Portraits (59 page)

After dinner she said quietly, almost casually, “I’ve sold the house, Jacob. Eleven thousand dollars—”

He stood up abruptly, the chair toppled to its side.

Lillian was afraid he was going to hit mama.

“
What?
You’re crazy…Who the hell do you think you are that you can twist me around your little finger? And how
dare
you sell this property at such a price?”

“Such a price! You paid twenty-five hundred dollars and I sold it for eleven thousand and you’re complaining?”

“Property has gone up. This house is worth at least fifteen—”

“Stop hollering. You got your money’s worth out of it. Besides, if I’d asked, would you have sold? No. Now, Jacob, you listen to me carefully. I’m moving to San Francisco. I will not go on living like the poor relations. Your brother lives better than we do—”

“And since you made all the decisions, what are you going to do? Buy a mansion?”

“No, I’m going into an apartment.”

“An apartment? That’s like living in a jail—”

“Rachel’s apartment is like a jail? A jail like that I should only have.”

“Well, I’m not going to live in an—”

“And I’m not living in a two-story house. I’m through climbing stairs and being a slave to the house…In case you’re having a difficult time making up your mind, let me remind you why Doris and Rachel married who they did. It was because we lived in this lovely anti-Semitic neighborhood, in this
place
…Who could they have brought home? Who did they come in contact with? Father Gallagher? If you think I’m going to allow you to make the same mistake with Lillian, you’re mistaken.”

In spite of himself Jacob had to admit there was some truth in what she was saying. Lillian was sixteen and soon she’d be grown. What chances did she have here? He didn’t want her to wind up the way Rachel and Doris had, one with a
goyisher
old man and the other with a weak failure…Suddenly he began to see other reasons for the move. He had been so hell-bent on providing his family the security that he’d never had that the source of that security—the plant—had been all that mattered. But he was rich now and there was only Lillian left. Didn’t he owe himself something too…?

“All right, sell the damn place, but I want to buy a house!”

“Oh, no. I want a doorman to park my Pierce Arrow, carry up the groceries, and announce the guests. Why not? What’s good enough for my daughter is good enough for me…This time it’s going to be a little my way…and as long as we’re talking, you’re going to give me an allowance every month too.”

He swallowed hard, face reddening. “How much do you—?”

Sara knew she for once had the upper hand about money. Obviously he wouldn’t have agreed to move if he didn’t want to…and he wasn’t going to do it alone…“Five hundred dollars a month.”

Jack was staggered. “Five hundred a—”

“Yes.”

“What in God’s name do you need that much for? I pay all the bills—”

“Is that so? Well, I’ll pay my own personal bills from now on. You’re not going to continue to interrogate me about everything I buy…no more doling out nickels and dimes, not after twenty-three years of marriage, thank you very much.”

Jacob hated the idea of the confinement of an apartment, but Sara plunged ahead and somehow ended up selecting one on the corner opposite Rachel’s building. It was really a coincidence, she told herself, but she wanted to live on Nob Hill and especially at the Park Lane. The building, she was pleased to see, was just as prestigious as the Brocklebank, and the rooms and floor plans were much the same. The apartment could accommodate three live-in maids, but for the time being she settled for one.

She was a changed woman, but the fact that Jacob had given in to her demands was not exactly the victory she thought it was. Once the realization he was a wealthy man had caught up with him, he too wanted to live according to his means.

He walked along the aisles of Gains Walrath’s Fine Furniture Company on Post Street feeling as if he owned the world. Suddenly he found that nothing was quite good enough for him. As in the case of most born agains, he went to the opposite extreme.

The Italian diningroom furniture would take four months to be carved and shipped from Florence, but Jacob had fallen in love with the massive high-backed chairs, the enormous buffet, the exquisitely carved china cabinet. As he sat in the host’s seat and looked down the long refectory table, he felt like a conquering hero returned from the wars, victorious over poverty. Poland seemed very far away, as did Ludlow and Rivington Streets. His
bubbe
and
zayde
’s house was now only a vague childhood memory. Mostly they would be something to boast about when he reminisced about his rise to wealth and how he had overcome all obstacles. Yes, indeed, he was beginning to like the feel of luxury very much, especially when he walked on the thick Persian rugs and looked at the fine painting that would hang on his wall.

Sara stood to one side, amazed at the transformation in him. But what amazed her most was his innate good taste. It was impeccable. So Sara let him select what he wanted. And what he wanted was more than she would have ever dreamed of asking for. He insisted they buy the best and most expensive sterling silver tea set, as well as the candelabra and crystal.

Sara remembered her feelings when Rachel’s wedding boxes began arriving from Gump’s—how she’d admired and frankly envied the contents, never even daring to dream that she would not only be living across the street from her daughter but that her possessions would be comparable.

It had been a long way from that time to this, she thought. Things could change. People could change. Jacob was a living example.

They had been living in the apartment for four months now. Sara spoke to Rachel on occasion, but never did she suggest a visit. She would show Rachel that she too could be independent.

Except Rachel didn’t feel neglected—to the contrary. She had established an extensive social life—which mama just wasn’t a part of—and she could do as she pleased without having to explain or make excuses. Mama’s “punishment,” in fact, had been a blessing, helping as it had to set her free. Thanks to mama, she was able to separate herself from the family without feeling the kind of guilt that, for example, Doris did.

Sara herself was preoccupied with her decorator and her trips to Elizabeth Arden’s Salon, and then there was her regimen of body massage and facial treatments. She managed to phone Doris, of course, but she had become a very busy woman. Lillian was also included in Sara’s concerns. She bought her a beaver coat and carefully selected her clothes and her diet. She was sent to Hamlin’s School for Girls, where she would make the kind of friends Sara felt were essential to her future. Lillian was her last hope, and she was going to make sure that her daughter’s destiny was turned in the right direction. She was going to mold one of her three daughters to suit. Lillian, at least, was going to love her.

Jacob was traveling more and more, but Sara’s life was so full that she found herself not resenting or even missing him.

She attended concerts, theater, opera and the ballet with Lillian. San Francisco, it turned out, was where she belonged. Oh, the wasted years—but she refused to look back. This was a time to savor; she had been redeemed…

With the apartment finally complete, Sara was now ready to invite the family. She sat at her marquetry desk, making out a guest list. It was rather foolish since she really had no outside friends and knew exactly whom she would invite, but the idea of a guest list intrigued her. It included Nadine and her family, although she certainly had no special love for them. Doris, of course. But before she finished the list and made up a menu befitting a state dinner, she wanted to make sure that Rachel could come. Otherwise she’d call it off and set a different date. She was going, by God, to show the Rosses the way the Sanderses lived. Of course, she’d have to be careful not to mention that Nadine and Sandy were coming. Rachel felt awkward with them, she knew, although she’d never understood the reason for it.

Sara now dialed the number and greeted Rachel as if they’d just spoken yesterday, although it was actually some weeks since their last conversation. “Good morning, Rachel. I hope I’m not calling too early?”

“Well…we were out rather late last night so I was sort of indulging myself…but it’s nice hearing from you, mama. How’ve you been?”

“Never better. Thank God the apartment is finally done. Waiting for that damned set drove me mad. But your father had to have that set, and no other.”

“I’m sure it was worth waiting for.”

“Well, yes, it’s nice. As long as your father likes it…Rachel, I’m having just the immediate family to dinner for the first time and I want to know if you’ll be free on October twelfth.”

Rachel hesitated, knowing mama was bursting at the seams to show off the wonders she had achieved. “As a matter of fact, mama, we are free.”

“I’m delighted, make it seven.”

“Thank you for inviting us. Send my best to papa…”

“I will.”

After hanging up, Rachel called Gump’s and sent mama and papa a silver-plated chafing dish for one hundred and fifty dollars. Now they were, in a way, even. She smiled, knowing mama would get the message…

Sara next proceeded to issue the rest of the invitations. When she called Doris she told her that everyone was wearing long dresses.

“Why, mama?”

“Because it’s a very special night—our housewarming. And you know Rachel would never go out to dinner in a short dress—”

“Well, I think that’s lovely, except I’d really like to wear a short one.”

“No, I want it to be formal. And besides, you look best in long.”

What the hell was she going to wear, Doris wondered. Well, it would have to be her heirloom, the one she wore the night of Sylvia Silverman’s surprise party. Which had really turned out to be her own party. That was the night, after all, that Henry had asked her to dance, and in a way she was still recovering from the surprise of it…“Okay, mama, anything you say.”

The night Sara had fantasized so long was about to begin. She dressed in her new flowered chiffon and considered which of her new jewels to wear. Jacob had stumbled into a great deal of jewelry for nineteen hundred dollars, which he had insisted on having remounted. She didn’t quite understand why and it had irked her at the time, but the new settings were every bit as beautiful as the originals. Among the cache were a diamond bracelet, a large ruby and diamond pin, a wide gold bracelet and earrings, a dinner ring, and a five-carat diamond ring for himself.

Jacob was handsomely outfitted in a velvet maroon smoking jacket with satin lapels, patent leather shoes, a white shirt and black trousers. A regular Beau Brummell, yet.

Sara went to Lillian’s room and looked approvingly at the hyacinth-blue taffeta dress. Lillian’s startling black hair and her makeup were done just right.

The doorbell rang at seven. Doris and Henry—who stood speechless. This couldn’t be mama! She hadn’t seen her mother in the four months since the move, but they talked on the phone frequently and not once had mama mentioned she’d become a
blonde
. She looked stunning, no question.

“Come in, don’t stand there like you saw a ghost.” Sara was smiling at Doris, but she was thinking how heavy she still was and wondering why had she worn
that
dress?

When Doris saw papa and Lillian her astonishment was complete. The three of them looked like they’d just stepped out of a Noel Coward play.

“I can’t get over you, mama.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Good, great. You’re gorgeous, but you should have prepared me for the shock. I could drop ten pounds.”

Sara laughed. “Well, thank you. Now let me show you around.”

But the doorbell rang and this time it was Shlomo and all his in-laws.

Sara couldn’t have been more gracious…“Nadine, you look so lovely.”

“So do you, Sara, I can’t get over your hair, you look ten years younger.”

“How nice of you to say so. And I’m so happy you and Charles could come,” Sara said as she turned to Mildred Blum.

“Thank you for asking us,” Mildred said, remembering acutely how catty Sara had always been toward them.

Sara then gave a formal, if cordial welcome to Jean and Neal, followed by, “Now, let’s go into the livingroom and have a
long
chat.”

Jacob was soon serving drinks from the built-in bar, as if he’d done it all his life, which caused more than a few looks to be exchanged among the guests, although neither Sara nor Jacob noticed.

Doris sat observing the performance, as practiced, she thought, as if there had been a dress rehearsal, and feeling as ill at ease as Henry did. If there was a depression, everyone certainly seemed to be keeping it a secret…Nadine was wearing a black velvet dress with pearls left over from better days, and Jean wore a green silk dress that showed off her lovely slender arms. Mildred Blum was poised and distinctive in a gray lace dress.

The only cloud over Sara’s moment of glory was that Rachel still had not arrived. She was beginning to wonder if Rachel was doing this deliberately, but before the thought could develop into anything more explosive Rachel and Jim had arrived in the foyer.

“Well,” Sara said, “since you just live across the street I was beginning to get worried. My goodness, you’re a half-hour late.”

Rachel couldn’t find her voice, Sara’s transformation was so startling. “My God, what did you do to your hair?”

“Obviously, I had it tinted. Do you like it?”

Mama had always loved her blonde hair and now, thanks to Elizabeth Arden, she had what nature had denied her. “Well, it’s certainly becoming, but I also thought you were striking as a brunette.”

“Did you? Well, you’ll get used to it…now come and join the others.”

When Sara opened the double doors to the livingroom, a flush of embarrassment rose to Rachel’s cheeks. Shlomo was standing in front of the fireplace with a drink in his hand. The memory of the night she had all but seduced him…and he had rejected her…still, in spite of herself, was very much with her. He must have had more than one good laugh over that dreadful moment, she thought, and the humiliation was somehow no easier to bear now than it had been originally.