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Authors: William Goldman

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The major reason Edith never expected trouble around 59th and Lex was simply this: Edith
never
expected trouble, period. And with good reason. She rarely experienced any. Oh, she broke her arm badly one year at camp. And Kate, her firstborn, came complete with asthma, serious asthma, but again, that was a disease of youth, more often than not, something you outgrew. Her many friends, when they talked about it, considered Edith just an extraordinarily lucky human being.

Not true, not true. She worked at her luck. Relentlessly. From the time she was ten. It was, perhaps, Edith

s chief inheritance from her father.


Who is she?

Mrs. Mazursky screamed. She had to be screaming because Edith, eight and a half, could hear her mother from three rooms away. It was night and past her bedtime, lights had long since gone out, but just the same she left her bed and padded down the hall. Her parents were not screamers. Clearly an Event was taking place, and Events were meant to be Attended.


Oh Jesus, Myrtle, close it up,

Sol Mazursky said. If Edith

s mother was a tub, the only word for Sol was

blimp.

Even if you adored him, as Edith did, the word had to come to mind. At five three and one ninety-five, svelte he wasn

t. And his shape had
nothing to do with glands. He ate everything; he was constantly hungry.


I

ll kill her
!”
Myrtle Mazursky went on, louder, her voice just beginning to crack.


Myrtle, there

s no

her.

I got a nose like Durante and I

m eighty pounds over, who

s gonna fall for me?


You

re rich,

Myrtle said. -

I didn

t know that, Edith thought, just by the open doorway now. And until then, she never had. She just more or less assumed that everybody lived in fifteen-room duplexes on Park Avenue. Or could if they wanted.


Some riches I got—my wife could get employment shouting at the Fulton Fish Market easy.


Women will do anything for money. There are plenty of such people.


Baby, I

m gonna tell you again—I

m going out for a business appointment.


Don

t call me

baby

—and who has business at ten o

clock at night except mQnkey business?

And now came a wail.

She

s probably a
shiksa.


There

s no one else—


—liar—


—on my
honor,
for Chrissakes—


—you

re going to see a woman, I can tell it, it

s ten o

clock at night and you just put on your best suit and you were
humming
while you knotted your tie, a
wife notices such things—

Then a long pause. And after that, softly:

I
am
going to see a woman, a
shiksa,
her name is Kristin with a
K
and she is blond—


—I don

t want to hear, Sol—


—you want to know who the enemy is, don

t you? Just shut up and let me tell you. She

s just turned twenty-four and she

s almost five eight, she
towers
over me, we laugh about it. We laugh about a lot of things.
She
thinks I

m funny, the way my wife once did.

Deep intakes of breath from Myrtle now.


Kristin lives on 55th Street, just off Third, and when I walk through the door she

s gonna give me a big hug, and then she

s gonna rumple my hair and lead me to the sofa and offer me a Scotch. I

m gonna say,

a weak one, maybe,

and she

ll make it,
like an expert, just the way I like my Chivas. A splash of soda, no ice. And then she

s gonna stir it and bring it to me and bend down and hand it over and she

ll be wearing a silk blouse but no bra, she doesn

t like bras, she doesn

t need them, and I

ll sit there all smiles and just look up at her and then it

ll be
her
turn to sit and guess where she

s gonna rest that perfect
tush
of hers.

Pause. Silence.

Now Sol, roaring:

Right in the lap of Mister Howard
L.. Kassel
baum of Chicago who keeps her and is who I

m having my goddam business meeting with/


Who is this Kasselbaum?


Precisely a question Mrs. Kasselbaum is asking these days. She thought she married a plodder, it turns out he

s Errol Flynn. He is also one of the rising stars in the Loop real estate market


How could you put me through this?


How could you think I was having an affair?


Why an appointment this late? Why didn

t you have dinner with him?


Because I like to eat with my wife, a blossoming shrew. And my daughter. Who I love more even than food. And who at this very moment is up several hours past her bedtime.

Darn, Edith thought, I must have moved my shadow. She hesitated, then entered the huge bedroom rubbing her eyes, yawning, going quickly to her father, giving him a hug.


No good,

her father said.

Ship her back to acting school.

Edith went and hugged her mother.


How much did you hear?

her father asked.


Not anything much at all, Daddy.


How much did you hear?

her father asked. He was not a man who repeated himself frivolously.


Just from

Who is she

on.


Well, ignore it, it was nonsense, just a little show I put on to torment your mother.

Now he picked her up. She was quick and bright and pretty and already blessed with her wonderful reddish hair.

Come,

Mr. Mazursky said, and he beckoned to his wife, and they all walked downstairs in silence.

And into the living room where Edith never went, because even if you just looked at something, it broke. The living room meant this was going to be special.


Do you think your parents love each other?

Edith nodded. No reason not to. Not only did she think it, it was true.


What all that up there was about, at least this is my opinion

—he looked at his wife now—

Tell me if I

m right.

Myrtle nodded.


What all that was about was not some nonexistent creature but just this: I work too hard. Who goes out at night for business? Ridiculous. Yes?

Mrs. Mazursky gestured around the antique-filled room.

We don

t need any more.


Don

t bring money into this—money is
nothing.

He turned Edith in, his lap to face him.

Do you know what I do, Edith?

Edith giggle
d
.

Of course I know. You go to the office.

Sol looked at Myrtle and smiled.

The kid understands everything.

He played with Edith

s hair gently.

My old man—


—you mean Grandpa?—


—same guy. Okay. He owned some buildings in Brooklyn. Not schlock, but not major league.
I
was the one convinced him to expand into Manhattan. Give it a shot.


And who your age has done better? Thirty-seven years old, just barely.

Sol looked at his wife.

But I

m still not major league, baby. Can I call you

baby

again?

Myrtle nodded.


They sit around there, those guys, and if my name is mentioned, the most they might say is,

Mazursky? Good man. Word means something. Got a wife going through what looks like preliminary menopause, got a daughter gonna be a great painter; nice solid club fighter. But not a champion.



What

s so terrible about that?

Myrtle said.


Nothing. Who said

terrible

? Except for one thing: all I want to be in my heart is the most important real estate man in town.

He was rocking Edith now.

Honey, I want there to be a Mazursky Towers on Fifth Avenue that shines like gold. I want a Mazursky Plaza. I see Mazursky Fountains spouting all over the city. None of this comes easy, y

understand.

He looked at his wife now.

I

m gonna have to start busting my chops.


Start?
Jesus, Sol, what do you think you

ve been doing?


I

m going into business with this Chicago guy. And I

m opening an office in L.A. The core

s gonna stay right here, naturally,
but I want to keep

em guessing, all those guys at all the clubs. All kind of a game, y

understand?

Edith wasn

t sure she did but she nodded anyway.


Well, if you want to excel in games, tell me how you do that


You beat.


Right, honey, but how? I

ll tell you. You try with
everything.
What do you try with?


Everything?


Right again. Tonight

s the night the business starts expanding, baby. Daddy

s gonna be traveling a lot and working a lot and no matter where he is, he

ll call you.

Myrtle began now to sharply shake her head.

Sol looked at his daughter.

I

m going to tell you the family motto now, Edith—
my
daddy told me and I

m telling you. I

ll say it and then
we

ll
say it together. Okay?

Edith waited.



When you

re not practicing, remember, someone somewhere is practicing, and when you meet him he will win.

Okay? Both together?


When you

re not practicing—


—practicing—


—remember someone somewhere is practicing—


—is practicing—


Good. Now say the last alone for Daddy.


And when you meet him he will win,

Edith said. It was easy to remember. And she loved her father

s kiss. She just wished her mother

s head would stop shaking

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