Portraits (57 page)

On February 28 at seven o’clock in the morning her water broke. Niagara couldn’t have looked so beautiful. Her little overnight case had been packed for weeks.

A stiff and uncomfortable Henry managed to rush her to Children’s Hospital, as he’d promised. After she had been taken to her room, she asked him to call her mother.

“Let’s wait a little while, it’s only nine—”

“Henry, please. Please call…” How well she remembered what went on when Rachel had Larry. The thought was almost worse than the few sharp contractions she was beginning to have. She wanted no repetition…

Henry placed the call with great reluctance, only too well aware that the Sanderses had neither visited him nor given Doris the kind of moral support he felt they should have during these last months of high anxiety…

When Sara and Jacob came to the hospital, they found Henry pacing the hallway. They shook hands and went quickly to Doris, who smiled when she saw her mother come into her room. “I’m so glad you came, mama.”

“Glad, what do you mean? I’m your mother. How are you, Doris?”

“A little scared. I suppose having your first baby is always—” Doris broke off as a contraction came on.

Sara winced and held her hand. “Is it bad?”

Doris let out her breath as the pain ebbed. “It’s okay…Is papa here?”

“Naturally. Did you think he wouldn’t be?”

“No, I knew—” Doris shut her eyes tightly and clenched her hand, then relaxed. Boy, having a baby was a lot harder than getting pregnant. “I’d like to see him.”

As Jacob walked into Doris’ room he felt himself being carried back in time…Hold on, Gittel, squeeze my hand…The thought of his own child going through that agony pained him in a way he could not express in words. “Doris?” he said almost inaudibly.

“Thank you for coming, papa…” Doris felt all the past hurts dissolve in that moment. If papa was here, nothing could happen to her.

“I’m glad to see you, Doris.”

“Me too, papa—” She broke out in beads of perspiration, and her father grasped her hand and told her to hold tight as yet another contraction came on.

The nurse came in then and asked Jacob to leave. He leaned over his daughter and kissed her forehead, then turned to leave with tears in his eyes…

Miss Williams examined Doris. For contractions coming so close, she had barely dilated. Now she was getting another.

“Bear down and breathe out,” Miss Williams said.

Letting out a cry, she lay back, exhausted. “Boy, that was a good one.”

“And you’re a good patient, Mrs. Levin.”

At six o’clock Gary came in to examine Doris. Although her water had broken at seven in the morning the difficult labor hadn’t begun until four that afternoon. Two hours of labor wasn’t that bad for a first baby.

Henry rushed over to Gary as he came out of the room. “Well?”

“Doris is having a little difficulty, but I don’t think there’s anything to be alarmed about.”

“You don’t?”

“No, Henry, keep calm and I’ll be back later.”

Jacob had heard the conversation and was concerned. “Listen, Henry, I’m not going to let this go on. I don’t think your friend the doctor knows his ass from his elbow. I want a specialist brought in. Damn it, I want a consultation.”

Henry shook his head. He was worried too, but Gary Goldman was one of the best, he explained.

Nevertheless, when Gary came down the hall later that evening Jacob confronted him with his decision. “I don’t give a damn if this hurts your feelings or not, doctor, but I want to call in a specialist.”

Gary looked at Jacob and narrowed his eyes. “That’s what I happen to be. However, if you don’t think I’m doing a good job, I’d suggest you do that. Who do you want me to call?”

“Who’s the best?” Jacob asked Henry.

“Dr. Philip Barnes.”

“Why didn’t you have Doris go to him in the first place? Call him.”

There was no point in upsetting Jacob further, so Henry gave in. “Gary, will you call Dr. Barnes?”

“More than happy, Henry.”

At eleven-thirty, Dr. Barnes arrived, and he and Gary went in to see Doris.

By the time they came out, Jacob and Sara stood like statues, as if they expected only the worst.

“How’s my daughter?” Jacob asked Barnes.

“She’s ready to be taken up to delivery. I concur with Dr. Goldman. It was a difficult labor, but he was right to have waited.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Jacob said, wiping his forehead with his handkerchief.

The baby was born at one minute to twelve. It was a breech birth, but there were no other complications.

When Gary came out of surgery he said to Henry, “Well, dad, you have a little girl, eight pounds and two ounces. Congratulations.”

Henry put his arm around Gary’s shoulder.

“Thanks, Gary—for everything.”

“Nature should get a little of the credit.” He walked away without a word to the Sanderses.

“Well, Jacob,” Sara said, “we have another grandchild.”

A girl…He and Henry were some combination, but at least Doris and the baby were okay. “So, how does it feel to have a daughter?”

“That’s what I prayed Doris would have.” He wiped away his tears unashamedly…

The next morning, Henry came into Doris’ room with a bouquet of flowers. “Well, darling, we have our little girl.”

“I can hardly wait for the nurse to bring her.”

“She will, I stopped by the nursery and they were just feeding the babies. A nurse held her up for a minute.”

“What’s the color of her hair?”

“Dark.”

“I can hardly wait.” She sighed happily. “How did your mother take the news?”

“She can’t get over it. All morning she kept saying, ‘I’m a
bubbe
, I’m a
bubbe
,’ like it was the world’s first grandchild.”

“Henry, she’s really so good, I’ll never forget what your family has done for me…How are my folks? You know what I mean.”

When Henry recalled the events of last night he wondered how he had taken all that bullying from Jacob without blowing up. “They were great, Doris.”

“Was my father disappointed because we had a girl?”

“No, really…Well, I’d better get to the office. My family will be here later. I’ll call.”

“Darling, please call Rachel.”

“Your mother already did.” …

At ten that morning, the nurse finally brought Doris her child. She could hardly believe that the small bundle wrapped in white blankets had been inside her the day before.

“Well, here we are,” the nurse said, handing the child into Doris’ waiting arms.

Her first look at her child made her face pale. It was…wizened…all black and blue. The eyes were tightly shut and it had a thin little patch of black hair. Henry said she was
beautiful
?

Doris brooded for the rest of the day. She had never seen a newborn baby, and actually thought they were born all pink and healthy and cuddly.

When Henry arrived that evening he saw her distress at once and asked her what was wrong.

“Henry, I know I shouldn’t say this, but are you sure you saw the right baby?”

“Why?”

“The one that they brought me…I don’t think it’s ours.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because she’s just—all black and blue.”

“That’s from the instruments, but it’ll go away.”

“No, she’s just—”

“Honey, the poor little thing had a very tough time.”

Henry was right…but he was also making her feel guilty. She wondered if she would ever get over that first shock…

Over the following week, the forceps marks had completely disappeared, much to Doris’ relief. In fact, the baby was getting as pretty as her original fantasy…her eyes were violet, her hair straight like mama’s. The most beautiful thing about mama was her hair, and Doris could tell even now that the baby’s was going to be the same color and texture. Indeed, the more she saw her child the more she prayed that God would forgive her for having such awful first thoughts. She had already fallen totally in love with this adorable little child and suddenly the name began to fit the child. Michele…Doris had always loved that name. If she said it fast it sounded really lovely…Michelelevin, Michelelevin…

S
ARA SAT AT THE
kitchen table, having her usual breakfast of grapefruit and coffee, but this morning the grapefruit soured her stomach. Why was she dieting so much? What was she trying to prove? She had asked herself that question several times recently, but this morning she knew the answer. Quite simply, she didn’t much like herself and never had. Nor had anyone else, she added. She had thought that getting thin would give her a sense of accomplishment, and somehow change her. At first it did bolster her morale, but deep down she knew she was still the same person, the same little girl who had lived her life in longing and loneliness. She had spent her childhood drifting from one place to another because her mother had preferred Louie to her. When she looked back and unraveled the years, her mind stopped at the first year of her marriage. That was the one and only time she had felt a true sense of happiness, an intimation of hope, when she and Jacob were in love in that little place on Washington Heights. But much too soon the world had come crashing in on her…on them. When they moved back to the lower East Side, she had been cast into long years of poverty and denial. Of course she wasn’t poor now, but life had deprived her of more than material things and she could never go back and reclaim them. She had never known what it was like to be at peace; she had never been given the time. She had become a mother before she’d become a woman, and the responsibilities of motherhood hadn’t allowed her to do anything with her life. That wouldn’t have hurt so much if her children…ah, the children…and the promise of Jacob’s strength and ambition had not brought what she had hoped for. She had struggled by his side for well over twenty years, but he was more frugal with his love and his money now than when he had been poor.

Her life was more lonely now than at almost any other time. And now she was a grandmother, whether she liked it or not. She was going to be forty-one in December and she’d never been young herself. Life had gone by her…run over her…so quickly she hadn’t had the space or time to establish herself in life…Or was it possible, she was frank enough to ask herself, that she had been hiding from life, using her children as an excuse? Maybe, but she doubted it…It seemed more the other way around. They had so consumed her that there was little or no time left for her to develop a social life, and Jacob…when he had first started in business he was away so much that she was left with all the responsibilities of the home. Besides, a woman couldn’t establish a circle of friends without a husband as host and escort, and the circumstances of their lives had only brought her in touch with people who were his roughneck associates or simply miserable downtrodden people. She was as poor as they were, but at least she had had some education, she was smart, but who was there to talk to, to be really friendly with…? Soon Lillian would be grown up, and then what…?

She got up from the table, threw out the uneaten grapefruit and went upstairs to dress. Sitting at the dressing table, combing her thick black hair, the house seemed strangely silent and she felt frightened. Was this what her life…

A sudden thought made her pause as she walked to the closet. Why not have Doris come home and live? Having Henry around would be no particular joy…he was a constant reminder of how mistaken she had been…but then again, he’d be at the office all day and it was Doris who was the important one. So happy-go-lucky, such good company…The baby should be a bonus. Babies took up one’s time and she was such a sweet little thing. Henry could baby-sit in the evenings so she and Doris could go to a movie.

The feeling of loneliness was beginning to lift as she now hurried to dress.

It was with a rare sense of exhilaration that she got into the Pierce Arrow and drove down the driveway, and before going to catch the ferry she bought a nightgown for Doris and a silver comb and brush set for the baby.

Sarah felt in command of life once again…

She opened the door to Doris’ room and smiled at her daughter…her redemption. Kissing Doris with more than her usual affection, she handed the gifts to her and watched as Doris unwrapped them.

“They’re beautiful, mama. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing compared to what I’d like to do for you, darling, but you know papa’s not the most open-handed man in the world. Well, do I have to tell you? To get a dollar out of him…”

Mama seemed so pitiful today, Doris thought, and what she said was true. Papa was a difficult man. She was sure papa did love mama, but he was just not able to show it. Strange man…At times Doris thought he was deliberately trying to punish mama for some unfathomable reason, and at other times it was as though he wanted to reach out but couldn’t.

“How’s the baby, Doris?”

“That little doll is so adorable I could eat her up. I have to admit that I didn’t feel that way at first, though. The first time I saw her I thought she looked like a shriveled little old woman.”

Sara laughed. “And now you think you’ll keep her?”

“Oh, mama, I adore her.”

“Why not, she’s your child…Have you thought about where you’re going to live?”

That was a question she wished she didn’t have to answer. “I think for the time being, we’ll stay with Henry’s mother.”

“Why Henry’s mother? I’m a mother too.”

Doris was surprised that her mother wanted to bother with them, especially with the baby. Her nerves weren’t the best, and now that she was going through the change of life her emotions were even more on the surface and more conflicting.

“I think it might be difficult for Henry,” Doris said, hoping it would discourage mama.

“What would be difficult for Henry?”

“Commuting back and forth, and he still has problems with his back.”

“As a good mother and a good friend, Doris, I’m going to tell you something. You cater to Henry a little too much.”

“Please, mama. Let’s not talk about Henry and—”

“I’m not talking about him. Please let me finish. I was starting to say that a woman can spoil a husband when she thinks
only
of his welfare. Women have something coming to them too, you know. If you don’t, ask me. You and I, darling, have a tendency to allow a husband to walk all over us.”