Fine things (10 page)

“It's difficult for her, but she'll get used to it eventually.”

“What about you, Dad?” Bernie looked at him directly. “Is it all right with you?” It was crazy, but in a way he wanted his father's blessing. “She's a wonderful girl.”

“I hope she makes you happy.” His father smiled at him, and patted Ruth's hand again. “I think I'll take your mother home now. She's had a hard night.” She glared at both of them, and began to open the package Bernie had brought her. She had the box open and the handbag out of the tissue paper a moment later.

“It's very nice.” Her lack of enthusiasm was easily discerned as she looked at her son, attempting to convey the extent of the emotional damage he had caused her. If she could have sued him, she would have. “I never wear beige.” Except every other day, but Bernie did not point that out to her. He knew that the next time he saw her she would be wearing the bag.

“I'm sorry. I thought you'd like it.”

She nodded, as though humoring him, and Bernie insisted on picking up the check, and as they all walked out of the restaurant, she grabbed his arm. “When are you coming back to New York?”

“Not until spring. I leave for Europe tomorrow, and I'm flying back to San Francisco from Paris.” He felt less than pleased with her after what she had just put him through, and he was not warm toward her.

“You can't stop in New York for one night?” She looked crushed.

“I don't have time. I have to be back at the store for an important meeting. I'll see you at the wedding, if you come.”

She didn't answer at first, and then she looked at him just before she entered the revolving door. “I want you to come home for Thanksgiving. This will be the last time.” And with those words, she passed through the revolving door and emerged again on the street, where she waited for Bernie.

“I'm not going to prison, Mother. I'm getting married, so this is not the last anything. And hopefully, next year, I'll be living in New York again, and we can all have Thanksgiving together.”

“You and that girl? What's her name again?” She looked at him mournfully, pretending to have a memory lapse, when he knew perfectly well that she could have recited every single detail she'd heard about “that girl,” and probably described the photographs in detail too.

“Her name is Liz. And she's going to be my wife. Try to remember that.” He kissed her and hailed a cab. He didn't want to delay their departure a moment longer. And they had to pick up their car, which they'd parked near his father's office.

“You won't come for Thanksgiving?” She hung out of the cab, crying at him again as he shook his head, and physically pushed her inside to her seat, in the guise of assistance.

“I can't. I'll talk to you when I get back from Paris.”

“I have to talk to you about the wedding.” She was hanging out the window and the driver was starting to snarl.

“There's nothing left to say. It's on December twenty-ninth, at Temple Emanuel, and the reception is at a little hotel she loves in Sausalito.” His mother would have asked him if she was a hippie but she didn't have time as Lou gave the driver the address of his office.

“I don't have anything to wear.”

“Go to the store and pick something you like. I'll take care of it for you.”

And then she suddenly realized what he had said. They were getting married at the temple. “She's willing to get married in temple?” She looked surprised. She didn't think Catholics did things like that, but she was divorced anyway. Maybe she'd been excommunicated or something like that.

“Yes. She's willing to get married in temple. You'll like her, Mom.” He touched his mother's hand, and she smiled at him, her eyes still damp.

“Mazel tov.” And with that, she pulled back into the cab, and they roared off thundering over the potholes, as he heaved a huge sigh of relief. He had done it.

Chapter 10

They spent Thanksgiving at Liz' apartment with Jane, and Liz' friend, Tracy. She was a pleasant woman in her early forties. Her children were grown and gone. One was at Yale and wasn't coming home for the holidays, the other, a daughter, was married and lived in Philadelphia. Her husband had died fourteen years before, and she was one of those cheerful, strong people whom misfortune had struck often and hard, and yet managed not to be a downer. She grew plants and loved to cook, she had cats, and a large Labrador, and she lived in a tiny apartment in Sausalito. She and Liz had become friends when Liz had first begun to teach, and she had helped her with Jane frequently during those first difficult years when Liz was saddled with a very young child and no money. Sometimes she babysat for her just so she could scrape a few dollars together and go to a movie. And there was nobody happier than Tracy over Liz' sudden good fortune. She had already agreed to be matron of honor at the wedding, and Bernie was surprised at how much he liked her.

She was tall and spare and wore Birkenstock shoes, and she came from Washington State, and had never been to New York. She was a warm earthy person, totally foreign to his more sophisticated ways, and she thought he was the best thing to have ever happened to Liz. And he was perfect for her. Perfect in the way her husband had been before he died. Like two people carved from the same piece of wood, made to fit, made to blend, made to be together. She had never found anyone like him again, and she had stopped trying a long time since. She was content with her simple life in Sausalito, a few good friends, and the children she taught. And she was saving money to go to Philadelphia to see her grandchild.

“Can't we help her, Liz?” Bernie asked her once. It embarrassed him to drive an expensive car, buy expensive clothes, give Liz an eight-carat diamond ring and Jane a four hundred dollar antique doll for her birthday when Tracy was literally saving pennies to see a grandchild she had never seen in Philadelphia. “It's just not right.”

“I don't think she'd take anything from us.” It still amazed her to no longer have to worry, although she was adamant with Bernie that she would take no money from him before the wedding. But he was burying her in extravagant presents.

“Won't she at least take a loan?” And finally, unable to stand it any longer, he had broached the subject with Tracy after they cleared the table on Thanksgiving. It was a quiet moment while Liz put Jane to bed, and he looked at her as they sat by the fire.

“I don't know how to ask you this, Tracy.” In some ways, it was worse than battling his mother, because he knew how proud Tracy was. But he liked her enough to at least try it.

“You want to go to bed with me, Bernie? I'd be delighted.” She had a wonderful sense of humor and her face was still that of a very young girl. She had one of those fresh, clear-skinned, blue-eyed faces that never grew old, like old nuns, and certain women in England. And like them, she always had dirt under her nails from her garden. She often brought them roses, and lettuce and carrots, and tomatoes.

“Actually, I was thinking of something else.” He took a deep breath and plunged in, and a moment later she was in tears and silently reached out to him and held his hand tight in her own. She had strong cool hands that had held two children and a husband she loved, and she was the kind of woman one wished had been one's mother.

“You know, if it were something else …like a dress, or a car, or a house, I'd turn you down flat…but I want to see that baby so much … I'd only take it as a loan.” And she insisted on traveling standby to save him money. And finally, unable to stand it any longer, he went to the airlines himself, bought her a business-class ticket on a flight to Philadelphia, and they saw her off the week before Christmas. It was their wedding gift to her, and it meant everything to her. And she promised to be home on the twenty-seventh, two days before the wedding.

Christmas was hectic for all of them. He managed to take Jane to see Santa Claus at the store, and they celebrated Chanukah too that year. But they were so busy moving into the new house that everything seemed doubly hectic. Bernie moved into it on the twenty-third, and Jane on the twenty-seventh. Tracy came back that night and they picked her up at the airport, and she just beamed, and cried as she hugged all three of them and told them about the baby.

“He's got two teeth! Can you beat that at five months!” She was so proud that they teased her all the way home, and took her to their new house to show her their progress It was a cute little Victorian on Buchanan, teetering on a hill, right near a park where Liz could take Jane after school. It was exactly what they wanted, and they had rented it for a year. Bernie was hoping they'd be gone before that, but the store could buy out his lease if they had to.

“When are your parents coming in, Bernie?”

“Tomorrow night.” He sighed. “It's like waiting for a visitation from Attila the Hun.” Tracy laughed. She would be grateful to him for a lifetime for the trip he had given her, and he had absolutely refused to make it a loan.

“Can I call her Grandma?” Jane asked with a yawn, as they sat in their new living room. It felt good to be living under one roof finally, and not running around between three places.

“Sure you can call her Grandma,” Bernie answered casually, silently praying that his mother would let her. And a little while later, Tracy took her car out of their garage and drove home to Sausalito, and Liz climbed into their new bed in their new house and put her arms around Bernie's neck. She was snuggling up next to him when they heard a small voice next to the bed and Bernie jumped a foot as Jane tapped him on the shoulder.

“I'm scared.”

“Of what?” He was attempting to look very proper as Liz lay under the covers and giggled.

“I think there's a monster under my bed.”

“No, there's not. I checked the whole house before we moved in. Honest.” He tried to look sincere, but he was still embarrassed to be caught in bed with her mother.

“Then it got in afterwards…. The moving men brought it.” She sounded genuinely upset and Liz emerged from the sheets to look at her daughter with a raised eyebrow.

“Jane O'Reilly, you go right back to bed.”

But she started to cry instead and clung to Bernie. “I'm too scared.”

“What if I go upstairs and we check for monsters together?” Bernie felt sorry for her.

“You go first.” And then suddenly she looked from him to her mother and then back to Bernie. “How come you're sleeping in Mommy's bed if you're not married yet? Isn't that against the law?”

“Well, no …sort of…actually, it's just not usually done, but in some cases it's …it's more convenient …you see …“Liz was laughing at him, and Jane was staring at him with interest. “Why don't we go look for the monster?” He put his legs over the side of the bed, grateful that he had worn the bottoms of an old pair of pajamas. Actually, he had worn them in Jane's honor, and he was glad he had now.

“Can I get into bed with you?” She glanced from him to her mother, and Liz groaned. She had been that route with her before, and whenever she gave in, it meant three weeks of arguments afterwards.

“I'll take her up to bed.” Liz started to get up but he stopped her with a pleading look.

“Just this once …it's a new house …” Bernie intervened and Jane beamed at him and slipped a hand into his. They had an enormous king-size bed, and there was room for all of them, although it certainly curtailed Liz' plans for the evening.

“I give up.” She threw herself back on her pillow, and Jane climbed over Bernie like a friendly mountain, and hurled herself into the small gap between them.

“This is fun.” She grinned at her benefactor and then her mother, and Bernie told her funny stories about when he'd been a little boy, and when Liz fell asleep they were both still talking.

Chapter 11

The plane touched down twenty minutes late because of bad weather when they left New York, but Bernie was waiting at the airport. He had decided to come alone, he wanted to get his parents settled at the Huntington first, and then Liz was going to join them for cocktails. They were going to have dinner at L'Etoile, which brought back happy memories for them, of the night they'd spent at the hotel, making love for the first time and when he'd given her the engagement ring. And he had ordered a special dinner beforehand. His parents were going on to Mexico afterwards, and he and Liz were leaving for Hawaii after the wedding. So this was their only chance to spend a quiet evening together. His mother had wanted to come out the week before, but with Christmas at the store, sales to plan, and moving into the new house, there just wasn't time to spend with her, and Bernie had told her not to.

He stood watching the first passengers disembark, and then he saw a familiar face in a fur hat and a new mink coat. She was carrying a Louis Vuitton traveling bag he had given her the year before, and his father was wearing a furtrimmed overcoat, and his mother was actually smiling when she threw her arms around him.

“Hello, darling.” She clung to him briefly but in an airport he expected it as he smiled down at her, and then glanced at his father.

“Hi, Dad.” They shook hands and he turned his attention to his mother again. “You're looking wonderful, Mom.”

“So are you.” She scrutinized his face. “A little tired maybe, the rest in Hawaii will do you good.”

“I can hardly wait.” They were planning to stay for three weeks. Liz had gotten a leave of absence from school, and they were both looking forward to it. And then he saw his mother glancing around curiously.

“Where is she?”

“Liz didn't come. I thought I'd get you settled at your hotel first, and then she'll meet us for dinner.” It was four o'clock, and it would be five before they got to the hotel. He had told Liz to meet them at the bar at six, and their dinner reservation was for seven o'clock, which would be ten o'clock for them. With the time change, they would be tired that night, and there was a lot going on the next day. The ceremony at Temple Emanuel, the luncheon at the Alta Mira Hotel, and then their flight to Hawaii …and his parents' flight to Acapulco.

“Why didn't she come?” His mother looked prepared to be annoyed, and Bernie smiled, hoping to head her off at the pass. She never changed, but somehow he always thought that she might. It was as though he had expected someone else to get off the plane with his father.

“We've had so much to do, Mom. With the new house and everything …”

“She couldn't come to meet her mother-in-law?”

“She's meeting us at the hotel.”

His mother smiled at him bravely, and then tucked her hand into his arm as they walked to the baggage claim. But she seemed in fairly good spirits for once. There were no reports of neighbors who had died, relatives getting divorced, products that had gone amuck and killed dozens of innocent people. And she didn't even complain when one of her suitcases almost didn't turn up. It was the last one off the plane, and Bernie grabbed it with a sigh of relief and then went to get the car to drive them into town. He chatted about the wedding plans all the way in, and his mother loved the dress she had picked out at Wolffs a few weeks before. She said it was light green and it suited her very well, but she wouldn't tell him more than that. And then he chatted with his father for a little while, and they arrived at the hotel and he dropped them off and promised to return in an hour.

“I'll be back in a little while,” he assured them, like children he was leaving somewhere, and he hopped in his car and went home again, to shower and change himself and pick Liz up. She was still in the shower when he got in, and Jane was in her room, playing with a new doll. But she was looking wistful these days and he wondered if the new house was bothering her. She had spent the previous night with them, and he had promised Liz it wouldn't happen again.

“Hi, there…. How's your friend?” He stopped in the door of her room and looked down at her. And she looked up at him with a small wintry smile as he walked into the room and sat down next to her. And then suddenly she laughed at him.

“You look just like Goldilocks.” She giggled and he grinned.

“With a beard? What kind of books do you read?”

“I mean 'cause you're too big for the chair.” He was sitting on one of her little chairs.

“Oh.” He put an arm around her. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“What does that mean? You worried about the monster under the bed again? We can check it out, if you like. But there's nothing there, you know.”

“I know that.” She looked at him haughtily as though she could never have said such a thing. Only babies did that. Or kids who wanted to spend the night in their mothers' beds.

“Then what's up?”

She looked him squarely in the eye. “You're taking my mom away …and for such a long time …” There were suddenly tears in her eyes and she looked bereft as she looked at him. And he was overwhelmed with guilt at the pain he had caused her.

“It's …well, it's our honeymoon …and Aunt Tracy will take good care of you.” But he didn't sound convinced and Jane looked positively morbid.

“I don't want to stay with her.”

“Why not?”

“She makes me eat vegetables.”

“What if I tell her not to?”

“She will anyway. That's all she eats. She says dead animals are bad for you.”

He winced, thinking of the dead animals he was about to eat at L'Etoile, and had been looking forward to. “I wouldn't put it quite like that.”

“She never lets me eat hot dogs or hamburgers or any of the good stuff I like …” Her voice trailed off miserably.

“What if I told her she had to let you eat what you want?”

“What's this all about?” Liz was standing in the doorway, wrapped in a towel, looking down at them, her blond hair cascading over her damp shoulders, as Bernie looked up at her with passion.

“We were just discussing something.” They both looked guilty when they looked at her.

“Are you still hungry, Jane? There are some apples and bananas in the kitchen.” Liz had already given her dinner, and a huge dessert.

“No, I'm okay” She looked wistful again and Liz beckoned to him.

“We're going to be late if you don't hurry up. She's okay, sweetheart.” But once the bathroom door was closed, he whispered to her.

“She's upset that we're going away for three weeks.”

“Did she tell you that?” Liz looked surprised as he nodded at her. “She hasn't said anything to me.” And then she smiled at him. “I think she's figured out that you're a softie.” She slid her arms around his neck with a smile. “And she's right.” The towel fell and he groaned as he felt her body against his.

“If you do that, I'll never get dressed.” He slowly took off his clothes, intending to get into the shower, but he couldn't take his eyes off of her, and his interest was obvious as he stood naked in front of her. She fondled him with lingering caresses, and he pressed her against the stack of towels next to the sink, and moments later he was kissing her and she was stroking him. He reached over and locked the door and turned the water on, and the bathroom filled with steam as they made love, and she had to fight not to scream, as she always did when she made love with him. It had never been like that for her before, but it was now, and they both looked pleased afterwards, as he stepped into the shower with a boyish grin. “That was nice…. First course … or hors d'oeu-vres?”

She looked at him mischievously. “Wait till you get dessert tonight…” He turned the shower on and sang to himself as he lathered up, and she stepped into it with him, and he was tempted to start all over again, but they had to get ready in a hurry. He didn't want to be late, or his mother would be annoyed when she met Liz, and he wanted to avoid that at all costs.

They kissed Jane good night, told the babysitter where everything was, and hurried out to the car. Liz was wearing a dress Bernie had bought for her, a pretty gray flannel with a white satin collar, and she wore it with a rope of pearls he had picked up at Chanel for her, and gray flannel Chanel shoes with black satin toes, and her huge engagement ring, her golden hair swept up, her makeup faint but impeccable, and pearl and diamond earrings on her ears. She looked alluring and demure and very beautiful and he could see that his mother was impressed when they met her in the hotel lobby. She looked at Liz searchingly, as though wanting to find something wrong, but as they walked downstairs to the bar, and Liz took his father's arm, she whispered to her son.

“She's a nice-looking girl.” From her, that was high praise.

“Bullshit,” he whispered back. “She's gorgeous.”

“She has nice hair,” his mother conceded. “Is it natural?”

“Of course,” he whispered back again, as they took a table and they ordered drinks. His parents ordered their usual, and he and Liz each ordered a glass of white wine, and he knew she wouldn't take more than a few sips of hers before they went into the other room for dinner.

“So.” Ruth Fine looked at her, as though she was going to pronounce sentence or tell her something terrible. “How did you two meet?”

“I already told you that, Mom.” Bernie interrupted her.

“You told me you met in the store.” His mother remembered everything just as he knew she would. “But you never explained.”

Liz laughed nervously. “Actually, my daughter picked him up. She got lost, and Bernie found her and took her for a banana split while they looked for me.”

“You weren't looking for her?” Liz almost laughed again. His description had been accurate. He had warned her what it would be like. The Spanish Inquisition in a mink hat, he had said, and he was right, but she was prepared for it.

“Yes, I was. We met upstairs. And that was that. He sent her some bathing suits, I invited him to the beach … a chocolate teddy bear or two”—she and Bernie smiled at the memory—“and that was it. Love at first sight, I guess.” She looked blissfully at Bernie and Mrs. Fine smiled at her. Maybe she was all right. Maybe. It was too soon to tell. And of course, she wasn't Jewish.

“And you expect it to last?” She looked searchingly at Liz, as Bernie almost groaned at the rudeness of the question.

“I do, Mrs. Fine.” Liz saw his mother staring at her enormous engagement ring, and she was suddenly embarrassed. His mother's was a third the size of the one he had bought her, and his mother had registered that fact with a practiced eye, like an appraiser.

“Did my son buy you that?”

“Yes.” Liz' voice was soft. She was still embarrassed about it herself but it was so beautiful, and she was deeply grateful for it.

“You're a very lucky girl.”

“Yes, I am,” Liz agreed as Bernie blushed beneath the beard.

“I'm the lucky one.” His voice was gruff, but his eyes were gentle.

“I hope you are.” His mother stared at him pointedly, and then back at Liz as the Inquisition continued. “Bernie says you teach school.”

She nodded. “Yes, I do. I teach second grade.”

“Are you going to continue doing that now?” Bernie wanted to ask her what business it was of hers, but he knew his mother too well to even try and stop her. She was in all her glory, interrogating Liz, the future wife of her only son. Looking at Liz, so sweet and blond and young, he suddenly pitied her and reached out and squeezed her hand with a warm smile, telling her with his eyes how much he loved her. His father was looking at her too, and thought she looked like a lovely girl. But Ruth wasn't quite as sure. “You'll go on working afterwards?” She pressed on.

“Yes, I will. I finish at two o'clock, I'll be home when Bernie comes home at night, and all afternoon with Jane.” It was hard to find fault with that, and the maitre d' came to lead them to their table then. When they sat down, she questioned them about the wisdom of living together before their wedding. She didn't think it was good for Jane, she said primly, as Liz blushed. He had told her it was only for two days and she was somewhat mollified, but everything was cause for comment that night. Not that the night was so different from any other. Ruth Fine always made comment on anything she chose to.

“Christ, and she wonders why I hate seeing her,” he said to Liz afterwards. Even his father's efforts to make the evening go more smoothly hadn't appeased him.

“She can't help it, sweetheart. You're her only child.”

“That's the best argument I've heard for having twelve of them. She drives me nuts sometimes. No, make that all the time.” He looked less than amused and Liz smiled at him.

“She'll relax. Or at least I hope she will. Did I pass the test?”

“Brilliantly.” He reached over and slid a hand up her dress. “My father was drooling over your legs all night. Every time you moved, I saw him look down at them.”

“He's very sweet. And he's a very interesting man. He was explaining several complicated surgical techniques to me and I think I actually understood them. I had some very nice talks with him while you talked to your mother.”

“He loves talking about his work.” Bernie looked at her tenderly. But he was still annoyed at his mother. She had been such a pain in the ass all night, but she always was. She loved torturing him. And now she had Liz to torture too, and maybe even Jane. The very thought depressed him.

He poured himself a drink before they went to bed that night, and they sat in front of the fire, talking of their wedding plans. He was going to dress at a friend's the next day. And Liz would dress at the house with Jane, and Tracy was coming, and she would go to the temple with them. Bernie was picking his parents up separately in a limousine. Bill Robbins, Liz' architect friend with the house at Stinson Beach, was giving her away. They had been friends for years, and although they didn't see much of each other, he was a serious man, and she liked him. And he seemed the appropriate choice for that role in her wedding.

They were both feeling mellow and happy as they stared at the fire and talked.