No One Must Know (17 page)

“A good thing, too,” Jean’s mother said.

Christie’s mother nodded her agreement.

“What do you mean, Mrs. Cowan?” Molly asked.

“Who are you talking about?”

Mrs. Cowan leaned forward and whispered in a confidential manner, “Why, Jews, my dear. Who else would I be talking about? Our membership committee has an unwritten rule not to let Jews into the club. Thank goodness none of you is Jewish.” She chuckled. “If even one of my Guides was a Jew, we couldn’t have held our tea in this beautiful facility.”

Mom’s grasp tightened so much that she was hurting my hand. Her face was ashen, then it turned a fiery red. As I stared at her, a flood of memories overwhelmed me – Mrs. Cowan’s insult to Jacob, the fight in the
bowling alley, the photographs I’d seen in the book at the library. I didn’t dare contemplate the memories that must have rushed to Mom’s mind.

I sat there rigidly, unable to speak, bound by my promise to her. Suddenly, she leaned toward me, pulled her hand out of my grasp, and quietly, with tremendous dignity and determination, said, “Tell them, my dear. Tell them.”

I turned to Mrs. Cowan. “I guess Mom and I should leave, then. We are two of ‘them.’ We are Jewish.”

A deathly silence greeted my announcement. Nine pairs of startled eyes focused on me.

I stood up. “Come on, Mom. Let’s go. We’re not wanted here.”

She rose from the table and put her arm around my shoulders. “I’m so proud of you,” she said.

Just then, Molly jumped to her feet. “If you’re leaving, Alex, I’m going with you!”

“So am I,” said her mother, standing up beside her.

Isabel and her mother were next to rise.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Isabel’s mother said to the Guide leader.

“What’s the matter with you people?” Mrs. Cowan cried. “Surely you’re not taking
their
side?” she asked, pointing her finger at us.

“It’s not a question of sides,” Mrs. Windsor said. “It’s a question of human decency.”

Just then, my eyes met Jean’s. Her face was contorted with hate.

“I knew something was going on when you started to go out with a dirty Jew,” she said. “But it never entered my mind that you were one yourself.”

“Shut up, Jean!” Molly snapped. “No one wants to hear your hateful opinions.”

As I turned to walk away, I caught one last sight of Christie and Jean, snickering away while Jean’s mother stared off into the air, sipping the coffee I had poured for her.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Molly asked on the way home.

“It’s a long story. We’ll talk later, when there’s more time.”

“I’m so sorry that you were subjected to that terrible woman,” Mrs. Windsor said. “She’s not fit to be around young people. I’m calling Guide headquarters tomorrow. They’ll be appalled to learn what happened this afternoon.” She looked at Molly in the rear-view mirror. “You’re not going back to Guides until she’s replaced.”

“I don’t want to,” Molly replied.

“Neither do I,” I said.

Soon, we pulled up in front of our house, and at last Mom and I were alone.

“They’re good people,” she said as she put the key into the lock. “I’m so glad Molly is your friend. She’s very loyal.” She sighed. “I wish I could say the same of Jean. I’m sorry about her. I know how much her friendship meant to you.”

I shook my head. “I didn’t know what she was really like.”

“I was very proud of you this afternoon, Alexandra,” she said, patting my cheek. “You’re a brave girl.”

“Not as brave as you, Mom!” I wiped away the tears that had welled up in my eyes. “Well, I guess Dad won’t be playing tennis at the Sports Club any longer.”

“Now you can understand why he never took us there.

He hated to lie on the application, but he knew their rule. All of his friends play there, and he couldn’t really explain why he wouldn’t join too.”

“I don’t blame him, Mom.”

“Neither do I. All the same, it’s not easy pretending to be somebody you’re not. Nobody knows that better than I.” She sighed again. “I thought I could spare you all this hurt, darling, but I was wrong. I should have realized that we can never escape our past. It’s just part of who we are.”

Later that evening, we told Dad everything. The fury in his face frightened me. He slammed his fist into his open
palm. “I wish there was something I could do to protect you,” he said. “But what can anyone do against such unreasoned hate? Nothing will change the minds of such ignorant people.”

“You’re right, Jonah,” Mom said. “And you were also right about everything else. I was wrong, We cannot make the past disappear. We are who we are as a result of it.” She smiled. “I was so afraid that people would find out who we are. Yet now that everything is out in the open, I feel as if a great weight has been lifted from my shoulders.”

“So do I,” Dad said. “It’s hard to live a lie, but there will be a price to pay now that the truth is out.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Some of my patients will leave me,” he said. “Don’t worry. It can’t be helped. We’ll manage somehow.”

“Well, I’m still glad that we don’t have to pretend any longer,” I said. “I feel free!” I flung my arms into the air. “I’ve been thinking about something else too,” I added. “You were right – I should have a birthday party. I’m not going to let Jean ruin it for me. Molly will help me plan it, and I’ll invite Isabel and some other girls from Guides.”

“Good girl!” Dad said, beaming at me.

“Can I also invite the boys from Jacob’s bowling team?”
Dad chuckled. “Why not?”

“I’ll take your new dress to Freddy’s tomorrow to be cleaned,” Mom said. “It’s time I met Jacob’s parents.” She stood up from her chair. “It’s cold outside, but it’s so fresh and beautiful. I feel like going for a walk.”

Dad stood up. “Good idea! Let’s go.”

“Jonah, would you mind if I went by myself?” Mom asked. “I have a lot of thinking to do.”

Dad and I just stared at her.

As she hobbled out of the room, Dad wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. I pretended not to notice.

Epilogue

I
looked around my room. The white-and-gold furniture, ruffled pink bedspread, and pink carpet looked so pretty. My eyes fell on my wall and the poster of Elvis in his army uniform. He was as cute as ever.

I walked to my dresser mirror and stared at the face looking back at me. The girl in the mirror looked sad and happy at the same time. I undid the clasp of the cross that was hanging under the collar of my shirt, hiding the silver necklace that Jacob had given me. The cross gleamed golden in my palm. I put it in my jewel box, under my rosary. It would always be special to me. The ballerina was twirling a mournful farewell as I closed the lid.

Next, I pulled out the Star of David and looked at it glistening brightly against my clothes. But I hesitated. I’m not ready, I said to myself. Not yet. And I slipped the necklace back into its hiding place under my collar.

I knew there were two more things that I had to do. First, I went downstairs and called Jacob to tell him that I would go with him to his next Jewish school class.

Finally, I sat down at my desk and took out a clean sheet of loose-leaf paper. I knew exactly what I wanted to write:

Dear Mom and Dad
,

Thank you.

I understand.

I love you.

Alexandra

Sometimes it’s easier to write what’s in your heart than it is to say it.