The Two-Family House: A Novel (5 page)

The girls squealed when Rose told them about the invitation. Dinner at a fancy restaurant! In Manhattan!

“Can we go? Can we?” pleaded Mimi.

Eight pairs of eyes turned to Mort for approval. His initial reaction was to shake his head no. But he nodded his approval instead.

“Will we get to take the subway?” Judith asked her father, obviously excited at the prospect.

“I suppose so,” Mort said. He tried to smile. He noted, with satisfaction, that it was his third smile of the day.

“Mommy says the restaurant will be very pretty and everyone will be dressed up. I’m going to wear my best dress and my pink hair ribbon and I’m going to carry my purse!” Mimi spun around as she described the details of her outfit.

Dinah giggled and spun around as well. She approached Mort cautiously, and he patted her on the head.

“Time for bed now,” he declared.

As he got into his own bed that evening, Mort began to regret the process he had undertaken. It was only getting harder. The more interested he pretended to be in people, the more they expected from him. A smile one day led to an anticipated “good morning” the next. Just yesterday at work, his warehouse manager, Tom, had cornered him on his way out and asked him what his weekend plans were. Mort was offended. Tom had clearly mistaken his quiet “hello” at the coffee machine a few days earlier as an invitation to discuss all kinds of personal matters. Where would it end? At the rate he was going, he’d end up wasting half his workday with pleasantries and chitchat. The final straw was the dinner with Abe’s family. It was too much. Tomorrow, he’d tell them they weren’t going.

“Mort?” Rose turned on her side to face him and touched his arm. “Are you asleep?”

“No, I’m awake.”

“Thank you for letting us go to the restaurant tomorrow. I know you’re not a big fan of Sol, but the girls are so excited. I think we’ll all have a wonderful time.”

“Well, at least it won’t cost us anything,” he conceded.

Rose took his hand in the darkness and brought it to her face, where his fingers felt the yielding smoothness of her cheek. Next, she brought the hand to her mouth and kissed it, not just once, but twice, so that a sudden longing overcame him. By the time he kissed her lips and she wrapped her arms around him, he was awash in satisfaction, his nighttime tally long forgotten.

Chapter 9

HELEN

Helen was sitting on the edge of her bed, looking at the two dresses she had set out. One was the blue dress she had worn to Harry’s bar mitzvah, and the other was a black three-quarter-sleeve dress she had last worn when she was pregnant with the twins. She loved the first dress, with its soft chiffon skirt and flowing sleeves. She picked it up off the bed, walked over to the full-length mirror that was tucked in the corner of the bedroom and held it up in front of her. Just thinking about squeezing into it made her tired. She would never be able to get it over her hips, let alone zip it up.

She put the blue dress back in the tiny closet and turned to the black one. Helen had given away her other maternity dresses years ago, but she had saved this one because it had been her favorite at the time. “Some favorite,” she murmured to herself. It was a dull, tentlike affair in simple black silk, but at least she’d be able to breathe in it. “Looks like it’s you and me tonight,” she said to the dress. She had run out of lipstick again and decided to walk over to the drugstore before she started to get the boys ready. She was sure she would have to send Abe to the park to round them up. They would never remember to come home in time to clean up.

“Abe!” She called into the living room, where Abe was lying half asleep on the couch, his face covered by the sports section of the newspaper.

“Humm?” He pretended to be awake.

“I’m running down to the corner for some lipstick. I’ll be back in half an hour, and then you’re going to have to get the boys from the park.”

“Mmmm,” he mumbled. The paper dropped to the floor and he snored. She would have to wake him later.

When Helen got to the bottom of the steps, she knocked on Rose’s door. She wanted to see whether Rose needed anything from the drugstore. Plus, she could use some company. Abe had been asleep for most of the afternoon, and the boys had been at the park all day. She was tired of talking to herself.

Mimi opened the door with her hair pinned up in curlers. She was already wearing her dress for the restaurant, a pink flowered print with smocking on the front.

“Mimi! Don’t you look beautiful!”

Mimi nodded as if the observation were a question. “I’ve been ready since this morning. Mommy made me take off my dress to eat lunch, but I put it back on after. I had to eat lunch in my bathrobe. See my ribbon?” She twirled around so Helen could see the back of her dress, tied in a perfect symmetrical bow.

“Very nice.” Helen took a seat on one of the kitchen chairs.

“I can’t sit down because I don’t want to ruin it. It took three tries to get it just right.” She pointed to the curlers in her hair “I’m keeping these in my hair until the very last minute so my curls will be nice and bouncy.”

“I’m sure they’ll be perfect.”

Mimi went to give her aunt a hug but stopped when she remembered her dress. Helen understood. “I’ll be careful not to wrinkle you.” She breathed in Mimi’s little-girl fragrance, all lilacs and peppermint instead of the dirt and sweat her boys always smelled of. The boys hardly ever let her hug them now, and if they did it was only if they were bleeding. Forget about trying to keep them clean. Helen tried to imagine what would happen if she had asked Sam, Joe or George to put on a suit and tie that morning. By now, the jackets would be lost, the shirts would be ripped and the ties would be hanging from a tree branch somewhere.

The boys tired her out more than usual these days. The younger three traveled as a pack, in constant and careless motion. They rarely spoke to her, and if they did, it was all at once and usually because they wanted to be fed. Harry barely looked at her. Most days she felt less like a mother and more like a lonely zookeeper working overtime.

She hugged Mimi a minute too long, letting her go only when Dinah teetered into the room in Rose’s heels. The five-year-old held out her wrists for inspection. “Smell!” she ordered.

“Did you use the big yellow perfume bottle or the small clear one?” Mimi asked.

“The little one.”

“What! She never lets
me
use that one!
Mommy!
” Mimi was already running out of the kitchen to find Rose. In the meantime, Helen rubbed noses with Dinah. “Are you excited for dinner tonight?” Dinah nodded, then rested her head against Helen’s shoulder. She let out a yawn. “If I’m good, I get to have dessert,” she whispered.

Helen leaned back against her chair, repositioning Dinah on her lap so they were both comfortable.

A few minutes later, Rose came into the room apologizing. “Mimi just told me you were here—she was so worked up about my perfume that she didn’t even mention you came in.” Helen scooted Dinah off of her lap and stood up.

“I’m out of lipstick again.” Helen frowned. “Everything is swelling. Even my lips! Anyway, I’m running to the drugstore. Need anything?”

“Would you mind taking Judith with you?” Rose lowered her voice. “I think she could use a little air.” Helen gave Rose a puzzled look, but it wasn’t the right time to say more. “Sure. I’d love some company.”

“Judith! Come here!” Rose called.

Judith answered from her bedroom, “I’m reading!”

“I need you to get me some aspirin!”

A few minutes later Judith appeared, cheeks red and eyes swollen. She had been crying.

“Hi, honey,” Helen said. “Ready to walk me to the drugstore?”

Judith managed a small smile. “Sure, Aunt Helen.”

“Let’s go then.” The two of them walked out of the house into the crisp September air. Judith was silent, busily picking at a stray thread on her sleeve. She was a full year younger than Harry, but to Helen she was more mature by far.

Helen had a soft spot for Judith, maybe because she was the daughter who always seemed to bear the brunt of Mort’s disapproval. Mimi and Dinah were more spirited girls, not as easily flattened by Mort’s moods.

When Judith was ten, she had won the poetry award at her elementary school’s end-of-year picnic. Helen and Rose had set up their blankets next to each other on the field. Helen still remembered what they brought for lunch that day: her cold fried chicken, Rose’s potato salad, homemade cookies and thermoses of iced tea. Helen had felt sorry for the family next to them with their limp tuna sandwiches. After eating, the boys ran off to play kickball, and Dinah followed Mimi to a patch of blacktop where she was playing jacks with some girls from her class. Only Judith remained on the blanket with them, reading one of her books. Rose looked to Helen for reassurance. She’s fine, Helen had mouthed, but she could tell Rose was worried.

After all the families had finished eating, the principal walked to the front of the school, where a makeshift podium was set up. The time had come for the awarding of prizes.

The science prize had gone to two fifth-graders for their experiment on tomato plants. The physical education prize went to Benjamin Wareham, for the third year in a row. By the time they got around to the poetry prize, most people had stopped paying attention. When Judith’s name was announced, Helen was already packing up their leftovers.

Judith hadn’t known about the award beforehand, so when her English teacher asked her to recite the poem she wrote, Judith looked nervous. After a few moments, however, she cleared her throat and began:

A friend is like a shining star

That sparkles in the sky.

A friend that’s good and kind is like

A twinkle in your eye.

But when a friend betrays your trust

The shining light goes dark,

And sadness dims what once was bright

Like water on a spark.

I told a friend my secret.

My heart was open wide,

Just like a fragile seashell

That shows the pearl inside.

My friend picked up the seashell

She took the pearl in hand.

And once she had possessed it,

She strung it on a strand.

She wore the pearl around her neck

And everyone could see.

She did not keep my secret.

She was no friend to me.

The crowd clapped politely, but they were clearly surprised by the severity of the poem. People were expecting something simpler from a ten-year-old girl—something about rainbows or butterflies. Not Helen. She was impressed.

“I don’t get it,” said Harry, and Helen had glared at him.

When Judith returned to the blanket with her certificate, the first one she showed it to was Mort. “Very nice,” he said blandly.

“Mrs. Curtis said I have a real way with words, and that my imagery is extremely vivid. She said I’m the best writer in the class.”

“Who’s the best at math?” Mort asked. Rose sucked in her breath, and Judith’s smile shriveled. She dropped her certificate on the grass and ran. Rose went after her. The rest of them gathered their things and walked home in silence.

More than two years had gone by since the picnic, but Helen worried that Mort and Judith would always have a strained relationship.

“So, are you excited to go to the restaurant tonight?” Helen asked. She was trying to walk carefully on the uneven sidewalk. The air smelled like onions and potatoes from the knish cart on the corner.

Judith would have preferred to stay at home, but she knew it was Helen’s brother who had invited them. “It should be fun,” she said. “Mimi and Dinah can’t stop talking about it. Especially Mimi.”

“I can tell. Did she wear that dress to bed last night?”

Judith played along with the joke. “Nah, that would have wrinkled it.” They walked a little longer.

When they got to the drugstore, the bell on the door announced their arrival. “Hi, Mrs. Feldman,” Helen called to the woman behind the counter. Helen pulled Judith toward the cosmetics section and grabbed a sample from the counter display. “How’s this one?” she asked.

“Too orange.”

“This one?”

Judith’s eyes widened, and she started to laugh. “It’s horrible!” She looked over the choices and handed a different tube to her aunt. “Try this.”

Helen gave the tube a twist, put some on her lips and looked in the tiny hand mirror. “Perfect! You can pick my lipstick anytime.” She winked at Judith. “Should we pick one for you?” Judith shook her head. “I’d rather have a candy bar.”

“Two Hershey bars, one bottle of aspirin and this lipstick, please, Mrs. Feldman,” Judith said, piling their items by the cash register.

They walked home together, nibbling on their chocolate bars.

Helen had to ask, “Do you want to tell me why you were crying?”

“It was nothing. Just something about my book. I’m reading a biography of Amelia Earhart.”

“Did the ending upset you?”

“I already knew what happened to her. It’s just … my father didn’t like it.”

“A biography of Amelia Earhart? What didn’t he like?”

Judith sniffed. She was trying not to cry, and her voice was shaking. “He said something about how she had her head in the clouds and look where that got her and how I’d better get my head out of the clouds too.”

“Oh honey.” Helen squeezed Judith’s hand.

“He’s just so
mean
sometimes.” Judith wiped the tears from her cheeks on her sleeve.

“It’s all right. Shhh.” Helen patted her back. “We’re going to have a nice time tonight—you’ll sit next to me.” When they got back to the house Helen offered some advice. “When you get inside, take a few tea bags from the kitchen and run them under the faucet. Lie down on your bed and put them on your eyes. They’ll take the puffiness away.”

“Thanks, Aunt Helen.”