“They concern the well-being of this family. Would you see your father’s reputation ruined because you chose to marry a Jewess?”
“Why must everyone assume I mean to marry the girl? I’ve only just met her and I thought she was a lovely creature with a fiery spirit.”
“So I’m not the only one to broach this subject, eh? Perhaps I’m not the lunatic you make me out to be.” Eugenia’s face held a smug regard for her nephew.
“I’ve never thought you to be a lunatic, Aunt Eugenia. Mettlesome and snobbish, yes, but never a lunatic.”
“Well!” It seemed the only thing she could say.
Pierce continued, “I will go to your charity balls and I will allow you to parade me before your society friends. I will use the proper silver and talk the proper talk. I will dance with impeccable skill and dress strictly in fashion, but I will not be dictated to in regards to the woman I will choose as my wife. Is that clear?”
“You have to marry a woman of your standing. To marry beneath your station will do this family a discredit. Then, too, imagine the complications of marrying a pauper. You must marry a woman of means and increase the empire your father has already begun.”
Pierce could take no more. He walked to the door and opened it as a signal to his aunt that the conversation was at an end. “I will marry for love, respect, admiration, and attraction, be that woman of Jewish heritage or not. I seem to recall the Word of God saying we are all the same in the eyes of the Lord, and that whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord will be saved. I realize the importance of marrying a woman who loves God as I do, and if that woman should turn out to be a Jewess who embraces Christianity and recognizes Christ as the true Messiah, I shan’t give her social standing or bank account a single thought.”
Eugenia stepped into the hall, clearly disturbed by Pierce’s strong stand. “You’d do well to remember the things of importance in this world.”
“I might say the same for you, Aunt. My father admonishes me to marry a woman of Christian faith, and that is clearly set in Scripture. By what means do you base your beliefs?” He closed the door without allowing her to reply and drew a deep breath. “I’ve only just met the girl,” he muttered to himself,“yet everyone has me married to her already.”
Chapter 3
And it shall be, if thou do at all forget the Lord thy God,and walk after other gods, and serve them, and worship them,I testify against you this day that ye shall surely perish.
Deuteronomy 8:19
Nearly a week after her encounter with Pierce Blackwell, Darlene felt herself getting back in the routine of her life. She could almost ignore the image of the handsome man when he appeared in her daydreams, but it was at night when he haunted her the most. And in those dreams, Darlene found that she couldn’t ignore the feelings he elicited inside her. Never in her life had she given men much thought. Her father urged her to seek her heart on the matter and to find a decent man and settle down. He spoke of wanting grandchildren and such, but Darlene knew that down deep inside he was really worried about her, should something happen to him.
“Tateh,” she called, gathering on her coat and warm woolen bonnet. “I’m leaving to go to Esther’s.”
Abraham peered up from his cutting board. “You should not go out on such a cold day.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s just down the street. You worry too much.” She smiled and held up a bundle. “We’re making baby clothes for Rachel Bronstein.” Her father nodded and gave her a little wave. “I’ll be back in time to dish up supper. Don’t work too hard.”
She hurried out of the building, firmly closing the door that stated “Lewy & Co.” behind her. It was a brisk February morning and the skies were a clear, pale blue overhead. The color reminded Darlene of watered silk. Not that she ever had occasion to own anything made from such material, but once she’d seen a gown made of such cloth in a store window.
The sky was a sharp contrast to the muddy mess of the streets below. Gingerly, Darlene picked her way down the street, trying her best to avoid the larger mud holes. The hem of her petticoats and skirt quickly soaked up the muck and mud, but she tried not to fret. No one at Esther’s would care because their skirts would be just as messy as hers.
The noises of the street were like music to her ears. Bells ringing in the distance signaled the coming of the charcoal vendor. She’d not be needing him to stop today, and so she only gave him a brief nod when he passed by.
“Fresh milk! Freeeesh milk!” another man called from his wagon. Cans of milk rattled in the wagonbed behind him and Darlene grimaced. She had never gotten used to what she deemed “city milk.” It wasn’t anywhere near as rich as what she’d been used to in Germany. Rumor had it that dairymen in the city were highly abusive with their animals, and that not only were the conditions unsanitary and unsavory, but the cows were also fed on a hideous variety of waste products. Vegetable peelings, whiskey distillery mesh, and ground fish bones were among the things she’d heard were used to feed New York’s dairy cows. Even thinking of such a thing made her shudder.
A young boy struggled by with bundles of wood over each shoulder. “Wood, here! Wood!” Behind him another boy labored to entice a mule to bring up the wood-ladened cart.
All around her, the smells of the city and of the working class made Darlene feel a warmth and security that she couldn’t explain. She thought of the people who lived in their fine brick houses on Broadway and wondered if they could possibly be as happy as she was. Did fine laces and silks make a home as full of love as she had with her father? Certainly not, she mused and jumped back just in time to avoid being run over by a herd of pigs as they were driven down the street.
Let the rich have their silks and laces. Her life with Tateh was sweet and they had all that they needed—the Holy One, blessed be He! But in the back of her mind Darlene remembered her father’s conversation with Dennison Blackwell and then her own with Pierce. It was as though another world had suddenly collided with hers. Pierce knew what it was to live in fine luxury. He could have figures in his head with complete ease, and he was more than a little bit handsome.
Esther’s tiny house came into view. It was there, tucked between a leather goods shop and a cabinetmaker, and although it was small, it served the old widow well. Trying to scrape the greater portion of mud from her boots, Darlene gave a little knock at the door.
A tiny old woman opened the door. She was dressed in black from head to toe, with nothing but a well-worn white apron to break the severity. Her gray hair was tightly wound into a bun at the back of her neck, leaving her wrinkled face to stand out in stark abandonment. “Ah, Darlene, you have come. Good. Good. I told Rachel and Dvorah you would be here.”
“The streets are a mess. If you take my things, I’ll leave my boots here at the door.”
“Nonsense!” Esther declared. “The floor will sweep. Come inside and sit by the fire. You are nearly frozen.” The old woman led her into the sitting room. “See Rachel, our Hava has come.” Hava was Darlene’s Hebrew name.
Rachel, looking as though she were in her eleventh month of pregnancy, struggled up from her chair and waddled over to Darlene. Bending as far over as she could to avoid her enormous stomach, Rachel kissed Darlene on each cheek and smiled.
“I was afraid you would be too busy. Hayyim told my husband the shop is near to bursting with customers.”
“Yes, the rich goyim have come to extend their social season wardrobes. They won’t have us at their parties, but they wear our suits!” Darlene said with much sarcasm.
“Who would want to go to a Gentile party, anyway?” Esther said, taking Darlene’s coat. “You couldn’t eat the food.”
“Feh! Kashruth is such a bother anyway! We’d just as well be rid of it, if you ask me,” a dark-headed woman said, entering behind Esther.
“Ah, but what does God say about it, Dvorah?”
Dvorah was much more worldly than the rest of the woman Darlene knew. Her father was a wealthy me
rchant and could trace back a family history in New York nearly one hundred years. Nevertheless, they were Jewish and no matter how liberally they acted among the Gentiles, they would never be accepted as one of them.
“I leave God’s words to my father’s mouth,” Dvorah replied, swishing her lavender gown with great emphasis. “I’m much busier with other things.” She smiled sweetly over her shoulder before picking up her sewing.
“We all know what Dvorah is busy with,” Esther said in a disapproving tone. “And I tell you, it is an honest shame to watch a young woman of your upbringing chase after the men the way you do. You need to refrain yourself from acting so forward, Dvorah. Your mother, oy vey! What she must go through.”
Dvorah shrugged, indifferent to Esther’s interfering ways. Darlene saw this as a good opportunity to change the subject. “So, Rachel, how are you feeling?”
By this time Rachel had waddled back to her chair and was even now trying to get comfortable. “I’m fine. Just fine. The baby should come any day and since you’ve been so good to help me sew, he will have a fine assortment of clothes to wear.”
“What ‘he’?” Esther questioned. “So sure you are that the child is a male?”
Rachel blushed and Darlene thought she looked perfectly charming. “Shemuel says it will be a boy.”
Esther grunted. “Your husband doesn’t know everything.”
“May God make it so,” Darlene proclaimed.
The women worked companionably for several hours and when the hall clock chimed noon, Esther offered them something to eat and drink. They were gathered around the table enjoying a fine stew when Esther brought up the one subject Darlene had hoped to avoid.
“So how is it with your father?”
“He’s well, thank you.” She slathered fresh butter on bread still warm from Esther’s oven and took a bite.
Esther narrowed her eyes and leaned forward. “I’ve heard it said that he’s talking matters of God with the goyim.”
How Esther managed to know every private detail of everyone’s life was beyond Darlene, but she always managed to be right on top of everything. She swallowed hard. “My father has many customers and, of course, they speak on many matters.”
Esther looked at Darlene with an expression of pity. “Hayyim said that there are talks of why the Christians believe we are wrong in not accepting their Messiah.”
“Hayyim should honor my father’s goodness to him and remain silent on matters of gossip.” Darlene knew her defense was weak, but what could she say? To admit that her father’s conversations concerned her would only fuel Esther’s inquisitive nature.
“So has Avrom betrayed the faith of his fathers?” Esther questioned, calling Abraham by his Yiddish name.
“Never!” Darlene declared, overturning her tea cup. It was like all of her worst fears were realized in that statement. Without warning, tears welled in her eyes.
Rachel reached out a hand to pat Darlene lovingly. “There, there,” she comforted, “Of course Avrom would not betray our faith.”
At this Darlene choked back a sob. “He talks with Mr. Blackwell.” It was all she could manage to say, and for some reason it seemed to her that it should be enough.
“It will not bode well, I tell you,” Esther commented, refilling Darlene’s cup.
Rachel ignored Esther. “Why are you so upset? Has your father said something that causes you to worry?”
Darlene shook her head. “No, but. . .well,” she paused, taking time to dry her eyes. “I can’t explain it. I just have this feeling that something is changing. I try to tell myself that I’m just imagining it, but I feel so frightened.”
“And well you should. If Avrom turns from his faith he will perish,” Esther declared.
“Oh, hush with that,” Dvorah replied. “Darlene does not need to hear such talk.”
“There will be plenty to hear about once word gets around,” Esther said rather smugly.
“Yes, and no doubt you will help to see it on its way!” Dvorah’s exasperation was apparent. “Leave her be. Come, Darlene, I’ll walk you home andthe air will cool your face.” She got up from the table without waiting for Darlene’s reply.
Esther shook her head in disapproval. “You should speak with the cantor, Hava.”
Their congregation was too small to support a rabbi, and Ruven Singer, a good and godly man, took on the role of cantor for their group. He led the prayers on Shabbes and was always available to advise his people regarding God’s law.
“Mr. Singer could speak with Avrom, if you’re worried,” Rachel offered.
Darlene nodded and drew a deep breath to steady her nerves. She accepted her coat from Dvorah, who even now was doing up the buttons on a lovely fur-trimmed cape. After enduring another suggestion or two from Esther and a sincere thank you from Rachel for the baby clothes, Darlene followed Dvorah outside.
“That old woman!” Dvorah declared. “Busybody Esther should be her name!”
This made Darlene smile. “She always seems to know exactly what everyone is up to. I don’t dare make a wrong move with her only two blocks away.”
Dvorah laughed. “She told me my dress was too exciting. Six inches of mud on the hem and she thinks I’m dressing too fine.”
“It is lovely.” Darlene had thought so from the first moment she’d laid eyes on it, but with Esther, who would dare to say such a thing?
“Thank you. Oh, look, a hack. I’d much rather be driven home than walk.” She waved her handbag once and the driver brought the carriage to a stop. “Don’t forget what I said.” Dvorah waved from the hack and then was gone.
“I won’t,” Darlene muttered to no one. But already, thoughts of the luncheon conversation were racing through her mind. So much so, in fact, that as Darlene set out to cross the muddy, bottomless street, she didn’t see the freight wagon bearing down on her.
Just as she looked up to catch sight of the horses’ steaming nostrils, Darlene felt strong arms roughly encircle her and pull her to safety. Gazing up in stunned surprise, she nearly fainted at the serious, almost angry expression on Pierce Blackwell’s face.
“Were you trying to get yourself killed?” he asked. Then without waiting for her reply he pulled her against him and asked, “Are you all right? You didn’t get hurt, did you?”
“No. I mean yes.” She shook her head and sighed. “I’m fine. You can let me go now.” He only tightened his hold and Darlene actually found herself glad that he did. Her legs felt like limp dishrags and she wasn’t at all certain that she could have walked on her own accord.
“Let’s get you inside and make sure you’re all right,” he half-carried, half-dragged her the remaining distance to the Lewy & Co. door. Opening it, Pierce thrust her inside and immediately called for her father.
“Mr. Lewy!”
“Don’t!” Darlene exclaimed, trying to wrench free from Pierce. “You’ll scare him out of ten years of life.”
Pierce ignored her complaint. Abraham hurried into the room with a look of concern on his face. His gaze passed first to the man who had called his name and then to the pale face of his daughter.
“What is it? What is wrong?”
“Nothing, Tateh. I’m fine.” Darlene hoped that by hurrying such an explanation, her father would breathe easier.
“She was nearly killed by a freighter,” Pierce replied. “I believe she was daydreaming and didn’t even see him coming. There was no way the poor man could have stopped.”
“I’m fine, Tateh. I’m just fine.”
Abraham seemed to relax a bit. “You are certain?”
“Absolutely. I wouldn’t lie to you.” Darlene smiled sweetly, more than a little aware that Pierce watched her intently.
With the moment of crisis in the past, Abraham turned his gaze to Pierce. “You saved my Havele. You have my thanks and never endinggratitude.”
Pierce looked at him with a blank expression of confusion. “Havele?”
“Hava is Hebrew. It means E
ve. Havele is just a way of saying it a little more intimately. Perhaps you would say, Evie?”
“But I thought, I mean, I remember my father saying her name isDarlene.”
“Don’t talk about me as though I’m not here!” Darlene suddenly exclaimed. Gone was the fear from her encounter with the freighter. “My mother liked the name Darlene and that is what I’m called. Now please let me go.”
At this, Pierce released her with a beaming smile that unnerved her. He bowed slightly, as if to dismiss the matter, but Abraham would have nothing of it.
“I have no fitting way to reward you,” he began, “but I shall make for you six new suits and charge you not one penny.”
“Tateh, no!” Darlene declared without thinking of how ungrateful she must sound. She knew full well the cost of six suits and while they were living comfortably at this point, there was no telling what tomorrow could bring. They shouldn’t become indebted to this man.
But they were indebted. Pierce Blackwell had saved her life.
It was only then that the gravity of the situation began to sink in. With a new look of wonder and a sensation of confused feelings, Darlene lifted her face to meet Pierce’s. “I’m sorry, I just mean that suits hardly seem a proper thanks.”
“I completely agree,” Pierce replied. “And that is why I must say no. I did not rescue your daughter for a new wardrobe. I have funds aplenty for such things. I happened to be here because I have a fitting appointment. God ordains such intercessory matters, don’t you think?”
“I do, indeed,” Abraham said and nodded with a smile. “I do, indeed.”
His acceptance of Pierce’s words only gave Darlene reason to worry anew. It was exactly these matters that had caused her to walk in front of the freighter. Certainly such thoughts could only cause more trouble. What if her father thought Pierce’s God was more important and more capable of dealing with matters? What if her father gave himself over to the teachings of the Christians! Esther’s words came back to haunt her. He will perish, Darlene thought. God would turn His face away from her beloved Tateh and he would surely die.
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