Portraits (33 page)

After the six-week course was over, Rachel applied at the telephone company in San Francisco and was hired. For once she felt free. Commuting on the ferry boat gave her a feeling of exhilaration. Still, her emancipation went only so far. Secretly she wanted to move out of the house and live by herself, but she knew what
that
would create. And in spite of all her bravado she was fearful about cutting the umbilical cord so completely. Her feelings mystified her, but they could not be denied either…

Every week she bought new clothes for herself…she loved fine things and having had so few of them she now indulged herself.

One day, while cleaning Rachel’s room, Sara found a receipt for twenty-five dollars for a
pair of shoes
. Was Rachel earning
that
kind of money? Sara looked inside the dresser drawers and found the neatly placed silk, crêpe de Chine and satin nightgowns and slips. Sara looked at the labels—Leibes, Ranschoff, I. Magnin…well, she and Rachel would have a long talk.

That night, Sara didn’t wait to be invited in. She opened the door as Rachel was unbuttoning the front of her blouse. Seeing her mother’s reflection in the mirror, she turned around, lifted her chin and waited. Mama clearly had something on her mind.

“You have some lovely things, Rachel.”

“Thank you. I get my good taste from you, mama.”

Sara narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t going to fence tonight. Without hesitation she asked, “How much do you earn?”

“What difference does it make?”

“Let me warn you, Rachel, don’t provoke me. I asked you a question.”

“I make enough to take care of myself…”

“Really? It must be a good deal to buy such expensive things.”

“I earn it, so I have the right—”

“You have a right? Do you? Well, from now on, young lady, you also have the right to pay for your room and board.”

“Why, mama, are you
jealous
?”

Sara lost control, slapped her across the mouth. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again, do you hear?”

Rachel almost cried out, but she dug her nails into the palm of her hand, pulled a cardboard dress box from under the bed, and without another word began to pack.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Rachel took out the clothes from the closet and folded them neatly into the box.

“I asked—”

“To the YWCA, not that it’s any of your business.”

“If you leave this house, you’ll never step foot into it again. And that I promise.”

In spite of her show of bravado, Rachel was frightened, but she forced herself to go on with her packing. When she’d finished she put the top on the box, took twenty dollars from her purse and threw it on the dresser. Then, without another word, she walked out of the room and down the stairs.

Sara heard the front door slam. God, what had she done to be so punished? How could she cope with someone as difficult as this? How could a girl—a
decent
girl—leave her home?

When Jacob came home he found Sara weeping. “Rachel left the house…”

He was still terribly hurt at Rachel’s outburst the night she had asked to go to college. But no matter, she was his child, and he was her father whether she loved him or not. He would not leave her out there alone, abandon her the way his mother had done…

“Left the house? How could you have allowed that—?”

“Don’t you start at me, Jacob. I’ve been through enough. For one solid week it’s been hell—”

“Why did she leave?”

“You don’t know Rachel yet? I asked how much she earned. After all, was that so unreasonable? Don’t I have a right to know? I was trying to make her understand she shouldn’t spend everything, that a person should save a little.”

Jacob sighed. “Where is she?”

“At the YWCA.”

“Did you call?”

“I’m her mother—she should have called me.”

“Still, she’s just a child.”

“A child? Eighteen is a child? I was a mother at her age, and making a home. Not if hell freezes will I give in to her this time. Besides, if I did there’d be no living with her—”

“Don’t be foolish, Sara. You’re hurt, I understand that, but we have to go and get her—”

“Not me, you go. She loves
you
a lot too…”

“Well, she thinks I did something terrible and she’s angry. She’ll get over it.”

“A lot you know. She’s as stubborn as a mule and just as selfish. She never offered to contribute a dime.”

“She doesn’t have to, this is her home.”

“All right, Jacob. As usual, stick up for her—”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Sara. Whatever I say is wrong. It always ends up this way—with us fighting. I’m going to bring her back.”

“You do that. And tell her next time she can step on me,” Sara called out as Jacob slammed the back door…

Jacob found his daughter sitting on the edge of the iron cot against the wall, in a room just large enough for a dresser and a chair.

“Mama tells me you left the house. What kind of a decent girl does that? A girl from a good Jewish home? Now, get your things together and I’ll wait for you downstairs in the lobby.”

“I’m not going back…”

He was running out of patience. “Now listen to me, Rachel. You’re not the easiest person in the world to get along with, and neither is your mother. But you belong home and that’s where you’re going. So get dressed.”

Rachel wanted to resist, but this past week had been unbearably lonely. Bad as it was at home, there were things she missed. Perhaps the mere familiarity of it? Here she felt an isolation and aimlessness that had badly frightened her. For all the problems, home was home. What else was there for her? She had no friends to turn to. Imagine, eighteen and she’d never even really kissed a boy. Mama took care of that a long time ago. It would be awful to face mama, but…

If Sara was relieved she didn’t show it, and Rachel didn’t expect it. Rachel, though, told herself that striking back wouldn’t solve anything. She wasn’t capitulating, not for a moment. It was just a question of self-preservation.

She ended up paying twenty-five dollars a month. Papa objected loudly but she didn’t back down. She had her self-respect, and it did make her feel a little more independent. God, couldn’t they see that…?

Not until the day Rachel came home from work to find that Shlomo was there on leave did she feel any real lift to her spirits. How handsome he was in the magnificent uniform…she almost trembled as he looked at her, holding her at arm’s length. “Rachel, you’re a woman, a beautiful woman. How did you grow up so fast?”

“It wasn’t so fast, you just weren’t around often enough.”

“Obviously a great mistake on my part…” He kissed her on the forehead and held her against him. When he let her go he shook his head. She was truly exquisite, so poised, her blonde hair still like strands of silk, and those blue eyes…

“How long will you be here?” Rachel asked.

“A week.”

“I’m very pleased you’ve come.” Oh God, if only she could tell him what she really felt…

“I am too, Rachel. You’ll have to tell me about yourself and what you’ve been doing.”

She smiled. “I’m sure that would be boring. It’s you we all want to know about.”

“After dinner,” Sara said. “Papa’s getting washed up.”

At dinner Shlomo couldn’t take his eyes off Rachel. Sara had done a good job, no question. But Sara wouldn’t be able to keep her much longer. Of that he was certain.

Later the family all sat in the livingroom and listened to Shlomo tell them about the exotic places he had been, the different cultures he had seen. The children were fascinated by him. He could speak Chinese, Japanese, Filipino…They wanted him to go on and on, but it was well past Jacob’s bedtime, and reluctantly Doris and Lillian said goodnight and went up to do their homework. Rachel would have liked to stay but she felt awkward. In fact, there hadn’t been a moment since he arrived that she hadn’t been aware of his presence…

Doris had always dreamed of being a bride. She bought magazines and was an authority on the subject. In her fantasy she was always tall and thin, floating down the aisle in a cloud of white veils and lace. Then she and her groom went off to a romantic island, floating in the blue Pacific. She had planned the whole marvelous event. The reception would be here at home, and mama would make all kinds of marvelous sandwiches and salads. But the cake was to come from a bakery. It would be three layers, with a bride and a groom standing on top…Tonight as she and Lillian lay in bed, she asked, “Lillian, can you keep a secret?”

“Of course I can. That’s almost insulting.”

“Well, sometimes as I’ve told you, you do forget. But you won’t tell? Promise?”

“Promise.”

“All right, I’m going to marry Uncle Shlomo.” Mrs. Sandy Sanders…

Lillian sat up in bed and switched on the bedside lamp. “That’s crazy. You can’t marry a relative.”

“Oh, yes, you can. Didn’t our cousin Bertha from Cleveland marry her cousin, on Uncle Harold’s side?”

“Well, maybe that’s different, but your uncle? Besides, he’s an old man…”

“Oh, he is not, Lillian. A lot you know about romance.”

“Well, I know a little bit about it. Billy Hines walks me home every day,” she answered indignantly.

“That’s different. Incidentally, did he ever kiss you?”

“Oh, Doris! Of course not. I don’t go around kissing boys. Remember what mama said about getting diseases…”

“How do you know about that?”

“Because I overheard her telling you. I’m not so dumb.”

“I didn’t say you were dumb. I meant…oh, I don’t know what I meant. I only know I’m going to marry Sandy.”

“Sandy? You mean Uncle Shlomo?”

“Well, only until we’re married.”

“How do you know he wants to marry you?”

“Because of the way he kisses me. A person can just tell, that’s how.”

“Well, I saw him looking at Rachel tonight.”

Doris had too. “So what if he did. I didn’t see him kiss her like he kissed me when we left the room…Anyway, I don’t want to talk about it any more.” And with that she turned off the light, shut her eyes and lay awake in the dark for a very long time.

Rachel stared up at the ceiling. She could simply find nowhere to hide from herself tonight. He had aroused feelings in her she had never felt before, feelings that were disturbing, exciting, confusing…She dreamed what it would be like to lay in his arms, to be fondled, caressed and told how beautiful and desirable she was. She was so madly in love with him that she was convinced there could never be another man in her life. Somehow it seemed she had known for a long time, but had only now realized it. He had, after all, sent her special presents and letters from all those places…

Turning on the bedside lamp, she went to her special hiding place and took out the packet of letters he’d sent through the years. She read the last one now, the one he’d sent before leaving Singapore.

My dearest Rachel,

You have no idea how delighted I was to receive the invitation announcing your graduation. I was bursting with pride that my little Rachel had become the most beautiful woman. The pictures you sent me made me realize how much I had missed, not seeing you grow up. The loss is mine.

However, I must say that when I showed your picture to my buddies they thought you were my sweetheart. I told them you were my very own sweet Rachel, with the halo of blonde hair and the eyes like blue sapphires.

Don’t let anyone run off with you, Rachel, not without my consent. I’m concerned who you marry. Don’t be in a hurry—there’s a world to see and explore. I love all my nephews and nieces but there is something special in you. Congratulations, dear sweet Rachel, and may God love you, as I do.

Sandy

She held his letter close to her as she would have loved to hold him. He was sleeping in Lillian’s room, just down the hall. What were his thoughts? Did he feel the way she did? She was sure of it as she slipped the letter back into the envelope…

After an almost sleepless night Rachel was awakened by the alarm clock. She clicked the button off and lay in dreamy thoughts before she suddenly got out of bed…It was six-fifteen and she had to catch the seven o’clock commuter train to connect with the ferry.

She hurried through her morning shower. When she walked out of the bathroom, her heart began to pound as she almost collided with him. “Good morning—”

Sandy smiled. “You’re in such a hurry?”

“I know. I overslept—something I never do.”

“You sound like you’re in the marines.” He laughed.

She could only smile, mumble something insane and run to her room, where she now leaned against the wall and wondered if he could tell…did he suspect? She prayed he couldn’t—then prayed he could…

That night she hurried home, only to find the most painful disappointment. Jacob had taken Sandy to the country for a few days. She could hardly eat, sleep was nearly impossible. She withdrew into almost total silence. Immediately after dinner she went to her room and paced the floor. Why did he go away with papa? Didn’t he know how she felt? Or had he left because he too felt the nearness of the hall, which was all that separated them?

The next evening Rachel decided she simply couldn’t go home to dinner. The last few days had been unbearable, so instead she decided to have dinner at a small tea room that catered to ladies only. As she waited for her salad her thoughts were full of Sandy…She looked about the room…When they—Lord, she meant “she,” of course—when she had a home of her own it would be like this, with a Windsor table and chairs, country floral wallpaper and matching draperies. Beyond the windows were flower boxes of spring blooms. Yes, her house would look more like this…She was depressed by the way her family lived, with the awful old furniture. Why didn’t papa spend some of his money and fix up the place? At least she wouldn’t be embarrassed to bring someone home then. Then again, she didn’t have friends to entertain, so what difference did it make? If they wanted to live like that, let them—it was their business. But it was hers to see that her life took a different direction…

It was eight o’clock when she put the key in the door and was halfway up the stairs when Sara slid open the livingroom doors to the hall and without preamble asked, “Why didn’t you come home for dinner?”