Portraits (48 page)

“Five years now…”

He must be making a fortune, with a new De Soto and—

“My God, I don’t believe it, Doris, do you realize we’re already back in Oakland?”

Oakland…The Silvermans…“It’s none of my business, but how come you never married Sylvia?”

“Because I don’t love her.”

“She’s awfully nice and the Silvermans are such lovely people—”

“I know they are—”

“Well, then, how come you’ve been going together for three years?”

“Doris, this is where we began. I told you I just take her out from time to time…Well, here we are at your place.”

Yeah, here we are.

Sara was graciousness itself as she welcomed them at the front door.

“How was he?” she asked when she finally cornered Doris in the kitchen.

“Very nice…”

“Here, take this into the diningroom, Lillian. What did you do, Doris?”

“We took a ride to Santa Cruz and then went to lunch.”

“Doris, I hope you watched your diet.”

“Yes, I was very careful.” Well, at least not one piece of bread and butter.

Doris followed as Sara imperiously announced dinner.

Thanks to Dr. Henry Levin it was like old times tonight—no rabbit food. But mama was still keeping an eye on Doris’ plate.

“May I help you to more
kugel
, Henry?”

“No thanks, but it was really wonderful. I haven’t eaten like this in years.”

“Oh, Henry, how can you say that with a Jewish mother?” Sara asked.

“I love my mother, but she can’t cook like you, Mrs. Sanders.”

When a young man said someone cooked better than his mother, it was tantamount to a proposal. She brought in the two cakes. “Strawberry shortcake or plain?”

“The strawberry, thanks…Did you really bake these?” Henry asked in honest admiration.

“Yes, of course.”

“Well, it’s the best I’ve ever had.”

“Oh, thank you, Henry. Doris is a very good cook too, you know.”

Oh my God, and I can’t even boil water without burning it, Doris thought.

Jacob ate as usual, without compliments or comments. But he liked this young man, and after he was through he suggested they all go to the livingroom.

“How long have you been in practice?”

“Five years…”

The story was fascinating, but once in one day was enough. Doris wished mama would get out of the kitchen so she could go in and sneak a piece of strawberry shortcake, which she’d been denied at dinner.

Seeing Sara finally come back into the livingroom after her chores, Doris excused herself, went through the hall and proceeded to the kitchen. When she got there and rummaged through the refrigerator she found that mama had outsmarted her…She’d thrown out the strawberry shortcake.

Frustrated, she walked back and settled herself into a chair as far away from Henry as possible. Everyone was still listening to his saga.

Jacob was definitely pleased…he’d met a
landsman.
“You were born on Chrystie Street?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, it’s a small world. I used to box at a gym—”

“
What?
You never told me you boxed,” Sara said, astonished.

He looked at her, then turned back to Henry…“Now doctor—”

“Henry.”

“Yes, Henry, well anyway, I think it’s wonderful that you brought you whole family out here and supported them.”

“Well, I don’t exactly support them, I’ve just made it possible for us all to live together.”

“I still give you a lot of credit for doing that and for working your way through college. You see, Sara? If a person wants something enough he’ll find a way. And you once told me it was all luck.”

This time Sara ignored him. “What decided you to become a doctor, Henry?”

“I always wanted to be a doctor, but especially when I saw the way my father and brothers struggled without a profession.”

“That’s admirable, Henry.” Sara smiled.

Well, this could go on far into the night, Doris thought. Her mother was being just too obvious…you’d think
she
was being courted by Henry. Before she could catch herself, she yawned. Sara’s eyes opened wide at her in an expression not uncommon to Jewish mothers. It meant any number of things, such as: stop yawning, act interested or I’ll speak to you later—and that’s exactly what mama did…

When Doris finally said goodnight and stood against the door, Sara said, “When is he calling you?”

“He didn’t say, and besides, I can’t go out with him again—”

“You what?” Jacob said. “Let me see if I heard you right…”

“I said I can’t go out with him again, papa.”

Jacob’s foot began to tap rapidly, a sure sign he was about to blow up. “For the first time you meet a fine gentleman—not only nice but a Jewish doctor—and you’re not going to see him again? All I’ve heard from you is that you’re going to wind up being an old maid. And you know something? You will. What’s wrong with you, Doris? Your mother’s right, you should have your head examined. Damn it, in the old country children listened to parents. Here in America children do what they want, ruin their lives and to hell with the parents.”

“But you’re not going out with him, I am.”

“I thought you just said you weren’t.”

She started to cry. “I don’t know what I said. You’re both mixing me up.”

As she ran up the stairs to her room, Jacob called out, “If you weren’t mixed-up, you wouldn’t say—”

She slammed the door and Jacob looked at Sara in exasperation. “First we have one who marries a
goy
old enough to be her father, and now we’ve got one who’s total
meshugge
. I don’t understand any of this.” Walking up the stairs, he continued to mumble, “It could only happen in America…”

Trailing behind him, Sara said, “Now you see what a parent goes through. You only want the best for them but they fight you every step of the way.”

He nodded. On this, at least, they were together.

Now Doris knew what Jennie Harrison had meant that Easter Sunday so long ago when she’d told Doris about purgatory. But Doris’ soul wasn’t burning in hell; it was burning in Oakland, California.

On Monday she sat across from Murial at Clinton’s Cafeteria and for once the cottage cheese stuck in her throat.

“Where did you go yesterday, Doris? We tried to call and thank you for the party, and say how sorry we were we didn’t stay and help after.”

Doris finally managed to swallow the lump of cottage cheese. “That’s okay, I didn’t mind cleaning up. It was no big thing.” She hoped that would divert Murial from the first part of her question, but no such luck.

“What did you do yesterday?”

It was like the Spanish Inquisition. “Oh, stayed home and cleaned closets…”

Murial frowned. “That’s funny. Your mother said you were out on a date.”

Doris took a long drink of water. “My mother said that?”

“Yeah…”

“She didn’t say you called.”

“I did, about one. What did you do?”

Oh, how she wished she could disappear. “Went for a ride.”

“Really? Who with?”

Oh, boy, think fast, Doris. “With a cousin of my aunt’s.”

“What aunt?”

“My Aunt Nadine.”

“You never told me about your aunt’s cousin.”

“Didn’t I?” Doris answered a little too brightly.

“No. A guy or a—”

“Girl.”

“Your mother made it sound like a guy. She said, ‘Doris isn’t home, she has a date.’ Gee, and here I was really so glad.”

“Sure, well, it was a bore and besides, my mother has a habit of making things sound like what they’re not.”

“Oh, I think she’s really very sweet, Doris.”

Doris swallowed. “She’s darling. Anyway, what time did you get home after the party?”

“About three. We all went to Checker’s, except Sylvia and Henry. He said he was tired and wanted to make the one-thirty boat. Poor Sylvia, when the heck is she going to wake up? Well, anyway, everyone went to Eva’s and danced for a while. Her folks are away in Los Angeles and, boy, did we have fun. Sid got fresh…” Murial giggled. “And Pearl got into a little heavy necking with Marty—I mean, heavy. Ben got high and started a fight so the fellows made him lie down in his car.”

“Boy, that sure sounds like—God, Murial, I’ve got to run.”

“Talk to you tonight, Doris.”

“Yes, sure, call.”

After closing time at Goldman’s Doris was summoned to the office.

“Yes, Mr. Goldman?”

He looked over the rim of his glasses and Doris knew beyond a doubt that he was furious.

“Take a look at these sales tags—”

Doris looked them over, then at Mr. Goldman. “What seems to be the matter, Mr. Goldman?”

“Can’t you add, Doris? We’re not a charity organization. Add up this tag.”

Doris looked down at the charges. They totaled seventy-three dollars when she added them up, but the tag she’d written up said fifty-one dollars. God, how could she have made such a terrible mistake? She’d been upset all afternoon after meeting Murial. And this morning hadn’t been much better. Mama had really started her day off by ignoring her at breakfast. Not just ignoring her, but
hostilely
ignoring her. The only small comfort of the day was that papa had gone to work at four in the morning, so at least she hadn’t had to face him too.

“Gee, Mr. Goldman, I don’t know what to say. I never made a mistake like that…”

“Well, I know what to say. You’re going to make up the difference.”

“I don’t blame you, Mr. Goldman…”

“Okay, we’ll take it out of this week’s paycheck—and don’t let it happen again.”

“I sure won’t, Mr. Goldman.” …

But where papa was concerned, she was not let off so easily. Dinner that night was eaten in silence, but if looks could kill she’d have been dead.

And Lillian didn’t exactly help. She just sat and ate, not even daring to look at anyone.

Finally Jacob broke the silence. “Shlomo wants to buy a house.”

“So? Why don’t they buy one?” Sara said.

“He needs the money for a down payment.”

“Oh, I see, and he wants you to give it to him.”

“Not give, loan.”

“Why doesn’t Nadine go to her father?”

“They don’t have any money, Sara, you know that.”

“So who are you? Mr. Rockefeller? If anyone needs a new house, it’s us. Did you ever consider how I feel living in this mausoleum?”

“This is no mausoleum, it’s a beautiful house—”

“Beautiful? Then why don’t you sell it to Shlomo. For God’s sake, we have our daughters to think of. This neighborhood is so bad, no wonder Dr. Levin didn’t say he’d call Doris.”

Well, they did remember she had a name, although they didn’t seem to notice she was sitting with them in the same room…

“It wasn’t because of the house, Sara, and you know it. I didn’t marry you because you had such a beautiful house.”

“Let’s not get started on that, all right? Look, Jacob, it isn’t even proper for a man in your position to live like this. My God, you’re a well-to-do man.”

“I’m not that well-to-do. Besides, we weren’t talking about us. I asked about loaning the money to Shlomo.”

He was still a frightened man when it came to money…The more he acquired the more he was apprehensive about losing it. Of course he wanted to help his brother, but at the same time…

“What do you think, Sara?”

“Why do you ask me? You’ll do what you want anyway. You care more about Nadine having a baby than you do about your own children. If you were that considerate of your own family and would realize that Doris needs a decent place to bring a fellow to, maybe she’d stand a chance of getting married. Maybe if we’d had a decent home, Rachel wouldn’t have married a
goy
. For God’s sake, Jacob, when we bought this place we were lucky to have a roof over our heads, but things are different now…”

Doris got up and walked out unnoticed. Did her whole life depend on a house? Didn’t they think that maybe someone might like her just because she was Doris? No, she was just a bargaining point for mama to use to her own advantage.

On Thursday night the phone rang and Sara ran to answer it.

“How are you, Mrs. Sanders. This is Henry.”

She stammered, “Wonderful, Henry. How nice of you to call.”

“I should have called sooner to thank you for dinner but I’ve really been busy and haven’t had a moment—”

“I can imagine what a doctor’s life is like…”

The truth was, he had hoped that not calling would give Doris a chance to miss him. “Is Doris in?”

“Well…I’m not sure. She has a date tonight, but maybe she’s still home.”

“Thanks, I’ll wait.”

She ran upstairs and burst into Doris’ room. “The doctor’s on the phone.”

Imagine, mama, he called in spite of the mausoleum…“Tell him I’m at the library.”

“You go downstairs this very minute.”

This was the first time she’d heard a voice directed to her in nearly a week…She got out of bed and went down the stairs, with Sara close behind. When she picked up the receiver, mama’s look said, “If he asks, you say
yes
.”

“Henry?”

“Hi, Doris. I’m glad you’re still home.”

Still home? “Oh, yeah, that was a lucky break.”

“How are you?”

“Fine, Henry, and you?”

“Are you busy Saturday?”

One look at mama and she said, “No, the fellow I had a date with broke his leg.”

“Oh, that’s a shame…Then I can see you?”

Doris could hear mama’s breathing. “Sure, that would be fine, Henry.”

“Where would you like to go? Is the Mark Hopkins all right?”

What about Buckingham Palace? My last date was there. “I love the Mark Hopkins.”

“So do I. Seven-thirty?”

“Swell.” Doris hung up and was about to go upstairs when Sara cornered her. “I want to talk to you, Doris.”

My goodness, mama remembered she had a name. “Yes, mama, what would you like to talk about?” As if she didn’t know.

“Let’s go into the livingroom.”

Wow, this had to be special. The livingroom was reserved for royalty.

“So tell me, what did he say?” Sara asked, abruptly all smiles and solicitude.

“It seems Dr. Levin wants to take me to the Mark Hopkins Saturday night.”

“Oh, Doris, I’m so pleased…You see? There’s a difference between the boys Murial and the others go out with—those law students who spend a whole dollar to take a girl to the Clairmont Hotel for dancing and a pitcher of punch.”