had already come down the stairs and now stood waiting to be introduced. Rachel almost gasped when she saw that Sara was wearing the dress she had worn to temple. Sara hadn’t worn the dress since; she’d had no reason to. For a moment, in spite of herself, Rachel could feel sorry for her…

  “This is my fiancé, Jim Ross.”

  “Mr. Ross.” Sara forced herself to respond graciously.

  “Mrs. Sanders, I’m very happy to meet Rachel’s mother.”

  I’m sure, Sara thought. She could imagine what Rachel must have told him about her. She could hardly stand the sight of them, feeling they must have spent the night together…after all, where else would Rachel have disappeared to except…“Thank you, Mr. Ross. Now if you’ll excuse me I’ll call Rachel’s father.”

  Rachel began to tremble. She had reason to. Sara had kept Jacob awake for most of the night with her tales about Rachel, and by morning he could hardly wait to see Rachel and this man. He was primed for battle.

  When he walked into the room his face was set, his jaw tight as his cold blue eyes looked from one to the other.

  “Papa, this is my—”

  “I’m Jim Ross, Mr. Sanders,” Jim said, extending his hand.

  Jacob didn’t acknowledge the gesture. “Sit down. All right, now please tell me about this.”

  Jim remained standing. “Rachel and I are going to be married.”

  “How old are you, Mr. Ross?”

  “Forty-two…”

  “And do you know how old Rachel is?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you think she loves you?”

  “Yes, Mr. Sanders, I do.”

  “And how long do you think that will last?”

  “For the rest of our lives, I hope.”

  “Don’t bet on it. Think about this. When you’re sixty-five, she’ll be forty-two. You really think a marriage like that can last?”

  “It depends on the people—”

  “You think so, do you?”

  “I know so. There are people the same ages whose lives are hell together.”

  He ignored that, but didn’t overlook it. “I’m sure you know we’re Jewish.”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t want my daughter to marry outside her religion.”

  Sara sat back, listening, and watched Rachel twist her handkerchief in trembling hands.

  “Well, Mr. Sanders, I’d be happy to accommodate you, but one doesn’t have much choice about the religion one’s born into.”

  “That’s very clever, but the fact remains I forbid Rachel to marry you.”

  “Mr. Sanders, I’m afraid you’re not in a position to forbid Rachel anything. She’s of age. But let me tell you something. I have a daughter, so I’m going to give you a little advice. If you want to lose Rachel forever, then continue on as you are and I give you my word that Rachel will never want to see you.”

  Jacob looked at his daughter. “Why didn’t you come to me, Rachel?”

  “You know why, papa. I was afraid.”

  “But you weren’t afraid that maybe you owed us something, your mother and me? We worked to bring you up as a decent girl, and this is our thanks, sneaking behind our backs—?”

  “If you and mama were parents I could confide in, I would have come to you—”

  “And we’re not?”

  “No, papa, you’re not,” she answered without looking at him.

  “All right, Rachel, you can go upstairs and pack and get married by a priest…”

  “I’m getting a divorce, Mr. Sanders.”

  Jacob stood shaking his head. “I see. And how long will it be before you’re divorced?”

  “About eight months.”

  “What kind of a man are you to take a young girl and—”

  “Mr. Sanders, you’ve said a great many things I wouldn’t have taken from anyone else, but because of what Rachel means to me, I have. Let me warn you, Mr. Sanders, don’t make a statement you’ll regret. Rachel is going to be my wife. As a man, I’m sure you understand what I mean.”

  It was obvious from the size of Rachel’s ring and the way Jim Ross was dressed that Jacob couldn’t ask how he was going to provide for his daughter. Still, how had Rachel met him? Well, he’d find out later…“Rachel, you have eight months to change your mind. And you’d better be damned sure, because once you get married, young lady, you will never come into this house—and I’m sure you understand what I mean by that, Mr. Ross.”

  Jim took Rachel’s arm. Looking Jacob in the eye, he said, “I wouldn’t worry too much about that, Mr. Sanders. Now if you’ll excuse us…Come on, darling.”

  On the way out Jim turned once more to Sara and Jacob. “Mr. and Mrs. Sanders, it’s been a pleasure meeting you.” …

  Rachel sat very quietly at dinner, as did Jim…The pain was as much his as hers. How, he wondered, could people like that have a daughter like Rachel? Perhaps he ought to ask himself the same question…He had sacrificed a huge part of his life for Maureen, and she had badly disappointed him when he needed her most…“Darling, I’m not going to Argentina.”

  Rachel looked up. “But you said it was very important.”

  “It is, but some things are more important. I’ll have someone else take over the project. I’m not that indispensable…It’s clear you’re in for a very bad time and I don’t want you to be alone.”

  “I seem to be coming between you, your daughter and your business…”

  “Nothing’s as important as you are, Rachel, nothing.”

  “I love you, Jim Ross. I really do. I was afraid to at first…but I do now. Can you stand it?”

  His answer was to take her in his arms.

  The following months were filled with the kind of joy and excitement Rachel had never believed could happen to her.

  This evening they attended the opening of the opera. Earlier they had dined with some of Jim’s friends, and from the looks on their faces he knew that later there would be whispers that he had robbed the cradle. But it didn’t bother him at all as he looked at the most beautiful woman in the world, dressed just as Rachel should be—in the Schiaparelli that he had bought her.

  They shopped together for her trousseau, but most exciting for Rachel was furnishing their home. They selected Royal Crown Derby china, gold Minto
n serving plates, Baccarat crystal, sterling silver. Rachel found herself adjusting to her new role as though she was born to it. She would not feel guilty, no matter what mama said…

  When the boxes began to arrive from Gump’s at the house in West Oakland, Sara opened them, caught between frustration and jealousy. Imagine Rachel coming into all this. She had fought for years with Jacob to furnish the house, and he still refused. Didn’t she matter? Her antagonism grew, not only toward Rachel but Jacob. Her depression deepened too as the boxes continued to arrive, day after day.

  Rachel was annoyed that the boxes had been opened, but said nothing. Sara’s attitude toward her was near intolerable, and Jacob was mostly cold, indifferent. Sara, of course, had never confided in him the things she had said to Rachel that night; she had told him only that Rachel was undoubtedly carrying on an affair. His anger had grown to the point of deep hostility, helped not a little by the fact that Jim Ross made him feel damned uncomfortable. He took no joy in the fact that Rachel was moving up in the world. Thanks to Mr. Wonderful James Ross…King of the goyim…

  Three months before Jim’s final decree he insisted that Rachel stop working and concentrate on furnishing the apartment at the Brocklebank, and they engaged Arnold Delacourt as their decorator.

  The evening they were to be married they wandered from room to room admiring the home they would soon share, looking out to the blue bay and the distant shoreline of Oakland.

  Suddenly Rachel was just plain overcome. It couldn’t be happening to her…it would all disappear, she’d wake up and be home again—

  “You’re trembling, Rachel—”

  “I know.”

  “Why, darling?”

  “Because I’m so wonderfully happy, and still not sure it’s for real.”

  “It’s real, Rachel. And prenuptial jitters are something most people go through—”

  “No, it’s not that. I can’t wait to marry you. I’ve wanted you so badly, I don’t suppose it’s been a secret.” She smiled.

  “It wasn’t easy for either of us, darling. I’m not made of wood.”

  “I know.” Her eyes misted with tears. “I only hope I’m up to all this happiness…I’m not exactly an old hand at it, you know…”