In the Unlikely Event (25 page)

Featuring the Finest

In Sleepwear.

Elegance Is Our Motto.

Broad Street

Elizabeth

19

Christina

Christina was at the store, helping her mother and sister get ready for Valentine's Day. They would soon be hosting a special evening for gentlemen only to choose gifts for their wives, even their girlfriends. Nia wasn't crazy about the idea but Athena convinced her to give it a try. “Stop worrying, Mama. The merchandise can only be returned for store credit, so we can't lose. But it won't be returned, because a wife would never insult her husband, who went to all this trouble to please her. Believe me, she'll wear it even if it's something she wouldn't normally be caught dead in.”

“Unless she dies of embarrassment,” Nia said. “Then she'd be caught dead in it.”

“Are you making a joke, Mama?” Athena asked.

“Of course she's making a joke,” Christina said. “Isn't that right, Mama?”

Nia just shook her head at her daughters.

Athena was counting on the gentlemen's desire to see their wives in black negligees. The younger ones, especially, but also the ones whose old-world wives wore black every day, though never at bedtime.

“Black,” Nia screamed, pretending to faint, as Athena unpacked lacy black nightgowns. “Who would sleep in something black?” She blamed Athena's bad judgment on the pregnancy.

On the day that Athena brought in a window dresser to prepare the store for Valentine's Day, Mrs. Osner came into the shop for the first time.

Athena asked if she could help her.

“I need something to lift my spirits,” Mrs. Osner said.

“How about something red?” Athena asked.

“I almost never wear red. But maybe you're right. Maybe I'm in a red mood.” She selected a lacy red nightgown and a matching peignoir to go over it. “I'm a small,” Mrs. Osner told Athena. “Do you have these in a small?”

“I'm sure we do,” Athena said. Then she called, “Christina…” in her best voice. “Can you find these in a small?”

Christina stepped out from behind the curtain separating the dressing rooms and the stock from the front shop. “Oh, my goodness, Christina,” Mrs. Osner said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“This is my mother's store,” Christina explained. “My mother's and my sister's. Athena, this is Mrs. Osner, Dr. Osner's wife.”

“I'm so glad to meet you,” Athena said.

Mrs. Osner smiled. “And I'm so glad you're carrying these elegant underpinnings. Saves me a trip to East Orange.”

“Would you like to put something aside in case Dr. Osner comes in to shop for Valentine's Day?” Athena asked. “We're hosting a special night, for gentlemen only.”

“I doubt Dr. Osner will be coming in to shop for Valentine's Day.”

“I could drop a hint,” Christina said.

“Yes, do that.” Mrs. Osner flipped through the nightgowns and held up a silky white one, cut on the bias. And while she was at it she chose half a dozen pairs of underpants, two bras, two half-slips, two full and six pairs of stockings. By the time she was done she'd spent a fortune, more than a hundred dollars.

“When are you due?” she asked as Athena wrapped everything in tissue paper.

“Mid May,” Athena told her.

“Lovely—a spring baby. My daughter Natalie was born in spring. Is this your first?”

“No, I have a little boy. He's two. He's home with my grandmother this morning.”

“Well, Athena, you'll be seeing more of me. In fact, how about something for my daughter? She's almost fifteen. Something with hearts for Valentine's Day.”

Athena showed her pajamas. White with tiny red hearts.

“Perfect,” Mrs. Osner said. “Can you gift-wrap it?”

“Of course,” Athena said, trying not to show how thrilled she was by a new customer spending so much money all at once.

“I'd better stop at Bob & Betty, too,” Mrs. Osner said, “and pick up something for Fern. She's too young for your shop. Maybe slippers with pom-poms.”

She wrote a check for her purchases and signed it
Corinne Mendelsohn Osner
. Christina knew plenty about Mrs. Osner's bank accounts. The statements came to the office every month because Mrs. Osner was hopeless at balancing her checkbooks. Christina knew Mrs. Osner came from money. She could afford to buy whatever she wanted whenever she wanted it. She didn't have to ask permission, like the other wives. She didn't have to save out of her household allowance every time she needed a new girdle. But Christina suspected the subject of money was often what led Dr. O to smashing one of the Seven Dwarfs. Christina remembered the last bill from Fishman's, the most expensive women's dress shop in the city, and how, after Dr. O had seen it, he'd exploded, smashing not
one, but two of the Seven Dwarfs. Daisy hinted that every time the Osners had a spat, a shopping spree would follow. So, given what she'd just spent, Christina suspected a whopper.

When Mrs. Osner left the shop, Athena said, “Very nice, Christina. You have the makings of an outstanding salesperson. You know how to present yourself. You know how to make helpful suggestions. Why not come to work here after graduation? We could be partners one day. I'm not saying right away, because I'm the one with the experience, but in time we could expand into accessories. Scarves, gloves, bags.”

“Thank you, Athena. I'll consider your offer.” But Christina had no intention of working with her mother and sister, especially not her sister.

CHRISTINA DIDN
'
T DROP
the hint about a Valentine's Day gift directly to Dr. O. Instead, she told Daisy that Mrs. Osner had put something away at Nia's Lingerie in case Dr. O decided to go shopping. Daisy went to the shop on her own, bought the silky white nightgown for Corinne and handed the gift-wrapped package to Dr. O the next day. “A little bird tells me this is what Corinne would like for Valentine's Day.”

“Valentine's Day,” Dr. O said. “Is it Valentine's Day already?”

“No, but it will be soon.”

“Well, thanks, Daisy. It's very good of you to think of Corinne. Write yourself a check for the amount of the gift and I'll sign it.”

British Mourn Wartime Leader

20

Miri

The King of England died on February 6, and now Princess Elizabeth would be queen. She was twenty-five years old. Miri wondered how she felt knowing she'd be queen for the rest of her life. Was she sad that her father died but excited about being queen? Did she ever wish she were still a girl, a regular girl? Because Miri did. Sometimes she wished she were a little kid again. Everything was so simple then. Now she never knew when she was going to find out something terrible, something she didn't want to know. Sometimes her jaw ached in the morning. She wondered if Princess Elizabeth's jaw ever ached.

She wasn't going to tell Rusty, or anyone else, about this. She wasn't going to tell that sometimes she tossed and turned all night. Sometimes she woke up tired. Life felt harder than it ever had before. Sometimes she felt angry, frustrated, often sad. She thought being in love could cure anything but she was finding out that wasn't always true.

She and Suzanne had chipped in to buy a big stuffed panda bear for Betsy Foster but Suzanne's mother explained they couldn't visit her at the hospital. Betsy was still in isolation because of the burns.
Maybe in a few weeks
, Mrs. Dietz had told them. Miri agreed to keep the panda, wrapped in cellophane, in her room. The problem was, every time she looked at it, it reminded her of what had happened. She tried putting it in her closet on the shelf but it didn't fit upright, so she laid it on its back. Which in a way was worse, because then it reminded her of Penny in a coffin. Finally, she set it on its belly and covered it with a spare blanket.

And now—surprise—there was a letter from Mike Monsky. What was he thinking, writing a letter to her? She supposed she should be grateful he sent it in care of Frekki and Frekki put it in a plain envelope and forwarded it to her. Still, what if Rusty saw it? What if Irene did?

Dear Miri,

I'm back in Los Altos and I've shown your photo, the one Frekki took of you in front of the Paper Mill Playhouse, to Adela and the boys. All three are anxious to meet you and hope you can visit over the summer.

Yours,

Dad (Mike Monk)

Dad?
He had the guts to call himself
Dad
? And Adela wasn't surprised? She didn't get angry when she found out he had a secret child? Maybe she believed Mike
Monk
when he told her it was a surprise to him to learn he had a fifteen-year-old daughter. Maybe Adela believed whatever he told her. Or maybe they had a big fight over it. Maybe Adela accused him of being a liar.
Liar, liar, pants on fire
, the little boys would have sung, circling their father. Why did he have to go and write to her? Why couldn't he just leave her alone? But was that what she wanted—for him to leave her alone? She didn't know. She folded the letter into smaller and smaller squares, then shoved it into a sock. It could have been a piece of lint. Toe jam in the bottom of her sock. Rusty would never bother to unroll a pair of socks. As far as Miri knew, Rusty never snooped around in her room. She was pretty sure Rusty trusted her. She was just covering all her bases.

TODAY SHE HAD
a morning appointment with Dr. O and Rusty was going with her. “I need a pair of shoes,” Rusty said. “And Dr. Osner said he'd fix my chipped tooth at the end of your appointment. Two birds with one stone.”

The shoe store, Kolber Sladkus, was next to Three Brothers Luncheonette on the street level of the Martin Building, where Dr. O had his office. While Rusty was trying on shoes, black suede pumps with three inch heels and a peep toe, on sale to make room for the spring line, Miri slipped her feet into the fluoroscope machine, where she peered into the viewfinder to see her bones, eerily green inside her shoes. Seeing her bones that way made her think of something from outer space. The boys at school were all walking around like zombies with their arms outstretched, making the girls scream. Winky Herkovitz said a flying saucer was causing the planes to crash. You couldn't see it. It was hovering above Elizabeth and when it wanted to cause a plane to crash, it did. What was it with the boys in her class? Was it that they liked the idea of spaceships and zombies? Was it too scary to think about what really made the planes crash?

Rusty paraded around the shoe store in her peep-toe heels, admiring them in the mirror. “What do you think?” she asked Miri.

“Nice,” Miri said.

“They're for dress, not work. I might leave them at the office for special occasions.”

How often did Rusty wear dress shoes? Maybe to the theater. Maybe to a holiday party.

Miri wasn't listening as Rusty went on about the shoes, until Rusty surprised her by asking, “How about it, honey? Would you like a new pair of shoes for Passover?”

“Passover? That's not until April this year.”

“I know…but look at these patent-leather slingbacks. Aren't they cute?”

Rusty was acting strange today, but if she was offering new shoes, Miri wasn't going to argue.

Mrs. Kolber, who had fitted Miri for shoes as long as she could
remember, brought out the slingbacks for Miri to try. “They're expensive,” Miri said, eyeing the price on the box.

“You know what Nana says,” Rusty told her. “They're your feet. You'll need them for the rest of your life. Treat them well.”

Irene was proud of her pretty, well-shaped, well-cared-for feet. She massaged them with Pond's cold cream every night. No bunions for her from wearing shoes that didn't fit. Mrs. Kolber didn't have to pad Irene's shoes, like she did with some of her friends, to make sure she'd be comfortable in her everyday oxfords and her black pumps.

“You only live once,” Mrs. Kolber sang. That was probably how she got customers to shell out money for expensive new shoes.

Miri got out of her saddle shoes, pulled off her thick white socks and pulled on the peds Mrs. Kolber offered. When she slipped her feet into the new shoes and stood up, Mrs. Kolber pressed on her toes to see how close they came to the toe box, then told her to walk around to make sure she wasn't slipping out of the slingback. She'd never had slingback shoes. They made her feel like dancing.

While the shoes were being wrapped, Rusty wrote a check to pay for them. Instead of biting her lip the way she usually did when it came to parting with money, she was humming to herself. She hummed in the elevator all the way to Dr. O's office on the third floor. Miri wasn't sure about this happy-go-lucky Rusty. It made her nervous. On the way down the hall they passed the medical lab and Miri poked her head in the way she always did, to see the fat white rabbits in their cages. Natalie told her they had something to do with finding out if you were pregnant. Something about urine was involved. But neither of them understood how it worked. Once, Miri had a blood test at the lab to see if she was anemic. She wasn't.

In the waiting room of Dr. O's office, a little boy played with a small dog on the floor while his mother sat on the sofa and leafed through a magazine. As soon as Miri entered, the dog ran to her. “Fred!” Miri picked him up. “What are you doing here?”

“You know Fred?” the mother asked. Her English was heavily accented and she was good-looking, with big blue eyes, blond baloney curls hanging down her back, big breasts and just plump enough to make the boys whistle.

“Fred belongs to my friend Mason,” Miri said, trying to talk slowly, pronouncing every syllable in every word, in case she didn't understand.

“Very nice boy, Mason. I know from Janet. Always making us laugh. I'm Polina and this, my son, Stash.”

Oh. Polina. Miri got a pang, thinking that Mason was friends with her.

Rusty looked up from the magazine she'd been flipping through. “I'm Rusty Ammerman, and this is my daughter, Miri.”

“Very nice meeting,” Polina said.

“Mason told me you live…” Miri began. “I mean
lived
in one of the houses that was hit but you were lucky because you weren't home.”

“Very lucky. And lucky Miss Daisy took us home to stay. Miss Daisy so wonderful. Like mother to us. But we need find new place to live.”

“Maybe we can help,” Rusty said. “We have a family friend who owns apartment buildings.”

Miri looked over at Rusty. Was she talking about Ben Sapphire?

“Would be so good,” Polina said.

“How did Fred get here?” Miri asked.

“Fred!” Stash said, clapping his hands. Fred barked.

The door to the inside office opened and Christina stepped out. “I'm sorry,” she said, “but we can't allow pets in the office, not even in the waiting area.”

“Fred!” Stash said again, but Fred didn't bark this time.

“I know it's Fred,” Christina said. “But even Fred can't be in the waiting room. It's against the rules.”

Polina stood up. “Come, Stash. We take Fred for walk now.” She turned to Christina. “Please tell Miss Daisy we come back later, for ride home.” To Rusty she said, “Very nice meet you.” And to Miri, “Very nice meet you, too.”

Before Miri could say anything else Christina ushered her into the office. “We're ready for you, Miri.”

Christina was professional around her. She clipped on the white towel over the cape, and prepared the little pleated paper cup. How
did they get the pleats into the paper? Miri wondered. Was it someone's job or was there a machine that did it? How come she'd never seen pleated cups anywhere but at Dr. O's office? She supposed other dentists also used them. But she'd never been to any other dentist. Christina poured a small amount of Lavoris mouthwash into the cup. Miri rinsed and spit before Dr. O came in, asking, “How's my favorite patient?” He probably said that to everyone but Miri liked hearing it anyway.

He began to poke around in her mouth, with Christina assisting. “What music would you like to hear today, Miss Mirabelle?”

Dr. O could whistle any tune, from the Top 40 to classical. Miri thought he'd surely win if he went on Arthur Godfrey's talent show. “Surprise me,” Miri told him. And he did, whistling “How High the Moon.” Miri relaxed, closed her eyes and thought of Mason. She cringed a couple of times during the drilling of the small cavity but it wasn't that bad. Just as Dr. O promised, she didn't need Novocain.

When the tooth was filled and Miri had rinsed, Dr. O said, “So how are you doing, Mirabelle?”

“Okay.”

“Not worried about anything?”

“What would I worry about?”
Only everything
. Was he going to ask her about Natalie, and if so, what would she tell him?

“Does your jaw ever ache in the morning?”

“Sometimes.”
How did he know? Please don't tell my mother if I have a terrible disease
.

“Looks like you're grinding your teeth.”

Grinding?

“Understandable, given what you've been through. We can make you a device to wear at night to prevent the clenching and grinding.”

“What kind of device?”

“Just something that fits over your teeth.”

“Suppose I don't want a device?”

“Grinding can damage your teeth.”

Damage?

“We carry anxiety in different ways.”

Anxiety?

“Tell you what. We'll recheck in a month to see how you're doing. Okay with you, Miss Mirabelle?”

“Okay.”

“Good.” He smiled at her. “How come I haven't seen you around our house lately?”

“I was there on the day of…on the day of…”

“Yes, I know.” He paused. “Well, I don't want to spoil Natalie's surprise. She'll want to tell you herself. She's in New York today, at dance class.”

“But I'll see her tonight at bowling.”