In the Unlikely Event (16 page)

Miri didn't say any of the things she might have said to Henry alone. He was just thirteen years old when she was born. All of her childhood memories involved him. He was gentle with her and always kind. He never lied, never shied away from taking her questions seriously. When he went away to war she couldn't stop crying. Every morning and every night she prayed for him. She prayed to a god she didn't know, not the god from the High Holidays, but some other god, who wouldn't be too busy to listen. Every night when she sat down to supper with Rusty and Irene, they joined hands, bowing their heads and closing their eyes. That meant they were thinking of Uncle Henry, who was
over there
.

Irene pasted a blue star in her window, signaling she had a son in the military. When they had air raid practice at night, when the sirens went off and they lowered their blackout curtains, Rusty would lie next to her in bed and tell her stories about Uncle Henry when he was a little boy. She'd always end by promising Miri the war could never come to Elizabeth and no enemy could harm them or any of America. Miri believed her until recently. The day Henry came back from the war was the happiest day of Miri's life.

WHEN HENRY ORDERED
broiled lobster, Alma surprised everyone by saying she'd have one, too. “My friend has a cottage in Maine and when I visited we bought lobsters right off the dock.”

“I've never been to Maine,” Rusty said.

“I highly recommend it,” Alma told her.

Miri watched, fascinated, at the way Alma dissected her lobster, meticulously removing every bit of meat before eating a bite, dipping each piece into butter, uttering small sounds of satisfaction as she did. She was the last to finish her meal.

As the waiter was clearing their plates, Miri saw a tall man come up to Dr. O. Dr. O jumped up from the table. The men shook hands warmly, the taller one squeezing Dr. O's shoulder. Then Dr. O guided the tall man over to their table. “I'd like to introduce you to Henry Ammerman,” he said. “He's been covering the crash for the
Daily Post
. He's about to become famous.”

“You should write for the
Newark News
,” the tall man said. “You want an interview, I can set one up.” Then he put out his hand and introduced himself. “Abner Zwillman. Abe, to friends. Very pleased to meet you.” His suit and tie and polished shoes looked expensive. His dark hair was threaded with silver and slicked back. In his hand he held an unlit cigar. He looked around the table. “And who is this ravishing young lady?”

Miri thought he was talking about her because of the
young lady
business—but then she realized he was focused on Rusty.

“Rusty Ammerman,” Dr. O said, making introductions. “Henry's lovely sister.”

Abner/Abe took Rusty's hand and kissed it.
“Enchanté,”
he said, making Rusty blush.

“You know who that was?” Henry said to Rusty, when Abner/Abe was gone. “That was Longy Zwillman.”

“Oh, my gosh,” Rusty said, blushing an even deeper shade of pink. “That was Longy? Longy kissed my hand?”

“Yeah,” Henry said, “but that wasn't all he was thinking of kissing.”

“Henry, stop!” Rusty pretended to swat him with her pocketbook.

Aunt Alma looked shocked. But not so shocked that she wouldn't have liked a handsome man to be
enchanté
over her, too.

Then the waiter arrived with a dessert tray. “Banana cream pie, coconut cream pie and The Tavern's signature cheesecake, to die for.” They all protested. They were too full. But not for just a taste.

Ben Sapphire poured the last bit of Champagne into his glass, stood up and made one last toast. “To Leah and Henry. Terrible things can happen in this life but being in love changes everything. It gives you something to hold on to. From now on only good times, good health, good news!” Then he leaned over and kissed Irene on the cheek.

Yes, Miri thought, being in love changes everything.

JAN. 21 (UPI)—The President flew to Key West, Florida, yesterday for a lengthy visit to his “Little White House” retreat on the Navy base at the southernmost point of the United States. His arrival was greeted with full presidential courtesies—simultaneous 21-gun salutes from USS Gilmore and USS Yosemite in the harbor, and the playing of ruffles and flourishes followed by the national anthem by the Marine drum and bugle corps.

The President is able to continue working at this remote location thanks to thrice-weekly mail courier service from Washington. The USS Williamsburg, equipped with duplex radio teletype equipment, was dispatched ahead of the President's visit and moored at the Navy base. It will provide a classified circuit to the Navy Department and the White House.

This morning President Truman enjoyed his daily walk to the beach one mile away, where he swam in the Atlantic Ocean and watched his staff engage in a vigorous volleyball match. The movie “The Model and the Marriage Broker” will be shown in the living room this evening.

Mrs. Truman remained in Washington at the bedside of her mother, who is ill, and was unable to join her husband. They spoke on the telephone last night, which they will do every evening. He also spoke on the phone with his daughter, Margaret, who is performing in Birmingham.

14

Kathy

On Tuesday afternoon, January 22, Kathy Stein sat at her desk finishing her final exam in English lit, stealing glances at her watch,
praying she'd finish in time to make her plane from Syracuse to Newark. She had a taxi lined up to deliver her to the airfield, and the second she turned in her blue book she raced out of Slocum Hall, taking the steps two at a time, never mind the ice, and was relieved to see the cab waiting. She tossed her bag into the backseat and told the driver to step on it. He handed her a line about the weather. “You want to get there in one piece, or not?” Well, yes, she wanted to get there in one piece, but she
wanted
to get there. The driver had the heat turned up to what felt like 100 degrees but there was nothing to do about that but roll down her window. “It's not enough I have a sore throat?” The driver coughed to make his point. “You want me to get pneumonia?”

She paid him, leapt out before he'd come to a full stop and ran for the field. When she saw that her plane would be half an hour late, she relaxed. She was one of four students from Syracuse waiting to board American Airlines Flight 6780 heading to Newark Airport. Like her, they'd finished their exams and were going home for a break before second semester began. Kathy was the only girl among them, making her wish her roommate, Jane, had been able to come. She kidded around with the boys while they waited, bought a pack of Juicy Fruit and a copy of
Silver Screen
to distract her during the flight.

The weather was nasty, but who cared? Her cousin Phil would be meeting her at Newark, and he'd promised to bring his friend Steve Osner. Not that she and Steve had talked about officially dating or anything, but he liked her—she could tell. There was definitely an attraction between them. Not to mention that sweet Happy New Year kiss. She wasn't going to worry about the difference in their ages. Everyone knew that wives outlived their husbands.

The plane had already picked up passengers in Buffalo and Rochester when it finally landed in Syracuse. Kathy boarded and was seated next to an older man, who introduced himself as Robert Patterson. When he asked what she was studying she hid her movie magazine, not wanting him to think she was some dumb girl. He was very friendly. Told her he had a son and three daughters. Told her he was the former Secretary of War under President Truman.
Gads, Kathy thought, he was someone important, someone famous.

He wanted to know her plans for the future. Said it was never too early to have goals. She was embarrassed. She'd never really thought beyond graduating from the college of home economics, marrying someone with possibilities and having a couple of kids. “I'm going to work for a food magazine,” she said, trying to impress him. Working for a magazine sounded glamorous to her. She'd have to live in New York. She was pretty sure that's where the magazines had their offices. Or she could commute.

By the time they began their descent into Newark, she had it all worked out in her head. She'd marry Steve Osner, work for a magazine in New York until they had children and live in Elizabeth, in the same pretty neighborhood as Steve's parents, where the streets were named after poets—Kipling, Browning, Byron, Shelley. When she'd mentioned to Steve that she loved the names of the streets around his house Steve had seemed surprised. “Really?” he'd asked. “English poets?” Oh, well, the required freshman English lit course would fix that.

It had been a bumpy trip, and she was starting to feel queasy. “I don't like it when I can't see the ground,” she told Secretary Patterson.

He told her to focus on something straight ahead. Don't look out the window. She figured he knew, being a former Secretary of War and all. So she focused on the fasten-seat-belt sign, willing herself not to give in to the waves of nausea rolling over her.
Focus…focus…think about Steve, who'd be there when she landed. Should she give him a hug? Would that be too forward?
“I actually hate it when I can't see the ground,” she said.

Secretary Patterson took her hand. He smiled at her. “It will be okay,” he said in a very reassuring voice. She nodded. It would be okay.

Steve

Steve and Phil cut American history, their last class of the day, to meet Kathy at the airport. After umpteen years of American history
they still hadn't made it to World War II, never mind Korea. Phil borrowed his mother's car that morning, a blue Ford convertible, but given today's foggy, rainy weather, they couldn't put the top down the way they'd planned. Who in their right minds would put the top down in the middle of January, anyway? Assuming Steve and Phil were in their right minds, and some people might dispute that, starting with their American history teacher.

He and Phil couldn't wait until graduation. They already had summer jobs lined up at Shackamaxon Country Club as parking attendants. Both the Osners and the Steins were members. Maybe Phil's cute cousin would spend time around the pool. Yeah, that'd be good. He wouldn't mind getting a long look at Kathy in a bathing suit. Ever since they'd kissed on New Year's Eve he'd been thinking about her. He and Phil were already trying to decide which fraternity to pledge when they got to Syracuse next fall. Kathy had given them the lowdown on each. Not that they'd know if they were accepted at the college until April, but with their grades, SAT scores and sports, they weren't worried.

Newark Airport was just three miles from Jefferson High School. They hit some traffic on Route 1 because of the rain but they still made it in plenty of time. They parked in the airport lot, then ran from the car to the terminal. No umbrellas for them. Only pansies carried umbrellas, they told themselves, shaking the water off their heads. They planned to meet Kathy at the gate. Instead they met her mother, Phil's aunt, who decided to pick up Kathy after all. “In this weather I didn't want you boys to have to drive all the way to Perth Amboy, then back to Elizabeth.”

Steve tried to hide his disappointment. He'd had a different idea about how the afternoon would go, and it didn't include Kathy's mother.

Laura

Laura Barnes didn't like this weather. She looked out the window of her first-floor apartment on South Street, holding the baby in her arms. Today's flight was nothing, she reminded herself. Just a
Convair 240 on a milk run. Something Tim had done hundreds of times. He could do it in his sleep. Not that he would, but still…On the kitchen radio Patti Page was singing “Tennessee Waltz.” Laura began to dance around with the baby in her arms. Heather squealed with delight. Laura paused again at the living room window. This fog is crazy, she thought. They never had fog in January. And all this rain. It must be the January thaw.

Her three-year-old was still napping. If only she could get the baby to sleep, she'd be able to rest her back, which was killing her. She was pregnant with their third child, expecting in July. She and Tim were both secretly hoping for a boy after two girls, though neither would admit it. On Valentine's Day they'd be moving into their new house down the shore, with enough room for three children, not to mention two full baths. She'd never had her own bath—well, she'd be sharing with Tim, but still—a
grown-ups only
bathroom.

Their apartment was already feeling cramped. Even though her parents owned this house and lived upstairs, which was a huge help, she was ready for the move. They'd worked on the new house all weekend while her parents watched the girls. She measured for curtains in the bedrooms, and lined the kitchen shelves with wallpaper in a pretty pattern left over from her cousin's new kitchen, while Tim worked on building a cedar closet in the attic.

Before driving back they'd stopped for a shore dinner to celebrate their anniversary. She promised that next time she'd at least
taste
the lobster. Tim laughed. He was more adventurous than her in every way, but he didn't seem to mind. Only a month ago he'd returned from Korean airlift duty. Then it was a round-trip to Tokyo. She was so proud of her husband. He'd seen the world. Someday, when the children were grown, she'd travel with him.

She'd already prepared a meat loaf for supper. Tim loved her meat loaf. She just had to pop it in the oven. The potatoes were peeled, sitting in ice water, ready for boiling. She'd take out the frozen peas at the last minute. Bird's Eye vegetables were a godsend, never mind what her mother said. Of course, nothing beat her mother-in-law, Helen's, cooking. She'd be at work now in the Osners' fancy kitchen, watching over Dr. Osner's little girl while preparing dinner for the
family. Maybe someday, when Helen retired and had more time, she'd help out Laura, moving down the shore and taking care of the three kids. Then Laura could go back to school, get her degree in education and teach kindergarten or first grade. At the very least, Helen could show her how to fix those fancy meals she made for the Osners.

The baby jumped up and down in her arms until she started dancing again. She sang along with Patti Page.
“I was dancin' with my darlin' to the Tennessee Waltz…”

Miri

Miri and Natalie rode the #24 bus from school, got off at the corner of Shelley and Magie, then walked down to the Osners' house. In the kitchen Fern was dunking Oreos in milk while Mrs. Barnes prepared dinner. Whatever she was browning on the stove smelled delicious. The salad leaves were drying in a cloth towel, waiting to be torn into an ebony bowl with Corinne's initials in silver.
CMO
for “Corinne Mendelsohn Osner.” Someday, when Miri was married with her own house, she would have the same salad bowl with
her
initials in silver.
MAM
for “Miri Ammerman McKittrick”—if she married Mason. But would Irene ever forgive her for marrying a boy who wasn't Jewish? Maybe she would just spell out
MIRI
and leave her husband out of it.

“Will Tim fly over our house today?” Fern asked Mrs. Barnes.

“I expect so,” Mrs. Barnes said. “Any minute now, unless they were delayed by the weather.”

Fern pretended to feed an Oreo to her cowboy bunny. “Roy Rabbit might be a pilot when he grows up.”

“I hope he's smart,” Mrs. Barnes said, “because you have to be smart to be a pilot.”

“Don't worry,” Fern said. “Roy Rabbit is very smart.”

Natalie grabbed a bunch of green grapes and she and Miri headed for the den, where the windows looked down on a stand of Japanese cherry trees, bare now, but come spring she knew they'd be heavy
with pink blossoms. She wished it could be spring now. Then she and Mason wouldn't have to worry about where to go to be alone and warm.