Portraits (16 page)

Jacob was less than tranquil. He was full of conflicting thoughts. He really wanted to dislike her, really…but—

“Aren’t you glad you came, Jacob?”

“What?”

“I said aren’t you glad you came?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you could show a little more enthusiasm than that. You know you’re having fun, why do you hold back?”

“Who’s holding back?”

“You are. You’re afraid you might enjoy yourself—”

It was becoming too much. The sound of her voice, lying in the sand so close to her…It was sheer—“Sara.”

“Yes, Jacob?”

“I think maybe we should get married.”

“You think so?”

“Yes.”

“Well, when did you decide that?”

“A minute ago.” He waited. “So?”

“I think that might be very sensible.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Jacob jumped up from his mound of sand and suddenly Sara found her hand in his as he lifted her to her feet. With the sand still clinging to their bodies he took her in his arms and kissed her with a force that surprised them both.

It was difficult, very, but he managed to say, “I…I love you, Sara.”

“And I love you, Jacob. I think I have for a little while now.”

He kissed her once again as Gittel approached. She took in the scene at a glance and was smiling knowingly.

Jacob picked up his oldest nephew and said, “Avrumchik, say hello to Tante Sara.”

She kissed the chubby cheek and then turned to Gittel. The two embraced as Gittel said, “You see? I told you.”

“You did…Gittel, I’m so happy.” …

Sara and Jacob waited for the streetcar that was taking Gittel and her family home. The lovers were going to complete the evening by going on all the rides at Coney Island.

Jacob held her hand on the carousel and held her close as they came down the winding chute-the-chute. Her lips tasted better than the pink cotton candy and he kissed her in between bites of ice cream.

What a wonderful day, Sara thought. There’d been few precious moments in her life, and suddenly she wanted to share this one with her mother. Late that night she sat down to write to her.

Dear mama,

Life works in mysterious ways. It seems we are deprived of one thing, then blessed with another. I thought it was the end of all my dreams when papa died. While he was alive, I could indulge my fantasies. As you know, I hoped to become a secretary. I’m afraid I inherited something of you—my ambitions—and like you I cannot stand mediocrity or poverty. But there is no need to repeat the past years’ events.

I hope you are sitting while reading this. I am going to be married. Jacob is the son of Mrs. Sandsonitsky. Should you wonder if I am in love—well, yes, I am. Jacob is not the kind of young man I thought I would be attracted to. He is rather a complex person, very difficult to know in the beginning, less educated than I, but I think we will be very happy together.

There is something strange that draws me to him. Perhaps it is because I know he too has great dreams, and with his ambition I have no doubt they will come true. He is the most handsome young man I have ever seen. I know we are right for each other and that together we will achieve a future life we both deserve. I need a home and someone to love and protect me.

I was sorry to hear about your separation from Louie and about your financial difficulties, and I regret that you will not be with me on my wedding day. But please do keep writing. Your letters mean so much to me.

Love,

Sara

Molly was desolate when she received Sara’s letter. She would not know the joy of seeing her child married. Her emotions that day brought back many painful memories. She knew that Harry had given up a great deal for her and she shook her head sadly when she thought that if she had been the kind of wife to him she had to Louie, Harry might have been changed, things might have worked out. If she had stayed, who knew what direction Sara’s life would have taken. Harry’s family was affluent and perhaps they would have embraced a grandchild…

But how foolish it was to dwell on what might have been. When she married Harry her thoughts had been unrealistic, clouded as usual with her visions of grandeur, and she hadn’t changed from that day to this. When she left Louie and moved to Oakland, California, to be with her brother and his wife…that too was the result of illusions. Not having seen each other since they had been children, Molly and Morris were unknown quantities to each other. Molly was not accustomed to living in someone else’s home, and Rose’s large brood of noisy children grated on her nerves.

So Molly had moved out and taken a dingy room in a boarding house, but the job she found in the hat factory paid less than enough to maintain even that meager style of living. With all things considered, she began to have second thoughts about having left Louie. It had become a litany: Louie was kind, comfortable, her loneliness was unbearable, her misery intolerable…The tears flowed as she wrote to him, but this time Molly was too late. He had died of a coronary. Whatever was left from the sale of the hotel would be hers, but at this moment her only worldly possession was a pair of small diamond earrings.

The next morning she pawned them and sent an eiderdown quilt to her daughter Sara as a wedding gift.

It made her feel at least a little more like a mother.

T
HE WEDDING WAS NONE
too soon for Jacob. How much could he take with Sara sleeping in the next room, just the other side of the wall.

Esther made the wedding arrangements and the
shul
was scheduled for the next Saturday night, right after sundown.

It seemed an eternity, but Saturday finally came. They stood under the blue velvet canopy and pledged their everlasting love. He lifted her veil…what a face, such a face. She drank from his cup of wine. He took a sip, then stomped on the glass.

“Mazel tov…mazel tov…”
Esther’s restaurant was packed with people from the neighborhood. Such a gorgeous wedding, such a beautiful bride, such a handsome groom, such lucky people…

They honeymooned at Coney Island on Sunday and Monday—Jacob was given the day off with his boss’s blessing and a wedding gift of ten dollars—and after their honeymoon Sara and Jacob stayed with Esther until they could find a flat.

The newlyweds took Esther’s double bed while she shared a room with Shlomo. The arrangement, although temporary, didn’t please her. It didn’t seem quite right for a mother to be sleeping in the same room with a growing son. As she blushed in the dark at the sound of heavy breathing and squeaky bed springs on the other side of the thin wall, she thought how happy she would be when they found a place of their own. That’s where lovers should be. Alone…

Esther said a silent prayer of thanks, when Sara told her, “Mama, we found a place uptown, in Washington Heights. Only two flights up and right near the bathroom. It will be so lovely when we fix it up, and Jacob loves it. Don’t you, Jacob?”

He returned the smile. “It’s real pretty.”

“Where’s Washington Heights?” Esther asked.

“A very nice neighborhood,” Shlomo told her.

“Wait till you see it, Shlomo,” Jacob said. “Sara’s got so many good ideas. I never saw anything so beautiful.”

At first Jacob had been uneasy about the rent. But after all, he wasn’t exactly a poor man, not with six hundred dollars in the bank, in cash…in the vault. He had a good job, his salary was seventeen dollars a week and just recently his boss had said he would get a raise. With all that, why shouldn’t he move up in the world, why not? He had Sara to thank for all this. She had shown him a different world and he could well afford it. If not for her, chances were he eventually would have married some girl whose world was limited to Rivington, Ludlow and Delancey Streets. The right wife showed a man how to live. No question about it.

When young Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Sandsonitsky spent the first night in their home, the smell of fresh paint still remained. Sara was truly amazing, Jacob thought as he surveyed the apartment. The kitchen was lime green with white woodwork and crisscross organdy curtains hung above the sink. On the window ledge were four pots of pink geraniums, and on top of the shiny yellow linoleum stood a round golden-oak pedestal table with heavy claw-and-ball feet. Surrounding the table were five tall chairs with spindle dowels held together by a wide carved panel. Jacob was fascinated with the carving. For a fleeting moment he was taken back to Frankfurt, to the umbrella handles, the ivory and wood chips on the worktable, Lotte…

Quickly, he walked into the bedroom, and the sight erased his memories as his gaze wandered from the imitation lace curtains to the flowered wallpaper they had had so much fun in choosing and hanging, from the dresser to the oval mirror attached by two crescent-shaped arms, to the comb, brush and mirror that lay on the white dresser scarf. Jacob’s heart skipped a beat when he looked at the tall brass bed. He touched the pink satin comforter—so inviting and soft, like Sara’s body, like Sara.

Tonight he would lay his head against the down pillows inside the white eyelet pillow slips. It had been expensive, but what was two hundred dollars compared to what he had received. In Jacob’s wildest dreams, he’d never imagined living in such style. Sara had not only lifted him to unbelievable heights of passion, but had provided a world he had never before known existed.

Jacob’s delight was only exceeded by Sara’s. Her chief thought when he had asked her to marry him was that she needed to have a home and to be loved. But she had thought Jacob was a poor young man, and now that she had acquired what she had so longed for all these years, her devotion to him was even greater. If only mama could see the way she was living…

The first Friday night they were settled in their new home the family came to dinner.

Sara brought the boiled carp to the table on a large blue willow-patterned platter. It looked delicious, with sliced carrots layered on top and parsley surrounding the edge. But when Sara started to serve them their portions no one could look at her. She had forgotten to gut the fish. Mortified, she quickly removed the platter and brought out the chicken soup. But it was watery and the
matzo
balls were hard as rocks. Then the chicken, but it was underdone. The
kugel
was like glue, and the
tsimmes
…Oh God, the whole thing was a complete disaster. She had worked from early in the morning, thinking how proud Jacob would be. The only salvation was the sponge cake and that must have been an accident.

Frustrated and embarrassed, she barely heard the conversation around her as the family sat drinking tea.

“I knew you were beautiful, Sara, but I didn’t know you had such talent. The flat is so pretty, like you,” Gittel said.

Sara smiled thinly.

“Well, Jacob, how does it feel to live in such a mansion?” Shlomo asked.

He beamed. “How does it feel? Wonderful.”

“Sara, you’re such a good housekeeper, everything is neat as a pin. That I should live to see my son so well off and happy, makes my heart really overflow,” Esther said. Somehow, the past was very close tonight. She well remembered Jacob’s troubles and she was deeply, sincerely happy for him.

Hershel said nothing. He wished them what they wished him. Jacob was a smug upstart and he, Hershel, was green with envy. Imagine how Gittel must feel, he thought, living in two rooms with two babies…

Sara cried as she lay in Jacob’s arms that night. “I’m so embarrassed. The dinner was terrible and I wanted it to be so wonderful.”

He wiped away her tears. “It wasn’t that bad…”

“It was terrible.”

“And if it was? So, it’s only a meal. You did the best you could and—”

“I’ll bet your mother thinks I starve you.”

“My mother doesn’t think anything like, that…you know her better.”

“All the same, our first dinner—”

“From where should you know how to cook?”

“Well, I’m going to learn. And I’ll be as good as your mother, you wait and see.”

“And if you don’t, I’ll still feel the same about you.”

“Just the same, I will learn. You’re never ever going to say your mother’s cooking is better than mine.”

“Would I ever compare—”

“Yes, husbands have a habit of—”

“That’s enough already, Sara…”

Soon the tears were gone…All was forgotten as the satin comforter slid to the floor unheeded…

S
ARA NOT ONLY LEARNED
to cook, but to grasp the edge of the bed when she tried to turn over. In her sixth month her belly was larger than Gittel’s had been at her ninth. Her legs were swollen and she had gained thirty pounds. She was so ill from the pregnancy and the oppressive September heat that she had to stay in bed most of the time.

All in all, impending motherhood left Sara so disenchanted that she wrote and asked her mother to come. Jacob was alarmed by her condition and helped all he could, and yes, she loved Jacob’s family. But no matter what, a mother was still a mother.

The answer Sara received did nothing to lift her depression.

My darling Sara,

Nothing would keep me away if I could come, believe me. But I opened a secondhand store with the money I finally received from the sale of the hotel and have no one to take over. Darling, if I don’t work, I don’t eat. Please God, if things begin to get better and I make a little money, the first thing I’ll do is come to see you and my new grandchild.

I pray you are feeling better by the time you get this letter. Give my love to your wonderful husband. I keep looking at the wedding pictures. They are my greatest happiness. May God continue to be good to you. I always miss you and love you. You are all I have now.

Your mother

You are all I have now…When did she, Sara, ever have Molly? Sara cried now for the same reasons she had cried in her childhood. Mama was never there…never. Still, poor mama—living alone must be hard, especially since Louie had really been her whole life. Sara had confused feelings of wanting and guilt. Mama’s life, she reminded herself, was sadder than hers. She at least had a home. She had Jacob.