“It is rather last minute…makes a girl feel she was the last one in the little black book—”
“I’m sorry, I really am. I told you I haven’t caught on to being a civilian. Suppose I told you I didn’t even own a little black book, and if I did you’d be top of the list?”
“Well, for a new civilian you do pretty well in the flattery department.”
“Then how about it? Look, suppose we pretend this is Monday, okay? Now, Miss Blum, may I have the pleasure of taking you out on Saturday night.”
She’d never let herself be taken for granted, but he seemed a nice enough guy, maybe she was being too hard on him…“I’ve never done this before, Sandy, but please, if there’s a next time—”
“You’ve got a deal. What time can I come by?”
“Where would you like to go?” These days it was only polite to ask…A dollar and a half for a pitcher of punch at the Mark could set a fellow back a week in his rent.
“Do you like dancing?”
“Love it.”
“How about the Saint Francis? I think Freddy Martin’s band is playing there this week.”
Sandy Sanders was clearly one of the last of the big spenders.
“How about seven-thirty?” he was asking.
Seven-thirty…that meant dinner. She hadn’t done that in a long time. “It sounds fine.”
“Great, see you tomorrow. And, Nadine, please forgive me if I sounded a little sure of myself—”
“Well, this is only Monday so there’s nothing to forgive.”
Early on Saturday morning he bought a secondhand bottle-green Chevrolet on terms he hoped he could afford. Then he fitted himself out with a navy-blue suit for thirty dollars, a white shirt and a striped tie. Okay, he told himself, welcome back to the living…
When he saw Nadine opening the door he thought she looked wonderful. She wore a long pink chiffon dress with a shocking-pink cummerbund around her waist, and her trim legs were sheathed in sheer silk stockings.
Closing the door behind him, he handed her a box and watched her eyes light up as she saw the two white orchids inside. “They’re beautiful…now, come meet my parents.”
He followed her into an apartment that was furnished much like Neal’s. Mrs. Blum rose to shake his hand as Nadine made the introductions. She was a tall patrician lady with blue eyes and the same oval face as Nadine’s. Sandy was sure that the silver streaks in her hair had widened with the hardships of the last few years, but there was no bitterness in her face.
“Sandy, this is my father. Dad, Sandy Sanders…”
Charles Blum peered over his wire-rimmed reading glasses and appraised the young man. So it’s come to this, he thought. Really hard times…Nadine going out with an ex-marine. Damn that idiot Hoover for getting us into this, and I voted for the fool…“Yes…well, nice meeting you,” he said, picking up the newspaper once again.
What Mr. Blum thought of him was no secret, but Shlomo couldn’t really begrudge his feeling that his daughter was special. Besides, if it hadn’t been for the times, he knew he’d never have gotten into this home. Not that he felt inferior, but Blum was an impressive man who still gave one the feeling he was sitting behind a desk in a plush office.
Nadine kissed her parents goodnight and led the way out of the apartment. In the elevator she struggled with the corsage. “Here, let me help you with that…” She handed him the pin and soon the flowers sat properly on her shoulder…
The orchestra was playing a romantic tune in the dimly lit ballroom when Shlomo asked her what she would like for dinner.
A few years earlier she would never have looked at the prices, but now…The steak dinner was six-fifty, chicken was five…“You order, Sandy.”
“Steak?”
“Fine.” She hadn’t allowed herself a steak since the crash.
As they waited for their entree they danced to the music not of Freddy Martin but Ted Fio Rito, and to the voice of a long-legged blonde named Betty Grable. Sandy danced very well…she could feel the hard muscles in his back under his flannel jacket. Jean was right…This one was a considerable man…
Sandy noticed the waiter putting the steak on the table. “I think we’d better sit down or our food will get cold.”
“Anything you say, sergeant.”
Seated once again across from each other, Sandy said, “This is perfect. The only thing missing is a bottle of good wine. It’s crazy, a country that doesn’t allow wine.”
“I know…”
They didn’t seem to need more small talk. Looking at each other, they feasted on more than the dinner… When the music began again Nadine found herself in his arms, being twirled around the dance floor. She liked the way she felt, she liked the feel of him…
They danced until the ballroom closed. When he brought her to the front door of her apartment, this time they looked at each other for a lingering moment, he wondering if he should kiss her, she hoping he would. She handed him the key. He put it in the lock, turned it and the door opened. Now he stood outside and she inside. “It’s been a lovely evening, Sandy. Thank you…”
“For me too. And since this is Saturday, how about next Saturday?”
She laughed. “I think I can just make it.”
“Great. What time?”
“Same time, same place. Goodnight, Sandy.”
He started to turn when she said, “Sandy, may I have my key?”
He looked down at his hand, then burst out laughing as he handed it back to her. “I don’t know if it’s according to Hoyle in the States, but would it be rushing things, Miss Blum, if I kissed you goodnight?”
“I think it’s pretty much the same here as most places.”
He took hold of her and kissed her gently, but firmly…
After he’d gone she shut the door and leaned against it. I think I like you, Sergeant Sandy Sanders, I think I more than like you. You’re not Stanford or Harvard and that’s fine with me…because I think there’s a devil of a lot that goes on inside your head that I’d like to know about. And I think I will…
Saturday night came and Nadine waited a little nervously. When the bell rang she felt almost giddy.
“Ready, Miss Blum?”
“Since six.” They laughed easily.
Over the next few months they started spending Saturdays and Sundays together, going for long walks in Muir Woods, or lunch in Sausalito, dinner at Fisherman’s Wharf.
One night at dinner Nadine asked, “Do you like San Francisco, Sandy?”
“I love it. One of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen.”
“And you’ve certainly seen a lot of places—”
“If you believe the posters…Join the marines and see the world.”
“Sandy, I think that’s the navy, isn’t it?”
“Well, I get them mixed up, but the marines aren’t stingy about travel.”
“Was it a rough life?”
“No, a good one really. I saw and I did a lot of things I’d never have had the chance to do otherwise, especially when I look back and consider where I came from…”
“And where was that? We’ve never talked seriously about the past.”
“Maybe sometimes it’s better not to…Anyway, I was born in Europe, in Poland. My mother came to America…” He wasn’t going to tell her about his mother leaving his father when he was born…“She opened a restaurant, made a bare living. I’ve told you about my brother and his family. And I also have a sister, Gittel.”
“Gittel? That’s one name I’ve never heard before.”
“She was the only one who didn’t need to change her name. I can’t imagine calling her Greta.”
He smiled briefly, an ironic, even bitter smile, she thought
“Anyway, the war came along and I enlisted in the marines. Thought it was the class of the service, had a spiffy uniform…” He thought back to the time he had enlisted and Jacob had beaten the hell out of him. “To make a long story short, when the war ended I couldn’t get a job so I decid
ed to make the marines a career.” He paused, remembering the headstone he’d ordered…“Loving Wife of—”
“What changed your mind, Sandy?”
“Oh, I suppose I just got tired of always being on the move. One day I woke up and decided it was time to go home.” He’d made it very short. But wasn’t it better this way…?
“Where’s home for you?”
He looked at her closely now. “I think you are, Nadine.”
She looked away and fumbled with the broken fortune cookies. “You’ve never mentioned love, Sandy.”
He reached for her hand across the table. “I love you, Nadine…”
“Do you really, Sandy? Somehow I have a feeling there was once someone very important in your life and you haven’t forgotten—”
Don’t lie, he told himself. “There was, but you have to get over things, move on.”
“Does it still hurt?”
“Yes. She died…”
“Do you think you can ever love anyone else like that again?”
“Probably not…But what I feel for you is love too, believe me…I want to be with you. I need to be with you…”
She didn’t answer.
“Of course, being the suave type I am, I haven’t even asked if you’d have me. I’m not too much of a bargain, I grant you, but for whatever it’s worth, I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you. I want to try to make you the happiest lady in the world—”
She started to cry softly. He came around to her side, lifted her face and kissed her. “Please marry me, Nadine…”
“Yes, Sandy. Wonderful, sweet, dear Sandy—”
He lifted his cup of tea in salute. “Here’s to very lucky Sandy, who’s going to wake up in the morning next to Nadine, and wonder why he should be so lucky.”
She smiled. “All right, Mr. Lucky. Now please shut up and take your intended home. We’ve wasted enough time already.” …
One month later they were married at Temple Emanuel. It was a small wedding—Mr. Blum had to take out a loan from the Morris Plan, but it had all the charm and grace one would expect from Charles and Mildred Blum.
Gittel and her family and Esther came. They couldn’t afford the trip because the Depression had all but wiped them out, but Jacob had sent the money. The memory of the way Hershel had treated them when they were in Cleveland hadn’t faded, but Jacob saw to it that his mother would see her Shlomo married.
Shlomo watched as Nadine walked down the aisle on her father’s arm, stood by his side in a white organdy dress and a tulle hat with satin streamers down the back. It was not a time for lavish gowns. He held her very close to him, and when they were pronounced man and wife, Shlomo knew he had indeed come home.
Doris cried that her beloved Uncle Shlomo had abandoned her. And Rachel could barely look at him when she remembered that awful moment in the back bedroom, that one frenzied night…She clung to Jim’s arm, feeling embarrassed and wishing she hadn’t come…
For sentimental reasons the wedding luncheon was served at the Saint Francis, where their romance had really begun.
During the meal Sara kept looking across the table at the Blums. In spite of Sara’s elegant clothes she felt oddly out of place. She knew she would never be like Nadine’s family—Jean Morris was from one of the so-called best families in San Francisco. Well, “best” was a sometime thing…
Esther cried to think she should live to see this day, and Gittel blessed Jacob for being so good to send for them. Hershel, of course, said not one word of thanks. He didn’t seem so talkative these days…
The luncheon was over before they knew it, and soon everyone stood on the wide steps of the hotel to watch the newlyweds drive away in their green Chevrolet for three days in Carmel…
After their honeymoon they moved into a furnished apartment on Jones Street. Nadine put away her lovely organdy dress in moth balls.
At nine o’clock the next morning she was at work at Ranshoff’s and Shlomo was crossing the bay to Hayward, but they felt they were the richest people in the entire world.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
AT SIX O’CLOCK IN the morning Sara hurried down the stairs to answer the phone in the front hall.
“Sara, this is Jim.”
Her heart pounded. “It’s about Rachel?”
“Yes, you have a grandson.”
Sara’s hand trembled. “I don’t understand. Rachel wasn’t due for another two months—”
Jim was very tired, he didn’t want to explain all the details. Still, it was Rachel’s mother…“She went into labor yesterday afternoon and the doctor decided to do a Caesarean at three o’clock in the morning.”
“A Caesarean? And you didn’t let me know Rachel was in the hospital since yesterday? Jim, I’m her mother…”
Yes, Jim thought, how well I know it…“I really felt the ordeal might be too much for you and I didn’t see any point in having you wait around—”
“Oh, I see.” She fought to control her irritation…“How is Rachel?”
“Fine, thank God.”
“And the baby?”
“A little small, but healthy.”
“Would it be all right if Jacob and I came to the hospital?” she asked cautiously.
He was how holding the receiver so tightly that his knuckles showed white. “Please do…but not today. Rachel’s been through a great deal, you’re of course welcome to come tomorrow—”
“Well, thank you, that’s very generous.”
He hung up without a good-by.
So Rachel had a premature baby? Sara doubted it. She’d suspected Rachel was pregnant when she married Jim Ross. She called Jacob at the plant.
“Hayward Meat Packing Company.”
“Let me speak to Mr. Sanders.”
“Who’s calling?”
“Mrs. Sanders.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Sanders. He’s out in the yard sorting cattle. It may take a while…”
It was eleven o’clock when he called back. “Sara?”
“Who else would it be—”
This was one of those days for Sara. “Yes, what is it, Sara? I’m very busy—”
“When aren’t you busy…Do you know what I’ve been going through since six-thirty this morning?”
“Okay, Sara, what’s the problem?”
“Rachel had a boy.”
“A boy!” he shouted. “That’s great. How’s Rachel?”
“She’s fine…”
“So what’s the problem?”
“The problem? Rachel went to the hospital yesterday afternoon and the doctor did a Caesarean at three o’clock in the morning. I don’t remember when I’ve been so upset—”
“A Caesarean? But she’s all right?”
“Fine…from what your son-in-law said.”
“And the baby?”
“A little small, but fine.”
“Well, thank God.”
“That’s what your son-in-law said—”
He’d be damned if he could understand her. This was their first grandchild and she was upset. “What’s the matter, Sara?”
“Don’t you know?”
“Know what?”
“The baby was seven months. Don’t you know what that means?”
“What does it mean?”
“That she must have been pregnant when she got married. Maybe that’s why she didn’t call as soon as she went to the hospital, but even so…We’re the grandparents and he didn’t think we should be present when our first grandchild was being born. But what can you expect from an old goy?”
Sara was stirring the resentment Jacob already had for Jim, but he tried to suppress it. “Didn’t he give a reason for not telling us earlier?”
“Sure. He thought it might be too much of an ordeal for me. Wasn’t that considerate?”
“I’ll be damned…”
“Well, at least now you know why I’ve been so upset.”
“Yes, I do…”
“I wanted to go to the hospita
l today and was told to stay away, can you imagine? Keeping grandparents away? It’s the cruelest thing I’ve ever heard of.”
“Well, if that’s the way he wants it, then I think that’s the way he’ll get it. I’m not going.”
“I agree with you, Jacob. We’ve been good parents and this is our thanks. Mr. Jim Ross doesn’t think we’re quite good enough for him.”
“He’s going to find out differently…but Rachel should have insisted we be there—”
“Well, now you know.”
He shook his head, so upset that he could hardly work for the rest of the day. He had a grandchild—a grandson—and his daughter and her husband didn’t want him to share the pleasure of it. Hard to believe. Terrible…
Jim sat by Rachel’s bed in a chair waiting for her to wake up. When she opened her eyes, she reached out for his hand.
“Happy, darling?” she asked weakly.
“More than any time in my life,” he said, stroking her hair. “We have our beautiful little son and he has a beautiful mother.”
“Did you call my mother?”
“Yes…”
“And? Was she happy?” Rachel half-smiled.
“Very, very happy, darling…”
“She was pleased it was a boy?”
“Beside herself.”
“Well, thank God for that…And, I know my father will be proud. He always wanted us to be boys.”
“I’m damned glad he didn’t get what he wanted.”
Rachel’s room was filled with flowers from friends and associates of Jim’s, but, strangely, nothing from her family. Not even a phone call. She and her mother had hardly had an easy relationship, but that mama would ignore her now went beyond her comprehension. Was it possible mama was ill and no one wanted to tell her? Three days had passed…She asked the nurse to hand her the phone. After six rings Sara finally answered.
“Mama, this is Rachel.”
“Well, Rachel…how nice of you to call.”
Rachel was in tears. “What’s wrong, mama?”
“You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“That your husband told us not to come to the hospital?”
Rachel blinked back the tears. “I can’t believe that…”
“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not telling the truth?”
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