Doris ran out of the room, up the stairs and locked herself in her room. She threw herself across the bed, and cried. Mama could be so damned cruel…Henry was right, she was mad, but not in the way he thought. She saw her mother for what she had become, and that’s what counted. No more making excuses for her…I’ve got to get away, got to get away, she kept repeating to herself.
When Henry returned that evening Doris was packed and waiting for him. He took the things and put them in the car and then waited for Doris. He couldn’t go back into that house and look at Sara.
With the baby in her arms, Doris knocked on her mother’s door.
“Come in…”
“I’m going now, mama. I know you tried, really I do. I also know you meant well, and—”
“Please spare me the farewell speech.”
“I’ll call—”
“Don’t bother, you don’t need me. You have a husband who can take care of you.”
Doris turned and shut the door.
Lillian was downstairs, waiting in the hall. “Doris, I’ll miss you…”
“I know, Lillian—”
“Do you? I’m the only one left—”
They both started to cry then, because there was nothing else to say. Lillian had said it all.
“When we get settled, you’ll come and see us, Lillian.”
“If she lets me…”
Another kiss and Doris closed the front door behind her…
That night they stayed with Henry’s mother, and the next day the furniture came out of storage and was delivered to the flat on Scott Street in the Marina. Doris felt she was home at last. Not free, but home.
When Jacob came back from his trip Sara filled him in on his daughter’s sudden departure.
“Do I understand that they had money?”
“Well, I guess he must have. When Doris decided she didn’t need as much help with the baby she told me Henry had rented a flat. And he didn’t even say good-by or go to hell. Imagine, after all I…we…did. Slaved, never left the house…I’m sorry to say it, but they used us, Jacob, our own flesh and blood…”
Lillian sat unnoticed during all this, wishing she had the nerve to speak out. But she kept still. All mama had to do was give her one of those special looks…
“Well, you’ll see if I give them a penny from now on,” Jacob said. “We sure got ourselves a couple of wonderful sons-in-law. And as for our daughters—well, the less said…”
Oh, how Lillian would have loved to tell papa everything. And there was a lot she could tell, not only about what mama had told him about Doris, but about the times mama took her to the Century Theater on Telegraph Avenue and left her there for a few hours. A few hours? She sat through the same movie twice. The first time she had become so worried that something had happened to mama that she walked out into the lobby and looked out through the glass doors. Suddenly she wished she hadn’t. Mama was standing on the street with a man. She knew who he was; she recognized him from the bank. Lillian felt sick when she saw him kiss and hold mama for a minute before he turned and left. Lillian had run back to her seat as fast as she could, and soon mama was tapping her on the shoulder.
They went to the Pig and Whistle and mama had seemed happy as she said, “Lillian darling, I don’t want you to tell papa I left you alone in the movies this evening. Will you remember that?”
“Yes, mama,” she answered, but she couldn’t look at her mother. She had loved her better than anyone in the world, even Doris, until that night. And then there were the phone calls that used to come almost every night when papa was away. Mama would say, “Lillian, go to your room and study.” She went to her room, but she didn’t study. She listened to mama laughing and whispering. Lillian caught a word here and there. All during that time mama was…was nice, sweet. It had all happened a little while after Doris got married. Then one night she heard mama crying when she was on the phone. She’d stood at the top of the stairs in the shadows and listened to mama say, “I can’t go on like this anymore. You’re becoming more important than I intended. I just wanted a friend…No, I can’t do what you want. It’s all over. The guilt is too much. I hate sneaking around like this and if your wife or Jacob found out—No, I can’t.”
Lillian had shut the door then and cried for a very long time.
And so she could not have told papa that mama had also cried…
Sara had not been unfaithful to Jacob physically, but her guilt was no less than if she had. She’d been so awfully lonely, and with Doris getting married a door seemed to have slammed in her life. Oh yes, she’d wanted someone to look at her too and see that there was still a woman…only thirty-nine, after all…but it had terrified her all the time it had buoyed her, made her feel for a little while like a woman again…But that was all she’d wanted, all she’d dared, and he had not understood…No matter what she did, it just didn’t seem to turn out right…
And now with Doris gone, the awful depression and loneliness came over her again. She’d said some harsh and unfair things to Doris, she knew. Doris had really been the only child who seemed to try to understand her. But Doris had also deserted her in the end, which made her anger, and her depression, all the greater…
CHAPTER FIFTY
AFTER DORIS MOVED INTO her flat it took a great deal to try and forgive what had happened, but she had gotten out. Don’t be vindictive, she told herself. She called mama.
At first Sara all but hung up, but Doris persisted and Sara, who’d been dying for the call, finally relented.
Doris had mama and Lillian to dinner. She wished papa had been home. But he was in Wyoming…
Sara said nothing about the flat, which was to be expected, but her daughter’s happiness in her home had started the wheels in motion. That evening when Sara left to go home, she knew a change was going to take place in her life. Oh, yes, without question, tonight she had come to a great decision.
Monday morning the house in Oakland went on the market, without Jacob’s knowledge. Within a month she had a buyer. It made no difference how little she’d gotten; she was ready to move to San Francisco and she now had the money to do it. Jacob had had his way long enough. Turn the page, end the chapter, start a fresh new one…
After dinner she said quietly, almost casually, “I’ve sold the house, Jacob. Eleven thousand dollars—”
He stood up abruptly, the chair toppled to its side.
Lillian was afraid he was going to hit mama.
“What? You’re crazy…Who the hell do you think you are that you can twist me around your little finger? And how dare you sell this property at such a price?”
“Such a price! You paid twenty-five hundred dollars and I sold it for eleven thousand and you’re complaining?”
“Property has gone up. This house is worth at least fifteen—”
“Stop hollering. You got your money’s worth out of it. Besides, if I’d asked, would you have sold? No. Now, Jacob, you listen to me carefully. I’m moving to San Francisco. I will not go on living like the poor relations. Your brother lives better than we do—”
“And since you made all the decisions, what are you going to do? Buy a mansion?”
“No, I’m going into an apartment.”
“An apartment? That’s like living in a jail—”
“Rachel’s apartment is like a jail? A jail like that I should only have.”
“Well, I’m not going to live in an—”
“And I’m not living in a two-story house. I’m through climbing stairs and being a slave to the house…In case you’re having a difficult time making up your mind, let me remind you why Doris and Rachel married who they did. It was because we lived in this lovely anti-Semitic neighborhood, in this place…Who could they have brought home? Who did they come in contact with? Father Gallagher? If you think I’m going to allow you to make the same mistake with Lillian, you’re mistaken.”
In spite of himself Jacob had to admit there was some truth in what she was saying. Lillian
was sixteen and soon she’d be grown. What chances did she have here? He didn’t want her to wind up the way Rachel and Doris had, one with a goyisher old man and the other with a weak failure…Suddenly he began to see other reasons for the move. He had been so hell-bent on providing his family the security that he’d never had that the source of that security—the plant—had been all that mattered. But he was rich now and there was only Lillian left. Didn’t he owe himself something too…?
“All right, sell the damn place, but I want to buy a house!”
“Oh, no. I want a doorman to park my Pierce Arrow, carry up the groceries, and announce the guests. Why not? What’s good enough for my daughter is good enough for me…This time it’s going to be a little my way…and as long as we’re talking, you’re going to give me an allowance every month too.”
He swallowed hard, face reddening. “How much do you—?”
Sara knew she for once had the upper hand about money. Obviously he wouldn’t have agreed to move if he didn’t want to…and he wasn’t going to do it alone…“Five hundred dollars a month.”
Jack was staggered. “Five hundred a—”
“Yes.”
“What in God’s name do you need that much for? I pay all the bills—”
“Is that so? Well, I’ll pay my own personal bills from now on. You’re not going to continue to interrogate me about everything I buy…no more doling out nickels and dimes, not after twenty-three years of marriage, thank you very much.”
Jacob hated the idea of the confinement of an apartment, but Sara plunged ahead and somehow ended up selecting one on the corner opposite Rachel’s building. It was really a coincidence, she told herself, but she wanted to live on Nob Hill and especially at the Park Lane. The building, she was pleased to see, was just as prestigious as the Brocklebank, and the rooms and floor plans were much the same. The apartment could accommodate three live-in maids, but for the time being she settled for one.
She was a changed woman, but the fact that Jacob had given in to her demands was not exactly the victory she thought it was. Once the realization he was a wealthy man had caught up with him, he too wanted to live according to his means.
He walked along the aisles of Gains Walrath’s Fine Furniture Company on Post Street feeling as if he owned the world. Suddenly he found that nothing was quite good enough for him. As in the case of most born agains, he went to the opposite extreme.
The Italian diningroom furniture would take four months to be carved and shipped from Florence, but Jacob had fallen in love with the massive high-backed chairs, the enormous buffet, the exquisitely carved china cabinet. As he sat in the host’s seat and looked down the long refectory table, he felt like a conquering hero returned from the wars, victorious over poverty. Poland seemed very far away, as did Ludlow and Rivington Streets. His bubbe and zayde’s house was now only a vague childhood memory. Mostly they would be something to boast about when he reminisced about his rise to wealth and how he had overcome all obstacles. Yes, indeed, he was beginning to like the feel of luxury very much, especially when he walked on the thick Persian rugs and looked at the fine painting that would hang on his wall.
Sara stood to one side, amazed at the transformation in him. But what amazed her most was his innate good taste. It was impeccable. So Sara let him select what he wanted. And what he wanted was more than she would have ever dreamed of asking for. He insisted they buy the best and most expensive sterling silver tea set, as well as the candelabra and crystal.
Sara remembered her feelings when Rachel’s wedding boxes began arriving from Gump’s—how she’d admired and frankly envied the contents, never even daring to dream that she would not only be living across the street from her daughter but that her possessions would be comparable.
It had been a long way from that time to this, she thought. Things could change. People could change. Jacob was a living example.
They had been living in the apartment for four months now. Sara spoke to Rachel on occasion, but never did she suggest a visit. She would show Rachel that she too could be independent.
Except Rachel didn’t feel neglected—to the contrary. She had established an extensive social life—which mama just wasn’t a part of—and she could do as she pleased without having to explain or make excuses. Mama’s “punishment,” in fact, had been a blessing, helping as it had to set her free. Thanks to mama, she was able to separate herself from the family without feeling the kind of guilt that, for example, Doris did.
Sara herself was preoccupied with her decorator and her trips to Elizabeth Arden’s Salon, and then there was her regimen of body massage and facial treatments. She managed to phone Doris, of course, but she had become a very busy woman. Lillian was also included in Sara’s concerns. She bought her a beaver coat and carefully selected her clothes and her diet. She was sent to Hamlin’s School for Girls, where she would make the kind of friends Sara felt were essential to her future. Lillian was her last hope, and she was going to make sure that her daughter’s destiny was turned in the right direction. She was going to mold one of her three daughters to suit. Lillian, at least, was going to love her.
Jacob was traveling more and more, but Sara’s life was so full that she found herself not resenting or even missing him.
She attended concerts, theater, opera and the ballet with Lillian. San Francisco, it turned out, was where she belonged. Oh, the wasted years—but she refused to look back. This was a time to savor; she had been redeemed…
With the apartment finally complete, Sara was now ready to invite the family. She sat at her marquetry desk, making out a guest list. It was rather foolish since she really had no outside friends and knew exactly whom she would invite, but the idea of a guest list intrigued her. It included Nadine and her family, although she certainly had no special love for them. Doris, of course. But before she finished the list and made up a menu befitting a state dinner, she wanted to make sure that Rachel could come. Otherwise she’d call it off and set a different date. She was going, by God, to show the Rosses the way the Sanderses lived. Of course, she’d have to be careful not to mention that Nadine and Sandy were coming. Rachel felt awkward with them, she knew, although she’d never understood the reason for it.
Sara now dialed the number and greeted Rachel as if they’d just spoken yesterday, although it was actually some weeks since their last conversation. “Good morning, Rachel. I hope I’m not calling too early?”
“Well…we were out rather late last night so I was sort of indulging myself…but it’s nice hearing from you, mama. How’ve you been?”
“Never better. Thank God the apartment is finally done. Waiting for that damned set drove me mad. But your father had to have that set, and no other.”
“I’m sure it was worth waiting for.”
“Well, yes, it’s nice. As long as your father likes it…Rachel, I’m having just the immediate family to dinner for the first time and I want to know if you’ll be free on October twelfth.”
Rachel hesitated, knowing mama was bursting at the seams to show off the wonders she had achieved. “As a matter of fact, mama, we are free.”
“I’m delighted, make it seven.”
“Thank you for inviting us. Send my best to papa…”
“I will.”
After hanging up, Rachel called Gump’s and sent mama and papa a silver-plated chafing dish for one hundred and fifty dollars. Now they were, in a way, even. She smiled, knowing mama would get the message…
Sara next proceeded to issue the rest of the invitations. When she called Doris she told her that everyone was wearing long dresses.
“Why, mama?”
“Because it’s a very special night—our housewarming. And you know Rachel would never go out to dinner in a short dress—”
“Well, I think that’s lovely, except I’d really like to wear a short one.”
“No, I want it to be formal. And besides, you look best in long.”
What the hell was she going to wear,
Doris wondered. Well, it would have to be her heirloom, the one she wore the night of Sylvia Silverman’s surprise party. Which had really turned out to be her own party. That was the night, after all, that Henry had asked her to dance, and in a way she was still recovering from the surprise of it…“Okay, mama, anything you say.”
The night Sara had fantasized so long was about to begin. She dressed in her new flowered chiffon and considered which of her new jewels to wear. Jacob had stumbled into a great deal of jewelry for nineteen hundred dollars, which he had insisted on having remounted. She didn’t quite understand why and it had irked her at the time, but the new settings were every bit as beautiful as the originals. Among the cache were a diamond bracelet, a large ruby and diamond pin, a wide gold bracelet and earrings, a dinner ring, and a five-carat diamond ring for himself.
Jacob was handsomely outfitted in a velvet maroon smoking jacket with satin lapels, patent leather shoes, a white shirt and black trousers. A regular Beau Brummell, yet.
Sara went to Lillian’s room and looked approvingly at the hyacinth-blue taffeta dress. Lillian’s startling black hair and her makeup were done just right.
The doorbell rang at seven. Doris and Henry—who stood speechless. This couldn’t be mama! She hadn’t seen her mother in the four months since the move, but they talked on the phone frequently and not once had mama mentioned she’d become a blonde. She looked stunning, no question.
“Come in, don’t stand there like you saw a ghost.” Sara was smiling at Doris, but she was thinking how heavy she still was and wondering why had she worn that dress?
When Doris saw papa and Lillian her astonishment was complete. The three of them looked like they’d just stepped out of a Noel Coward play.
“I can’t get over you, mama.”
“Is that good or bad?”
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