“Was she married? An old maid?”
“Such an ultra-Orthodox question! If you want to know something about a woman, that’s the information that will tell you her true worth, no? Rivka, I have no idea about her sexuality. All I can tell you is that she had many friends, both men and women, and she never attempted to climb into bed with me.”
Rivka blushed.
“When we got back to New York to Milly’s apartment, it took only three days before I picked up the phone and found my mother on the other end. Despite the fact that she said she never wanted to hear from me again if I didn’t come running home to get married, I guess she had a change of heart. She begged, cajoled, then threatened and shrieked that I was a whore who was ruining the entire family’s reputation. I packed up my things immediately. Milly was so sorry, but we had no choice. They obviously knew where I was, and I couldn’t risk Milly getting hurt, too. She helped me find and furnish a little studio apartment, loaning me money for the deposit and the first few months’ rent. I continued to work as her assistant, and then she helped me land a few lucrative freelance jobs at various publications. Eventually, I set up my own studio.
“But my parents weren’t finished with me yet. They soon found out where I lived. Various relatives showed up at the door at intervals to threaten me. At a certain point, I had had enough. I filed a police complaint and took out a restraining order. My parents were hauled down to the Williamsburg police station. And there, among the dope pushers and prostitutes, I imagine they were fingerprinted and photographed, an experience for which they never, ever forgave me. After that, they left me alone.”
“It must have been so terrible for them!” Rivka said.
Rose looked at her, annoyed. If she loved her family so much, why didn’t she throw herself into their arms and eat their food?
Rivka seemed to sense it. “She was always kind to me,” she said apologetically. “They both were. They’re both gone now, you know.”
Rose nodded. She had been sent word when her mother died, along with strict instructions not to dare show up for the funeral or to pay a shiva call. She’d come to the cemetery anyway. No one had said a word to her, and some of her brothers had wrapped a tallis around their children to shield their eyes so they wouldn’t—God forbid—look at her. “Before my tateh died, I saw him in the hospital. I waited for everyone to leave, then sneaked in. He didn’t know who I was, so I was able to sit there and hold his hand, and give him a drink…” Her voice cracked. “After he went, I had no contact with my family at all, until you.”
“Aunt Rose?”
“Hmm?”
“Was it good?”
“Was what good?
“Your life, Aunt Rose. Was it worth it?”
She thought about how to answer that. “Sometimes,” she finally answered with painful honesty.
The Sabbath, the New Year’s, and Passover holidays were the worst, the loneliness heightened and exaggerated by echoes from past family gatherings noisy with the laughter and talk and songs of cousins and aunts and uncles sitting around huge tables groaning with food.
But then, out in the city, taking her photos, experiencing absolute freedom, the joy of discovery, the excitement of claiming her little place in the world, she could not have imagined any greater happiness.
“It was the life I had chosen, the life I wanted,” she elaborated. “But it was no picnic. Every lifestyle, every culture, has its good and bad points. It’s a trade-off. You’re the only one who can decide what you need, what you can and can’t live without. So, if you still feel you have a choice, maybe think it over again? It’s not as easy or simple as it looks to run away from your life and replace it with something better.”
“Aunt Rose, when I found those things about you under my mother’s bed…”
“Under her bed?”
“They were hidden, in a box.”
Rose nodded, understanding dawning. So, Pearl hadn’t shown it to her daughter! Rivka had discovered it, by accident. Well, at least Pearl hadn’t thrown it away. That also meant something.
“I looked you up on the Internet. Then, I found your books in the library. I went to see your pictures at MOMA last year. Such an inspiration you were to me! If not for you, I don’t know if I have the courage to do any of this!”
Hannah had been telling the truth! Rose thought, equally flattered and appalled, resentful at being put into such a position, one she’d never asked for. “My life has nothing to do with yours, Rivka,” she said with unintentional harshness.
The girl looked stunned, as if she’d been slapped. “You’re wrong, Aunt Rose. It has everything to do with mine! We took the same train out of Brooklyn, looking for a life to call our own! But, not like you, I moved in with a man because I loved him. I didn’t sell myself for a bed to sleep in.”
Touché, Rose thought, her eyes watering from the sting of the well-placed insult. “Who was he?”
“Someone I met at Hannah’s house who was tutoring me for the SATs. His name was Simon Narkis.”
“Hannah’s boyfriend?”
Rivka looked ready to cry. “He wasn’t Hannah’s boyfriend when I met him that first night at Hannah’s! At least, Hannah never said. And the next day when he called me, he said Hannah told him I needed a tutor. He said he wanted to teach me … to help me … I thought it was her idea.”
Rose paced furiously around the room. “And Hannah knew about all this?”
She hung her head. “I told her last night.”
“Ahhh, I see.” It all made sense now. Hannah’s cold unconcern, her quiet fury. “You and Simon got together behind her back.”
“I didn’t think it was anybody’s business but mine, Aunt Rose! And when I found out they were dating, I left him. But I don’t think Hannah believes me!”
Right before her eyes, the kid seemed to be growing older, her rosiness fading, her face thinner.
Rivka stood up. “I don’t feel so…”
“Rivka … Rivka…”
*
Someone was patting her face. She opened her eyes and saw her aunt’s mouth moving, but heard nothing. She lifted her head off the carpet, then wobbled unsteadily to her feet. “I have to throw up!” She ran into the bathroom. Rose heard her heaving. When Rivka made her way back to the living room, she was clutching the walls for support. She flopped down on the carpet, leaning her back against the couch, suddenly letting out a wild sob, her whole body shaking with grief: “I loved him so much!”
Rose put her arms around the girl. “Oh, my poor kid,” Rose whispered, sitting down next to her and gathering her into her arms. “My poor, poor kid.”
Rivka snuggled against her like a small animal seeking shelter.
“Look, I can’t promise you I know how this is going to end, but only that it will end. And you’ll be all right. I know you can’t imagine that now, but that’s the truth. At some point, it will be all right.”
Rivka looked up into the eyes of this woman she hardly knew, whom she had been taught to fear and loathe, and saw herself reflected there. She put her arms around Rose’s waist, resting her tired head against her knees like a lost child, wanting to believe someone had the power to save her.
30
NYU, Manhattan, April 16, 2008
Hannah saw Simon sitting in the lecture hall doodling idly in a notebook, his whole body stretched out with the relaxed calm that she had always found so appealing, attributing it to superior understanding and a clear conscience.
“Hannah, over here!” Jason called to her from the other side of the room.
Simon looked up, turning his head slowly in her direction.
If he smiles or waves, I will have to kill him, she thought.
She turned away quickly, walking toward Jason.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Not now.” She cut him off curtly.
He shrugged, surprised.
The lecturer was one of her favorites, always so lively and engaging, making the past come to life. Halfway through, a sudden burst of laughter startled her into the realization that she hadn’t heard a word.
Ever since Rivka’s call, she’d felt sick, her stomach in knots, her head aching. Against her will, she’d been pulled inside a vortex that was spinning out of control and that was taking her and everything she once thought she knew about herself with it. Her self-image as a kind, liberal, open-minded person lay in pieces all around her like the aftermath of a tornado. Her emotions were equally fierce, running the gamut from deep betrayal to envy, hatred, and a crass and despicable desire for revenge. She had no idea who this person she had become was.
When the lecture ended, the movement of the students toward the exit distracted her from her prison of evil thoughts “Want to go someplace for lunch?” Jason offered.
“No,” she said bluntly, picking up her books and moving swiftly out of the auditorium, leaving an astonished and wounded Jason staring at her back in disbelief.
She’d had enough of him, too! Enough of men.
“Hey!”
She felt her arm tugged and looked up, startled. “If you want to live, Simon, you’ll let me go.”
He looked stunned. “What have I done?” He put his hands into his pockets. “Can’t we at least talk about this?”
“What topic do you have in mind, Simon? How you seduced my innocent little cousin? Or how you seduced my innocent little cousin behind my back while dating me?”
He looked around swiftly to check if her words had carried.
“I’m willing to discuss this privately,” he whispered stiffly.
“How privately, Simon? Because, for your own sake, you better have witnesses.”
He gave her a look, half-entreating, half-fearful, then gestured toward the door of an empty classroom. She followed him reluctantly. He closed the door behind them.
“At least sit down.”
“Talk! Or I’m out of here,” she warned, bracing her back firmly against the wall.
“First of all, she came on to me…”
“Oh, right! She called you.”
“No, I called her, but just to help her out. I did it for you.”
“You were only thinking of me? Get real, you turd!” She turned away furiously, her hand on the doorknob.
He hurriedly blocked the door. “You said she needed help with the SATs! I met with her the next day after the party.”
She turned around. “The very next day?”
“Yes! What? She didn’t tell you?”
She shook her head in disbelief.
“We met every day for two weeks. You mean to say the little, innocent virgin never mentioned what she was doing when you were out of the house?”
She bit her lips, her fury mounting. Little bird! She’d done it all behind her back.
“She was the one who brought over a suitcase and decided to move in. It wasn’t my idea, believe me.”
“Why should I believe anything you say? Besides, she had no idea what she was doing. You took advantage of her innocence!”
“Do you know she insisted on going to the ritual baths for purification so we could have sex properly? That also wasn’t my idea.”
Hannah felt stunned. “She went to a ritual bath?”
“She insisted. Listen, I never forced myself on her. She could have left at any time if she was unhappy. Once, she actually did walk away. But it was late at night and she deliberately didn’t take her purse or her phone. I couldn’t let her leave like that! I went after her just to make sure she was okay, and she fell into my arms.”
“I’ll bet!”
“It’s the truth! She came back willingly. She wanted me! You’ve got this totally screwed-up image of her. She knows what she wants, and she’s used both of us to get it.”
Hannah’s thoughts ran around in circles, trying to put the pieces together. Why did Rivka do what she did? And what had she gotten out of it? There was so much Hannah didn’t, couldn’t, understand. “Then why did she leave you now? Why did she call me? What happened?”
“I don’t know. Women.” He shrugged.
“How could you ask me out when you were sleeping with my cousin?”
He paused, wetting his lips nervously. “It’s true she and I were … but we both decided it wasn’t going to be long-term. We weren’t right for each other. She moved on. And so did I. I don’t know why you are all that upset. She needed tutoring; I tutored her. She needed a place to stay; I let her move in with me. She wanted to experiment sexually; I accommodated her…”
She felt her fury wane. From the very first day, Rivka had been seeing him and had deliberately kept it from her. All those times they had talked, the subject had never even come up. The two of them deserved each other.
“Well, maybe you’re right. Maybe Little Red Riding Hood isn’t any better than the Big Bad Wolf. I wash my hands of both of you.”
“Hannah, please!”
“You know what, Simon? I thought you were something special. That behind those Trotsky glasses and long hair was a person with values, an intellectual … I thought you cared about me.”
“I do, Hannah!” he said warmly.
“You are such a fake!”
“You know what? You shouldn’t be so quick to pass judgment on others,” he said pointedly.
“Meaning what?”
“What was your cousin doing on my doorstep in the first place?”
“I didn’t throw her out!”
“Maybe not physically, but you sure as hell must have passed on the information that she was persona non grata. If she came to me because she had no other place to go, shouldn’t you be asking yourself why?”
“I never threw her out!” she repeated, shouting passionately.
“So, she’s with you now?”
Hannah let out a long sigh, her body losing its defensiveness and rigidity. She sank down into a chair, shaking her head. “I refused to let her in.”
“Because of me?”
“Because you both lied to me! But I didn’t know it had been a lie from the start.”
“I never lied.”
“No. You just neglected to tell the whole truth.”
“Did you ever once ask me?”
“Why should it have even occurred to me?”
“And why should it have occurred to me that you didn’t know?”
That was true! She felt her anger shift toward her cousin. Not a wounded sparrow at all, but a scavenging vulture. She had been conning her and everyone else from day one.
“How did you find out about us?” he murmured.
“She called me a few days ago. Wanted to move in with me again. Said she’d been living with you and that she couldn’t anymore.”