Portraits

by Cynthia Freeman

  “No, I think I’ve just about covered everything, except…to let you know that Michele and her fiancé are coming home this weekend so we can meet him.”

  “Mazel tov, I can hardly wait. Naches like this I’d never thought I’d have. Now I’m going to bed…and I think that you should write a story about how to be a Jewish mother.”

  “I can’t do that, Henry, it’s already been done.”

  “So sue me, I’m not up on my literature.” After kissing her on the cheek, he smiled and said goodnight before he went up to their room.

  Doris went to her desk, rolled a sheet of paper into the typewriter and began an article:

  ON BECOMING THE PERFECT JEWISH MOTHER-IN-LAW

  1. Keep your ladle out of your daughter-in-law’s chicken soup.

  2. Ask for her delicious chicken liver recipe but eliminate the mayonnaise and use the traditional chicken schmaltz. If you keep your Jewish mouth shut, she’ll never know the difference…

  High literature, she said to herself, and settled in for the night…

  CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

  DORIS HAD RARELY BEEN in better voice or form than this day. While Maria, the cleaning lady, went about her chores, Doris was busy in the kitchen, working amid a clutter of mixing bowls and pots. She sang happily as she poured the noodle kugel into the casserole. To strains of “On the Sunny Side of the Street,” she took the sponge cake out of the oven and sliced it for the base of a strawberry shortcake.

  When the table was set, she stood back and observed and was taken back to a long-ago afternoon…she’d just left Rachel’s, and she recalled now the longing she’d felt wandering through the china department at Gump’s, never daring to hope she’d have anything. But God had been generous to her, the talent she’d been given had helped make today’s luxury possible…The service plates and crystal goblets, the silver bread-and-butter dishes, the Minton china, the candelabra, the epergne filled with roses…all had been bought with the money she had earned, and the feeling was good. But the greatest luxury of all was that her children were going to be together with Henry and herself tonight. This was a very special Shabbes indeed.

  At four that afternoon she went upstairs to shower. As she looked at her reflection in the mirror she also thought how far she’d come from that fat, frustrated, curly-haired girl of eighteen that Henry had married. She’d come to terms with life since then. The hope of being reunited with her family had been put in its proper place; she knew after all these years that there would never be a great reconciliation. She had shed tears but she had also built a life from them. It wasn’t a question of resignation, but of facing the realities of her life. She accepted Henry as he was. If, after all this time, he had not developed intellectually or grown financially, it would be foolish to think things would change now. Dreaming was self-defeating. No, the compromises, the adjustments to reality were better.

  Tonight Henry would sit at the head of his table as the father and man of the house. Although she and Henry had little in common, he was still a kind man who loved and adored her as always, and it was a very good and treasured feeling. His obstinacy about Gary was something she just couldn’t seem to help him to overcome, but there too she met Henry on his terms, as she did herself. For all the struggles, she had managed to hold onto the house and to help send Gary to college—and now, with the help of God, Michele would at long last find a happy life for herself. Today she felt a sense of peace. Her stories were more in demand than ever and her contribution to the family income had increased accordingly. She was hardly the female counterpart of Shakespeare, but she accepted herself and recognized her own limitations. When a story was good she knew it, and when it wasn’t she tore it up. The standards she set for herself were hers, no better, no worse…

  A little after five o’clock Henry found her with an apron on over her chiffon hostess gown, arranging the gefilte fish with a sprig of parsley and a piece of carrot on top. She looked radiant and excited. Kissing her, he said, “Why don’t you let Maria do it?”

  “Oh, darling, she’s filling the water glasses and thank God she’s here to serve. Now, Henry, please be a darling, go upstairs and get washed, then set up the bar…Oh God, Henry, I’m so nervous I can’t stand it. What time is it, dear?”

  “About five-fifteen. You know something, Doris? I have to give myself a little credit…I always knew you were beautiful, but you’re even improving with age.”

  “With the steel-gray hair I still look young and beautiful? I was thinking of changing it to red.”

  “Do that and you’ve just lost the most wonderful husband in the world.”

  She kissed him once again. “In that case, I’ll keep this color. Now, please hurry up. Michele should be here soon.”

  She put the fish back into the refrigerator, turned down the temperature of the oven, basted the chickens, and stood thinking for a moment, wondering if there was anything she’d forgotten. Then she took off her apron, washed her hands and walked into the den.

  “Henry, you want me to get you the ice?”

  “Honey, calm down. I’ll take care of everything.”

  “I’m calm, Henry, I’m really very calm.”

  “I could tell the minute I came home.”

  She walked from room to room, fluffed up the pillows, arranged one daffodil that seemed to be a little out of place, then went back to the den. “You think everything looks all right, Henry?”

  “What are you making such a big thing out of this for? When did anything not look all right?”

  Before she could answer, the doorbell rang.

  “Oh, my God, they’re here.” She ran to the front door and there was Michele, dressed in a Kelly-green suede pants suit with a black mink coat hanging over her arm. Doris was about to say, “You look gorgeous…” But then she saw Eliot, dressed in his best cowboy finery, including high-heeled tooled boots and a Stetson that sat on his head at the perfect angle.

  The two of them looked so incongruous that it took every bit of Doris’ self-discipline not to break into laughter. For a moment her thoughts went back to the little girl who had sat in the Golden State Theater, watching William S. Hart and knowing how much she loved him.

  Michele was kissing her mother and saying, “Mama, I want you to meet Eliot.”

  Who immediately planted a big juicy kiss on Doris’ cheek, then held her at arm’s length. “You got to be kidding, this isn’t your mother. Why, she’s the most beautiful thing I ever saw in my life.”

  Laughing, Michele said, “That’s what you said about me. Can’t you make up your mind?”

  “I did that the first night I met you…but to think there are two of you. Boy, this is a shock. I wasn’t sure what I was going to call you, but it sure isn’t going to be ma.”

  Doris laughed delightedly.

  “I knew I was going to like you a whole lot,” he went on.

  “Same here. Now let’s go into the den. I want you to meet Henry.”

  Henry was just preparing the bar glasses when he looked up at Eliot. Oh, my God, he thought, we’ve got Gene Autry in the family. He looks like he just came from the rodeo.

  Michele embraced her father. “Oh, dad, I’m so glad to see you.”

  “Yes…me too,” still staring at Eliot.

  “Let me introduce you to Eliot.”

  Any further thoughts of likes or dislikes were banished when Eliot shook his hand warmly and said, “Michele talks about you a lot. I’m very glad to finally meet you, doctor.”

  “Thank you…likewise. What would you like to drink?”

  “Just anything, bourbon, gin, vodka…anything.”

  “Daddy, can you make martinis?”

  Doris was already into the kitchen to bring back a jar of olives.

  As Henry began mixing the drinks, Michele said, “Dad, Eliot makes great martinis. Would you mind?”

  “Not at all, but I’ll have bourbon and Seven-Up.”

  “Doris, how about you?” Eliot asked.

  “I�
�ll have one of your specials.”

  When the drinks were served, Doris raised her glass in a toast. “Congratulations to both of you. I can’t tell you how happy Henry and I are that you’re with us this evening.”

  “Well, Michele didn’t have to urge me too much. I couldn’t wait to meet her family.”

  “Thank you,” Doris said, her face suddenly very serious.

  As she went into the kitchen to get the chopped liver, Michele followed her.

  “What do you think of him, mama?”

  “He’s everything you said and more.”

  “I’m so happy you like him.”

  While Doris and Michele were in the kitchen Eliot went to work on thawing Henry out. What every man liked best was to discuss his business, so…

  Before Henry had realized Eliot’s strategy he had launched into the saga of how he had arrived in San Francisco with twelve dollars in his pocket, started the office and…Henry had succumbed to Eliot’s charm. In fact he had almost forgotten he was a goy.

  A little after six-thirty Michele said, “Where are Gary and Robin?”

  Doris laughed. “They’ll be here soon. Robin had to wait until sundown before leaving, so that she could light her candles. She’s turned into a regular rebbitsin, but they should be here any minute.”

  As predicted, the doorbell rang minutes later and Doris hurried to the door. She kissed Robin and Gary then led them to the den, carrying little Mordechai in her arms.

  After all the introductions were made, Robin said, “Here, mom, let me take the baby and put him to bed upstairs. He’s already had his Shabbes dinner.” …

  When they were seated, the gefilte fish was already on the table.

  Eliot took a bite and said, “Boy, these are the best damn fish cakes I ever tasted.”

  Henry paused momentarily, then continued to eat without looking up.

  “It’s gefilte fish, dear,” Michele whispered.

  “Is that so? Well, best damn gefilte fish I ever tasted…”

  Maria removed the fish plates while Doris carried in the silver tureen of chicken soup and matzo balls and ladled it out.

  “You’ve got to get the recipe for this, Michele,” Eliot said when he tasted the soup. “These are the best dumplings I ever had.”

  Again, Henry swallowed hard.

  “They’re called matzo balls, dear,” Michele told him.

  Henry was the only one who was disturbed by Eliot’s gaffes. For Doris, this occasion was deeply satisfying. The hardships she had survived had brought her to this moment. She not only had a family gathered around her but a family that promised to grow. Imagine, she even had a grandchild sleeping upstairs—it was as though the family denied her in her life was now richly compensated for…

  As they sat having coffee, Gary said, “We have an announcement to make.”

  Doris and Henry looked at him expectantly—Henry thinking, My God, maybe he’s changed his mind and is going to become a doctor…and Doris hoping that this one would be a girl.

  “Yes, Gary? What’s the announcement?” Doris prompted.

  “Well, this is going to be a bit of a shock to you but…we’re moving to Israel.”

  Doris and Henry could only stare for a moment. Then, finding her voice, Doris asked, “Why?”

  “For one thing, because there’s a great need for engineers there.”

  Before he could go on, Henry said, “What’s the matter, in America they don’t use engineers anymore? What kind of nonsense is this? You’re Americans. How can you go to live in Israel?”

  Robin answered, “Dad, the only place you can really be a Jew is in Israel.”

  “Why, there’s not enough Jews for you here in the United States?”

  “But it’s not the same. We’ve thought this over very carefully, dad. Gary and I want to go live on a kibbutz in the Negev. That’s why we named the baby Mordechai…we knew it even then. There’s a quality of life there that we just don’t have in the United States.”

  “I think this whole thing is crazy,” Henry said. “Where would Israel be without the contributions of money from American Jews?”

  Gary interjected, “It would have been a lot harder for them, but we weren’t doing anything so noble, dad…If there had been the State of Israel during Hitler’s time, six million Jews wouldn’t have been annihilated…You might as well know the whole truth. We’ve also become Zionists.”

  “Zionists!” Henry rasped.

  “Yes, dad. I’m not saying that every Jew should be a Zionist, but it happens to be right for us. I’m sorry if you don’t approve, but we have to do what’s best for us, follow through on our own beliefs.”

  Doris sat thinking back on all the years and all the worries she’d had over her children. Somehow the Book of Ruth came to mind…“for whither thou goest, I will go…Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.” How ashamed she was this evening that she had questioned Gary’s judgment the night he told them about marrying Robin. Well, Israel wasn’t really so far away. Woodside, California, was a lot closer and she hadn’t seen her parents in over twenty years. “I think we should raise our glasses to Robin and Gary for the part they want to play in maintaining our heritage. I love and admire you both very much.”

  Gary came around and kissed his mother. She looked very special to him tonight; he knew the conflicts and the pride she was feeling. Then he went to his father, put his arms around him and said, “Dad, thanks for everything. I’m very proud to have a father like you.”

  “And I’m proud to be your father,” he said, and he genuinely meant it. He wasn’t really angry with their decision. It was more that he knew how much he would miss them. How much he and Doris both would miss them. My God, what’s wrong…If Gary had married Barbara Levy he’d probably never have moved, would have settled down here. So he marries a goyisheh maidel who converts and becomes more Jewish than any of them. She even wants her country to be Jewish…

  Doris looked on, also thinking of the ironies of life. Her mother and father had come to America from the old country, but papa had divorced himself from the beliefs he had once held so dear. And yet here were Gary and Robin, who had the faith papa had lost and were going to fight to perpetuate it…“Have you decided when you’re leaving?”

  “In about two months, I think…Incidentally, you’ll have to address your Chanukah cards to Mordechai Ben Lev.”

  Doris laughed. “And what are you going to be, Mr. and Mrs. Gary Ben Lev?”

  “No, I’m changing my name to Ari, and Robin’s will be Rahel.”

  Eliot picked up his glass and said, “I think we should all drink to Rahel and Ari, keepers of the faith. In the words of my dear friends the Kaufmans, Mazel tov and L’chayim.”

  Michele looked at him lovingly. This extraordinary man seemed to understand it all.

  Six months had passed. Doris had waved good-by to two of her children, going off to a new world, and today she and Henry had just arrived at Eliot’s ranch for their daughter’s wedding.

  Chang Lee’s wife had prepared a room for the Levins and for the sake of propriety Michele had been moved from Eliot’s room to a room down the hall. If Henry had guessed that this wasn’t the first time Michele was sleeping in Eliot’s home, he gave no indication.

  That night they gave a dinner party for Doris and Henry. The Kaufmans were present, along with a number of Eliot’s close friends. At seven-thirty, Eliot’s father arrived. Ben Burns was a tall husky man who lived in a sprawling ranch house at the east end of the property with Juanita, his housekeeper-mistress of twenty years.

  Two days later the house was prepared for the wedding. Michele hadn’t told her parents that she was to be married by a rabbi, but when he arrived to perform the ceremony she could see the pleasure and gratitude in their faces. When the rabbi pronounced them man and wife and Eliot embraced his Jewish bride, dressed in violet Chantilly lace, Doris and Henry looked on with tears in their eyes. God was in his heaven, all indeed was right with the world.


  That night the newlyweds spent their honeymoon in Eliot’s room, while Doris and Henry were sequestered in their room at the other end of the long hall. As Doris lay awake she thought, Good Lord, how the world had moved on. It seemed only yesterday that Rachel, Lillian and herself were sitting in a Dodge truck on the Fourth of July, going to Alum Rock. She thought about the letter she’d received last week from Rachel, who was living part of the year in New York to be near her son Larry, who had married the daughter of an illustrious banker…Imagine what mama and papa had missed. They not only had grandchildren whom they had never seen, but even a little great-grandson by the name of Mordechai Ben Lev. What a pity to be deprived of such satisfactions because of anger and pride. These joys could have enriched their lives. That’s what families were really all about, growing together and sharing the blessings and sorrows and love…

  The wedding breakfast was real Western style, with pancakes, oatmeal, hash browns, eggs, slabs of ham, country-churned butter, biscuits and honey.

  Doris, smiling broadly at Eliot, said, “This has got to be the best damn ham I ever tasted.”

  “Sorry, Doris, that’s kosher corned beef,” he said.

  “Best damn corned beef I ever tasted.” …

  As soon as the plane back to San Francisco was airborne, Doris turned to Henry as she put her hand over his. “I think our Michele’s got herself quite a man this time, don’t you, honey?”

  “I always said you were smart, Doris, and even if you do outtalk me, you always have the right answers. He sure is quite a man. How they got the rabbi to marry them I’ll never know.”

  “Oh, I have a feeling that Eliot can accomplish most anything he puts his mind to.”

  “Well, let’s just hope and pray that they have a good life.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  HENRY’S HOPES AND PRAYERS during the next year were more than realized. Michele found life with Eliot as close to heaven as anything on earth could be.

  Often she would recall the first week of their marriage, which Eliot considered “the best damn honeymoon” in the world. They had spent the week touring the ranch, but it was impossible to cover the entire seven thousand acres in that little time.