Portraits (60 page)

He kissed Rachel on the cheek and shook hands with Jim.

“I haven’t seen you for such a long time, Rachel, but you’re as beautiful as ever. It seems motherhood has made you even more so.”

Rachel cringed inwardly, wondering if he had ever discussed that episode with Nadine…“And being in love,” she answered, looking at him coolly.

Shlomo understood her feelings and pretended to ignore her abruptness. She needn’t have worried. He saw the episode as a matter of adolescent confusion, and as he looked at her now, standing there with her husband, he was relieved that what must have seemed to her a rejection had apparently left no lasting scar. Had it been anyone other than Rachel he would not have worried, but he knew she was not a person to take things light-heartedly, no matter what her pretense. She was a bit like Jacob in that way. He answered, “You’re quite right, Rachel. Love makes all people beautiful.”

She smiled mechanically, then quickly left him with Jim and sat down next to Doris.

“I’ll never forgive mama for this, Doris,” she said under her breath.

Bewildered, Doris asked, “For what?”

“For pretending this was going to be a simple little family get-together.”

“Oh? Well, you’re dressed perfectly. So she didn’t give the guest list.”

“That’s just the point. She doesn’t feel that these people are family any more than I do. In fact, she probably can’t stand most of the people in this room. She just wants to show off.”

“Oh, Rachel, don’t take it all so seriously. They
are
family…It’s only for one night…after all, it’s mama’s housewarming and she’s worked and waited a long time to have such a home. Why shouldn’t she show off, and who else has she got to show off to?”

“Look, Doris, I’m a little tired of your being so noble, always playing the part of the arbitrator…I’m going to get a drink.”

Doris was more bewildered than ever. She and Rachel had become almost strangers. Rachel seemed so intolerant, self-centered. Maybe her husband over-indulged her, what with her rich gown and jewels…And Doris suddenly felt very much that she didn’t belong here.

Dinner was announced, and the food and service were lavish beyond belief. Doris looked at mama sitting so regally at one end of the table and papa at the other. And Lillian in between, looking like a mannequin. Oh, the memories she had of them all sitting in the kitchen in West Oakland. Those hadn’t always been happy occasions, but at least it hadn’t all been so artificial.

Rachel had been seated across from Shlomo, and her discomfort grew with each course that was served. When dessert finally came, she had stood as much as she felt she could. She nodded her intention to Jim, got up and went to Sara. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I thought this was going to be a very early evening, just for the family, I think you said. Anyway, we’re leaving tomorrow and I still have a million things to do…Don’t bother to get up, please…it’s really been delightful. Thank you for including us.” She turned then and left, Jim following her with a brief nod of thanks.

Sara and Jacob were seething but they carried off the rest of the evening with as much composure as they could manage. Conversation was forced and the party broke up early, but at least the other guests seemed duly impressed.

Sara would deal with Rachel and Jim Ross later. For this evening, she’d sworn to be a lady even if it killed her.

What a night of revelations this had been. For the first time, Doris understood why mama and Rachel had fought so through the years—they were both so alike. She hadn’t really seen the similarities until now. She had always believed Rachel was defending herself against mama, but in truth they were both self-centered people who demanded satisfaction regardless of the effect on others…

Doris went home with a headache for more than one reason. Yesterday Henry had told her they could no longer live in the flat…he just couldn’t afford the seventy dollars a month. She lay in bed that night wondering why Henry hadn’t been able to develop a better practice. She didn’t have Rachel’s or mama’s desire for wealth; she only wanted him to make a living for them. She thought, sadly, that papa really hadn’t been so wrong. Henry was a decent man, but he just seemed to have no…ambition. It was a painful truth, but she had better face it…

When they were married she had no idea how doctors improved their practices, but now she did, and Henry really wasn’t even giving it a chance. His personality seemed better-suited to a nine-to-five job. He loved his
routine
…shower and shave at nine in the morning, have a leisurely breakfast of corn flakes and scrambled eggs, take the baby out in the go-cart…He was not at the hospital with his peers, who at seven
A.M.
were conducting a clinic. He did not go to conventions to improve his skills and keep up with the latest methods, and isolated as he was, he received few referrals from other doctors. The practice of medicine had changed from the good old family doctor who treated everything from tonsillitis to phlebitis. Specialization was demanded and that required a five-year residency plus taking boards. But Henry had been so eager to hang his shingle that he had never thought about his future, and the result was his practice was stagnant. His office hours were from eleven in the morning to twelve-thirty. Then lunch, followed by a leisurely walk, and the office again from two to four-thirty. In between the few patients he saw, he would peruse his medical journals, some of them not very up-to-date.

Well, she would just have to accept the fact that Henry was Henry and would not change. She had to fight down her annoyance, and fear, and come back to the sustaining consolation…Henry was kind. He was a loving husband and he adored her and Michele with a devotion that she could hardly take for granted—not after the loveless childhood she had had. All reasons enough for her never to let him know about her unhappiness. She never wanted to make him feel less than a man; it would only have resulted in breaking his spirit, and who knew better than she what a broken spirit felt like…?

When they moved from the flat to the one-bedroom apartment, Michele was given the bedroom and they slept in the hideaway wall-bed. The only time Doris gave in to her tears was their first morning in the new apartment, but she was careful to save them until Henry had left for the office. She owed him that much…and much more…

T
HE NEXT YEAR MOVED
slowly for Doris. There was little time to acquire friends, or even the means to do so, but as her inevitable resentment grew, she still remained silent. It seemed, God help her, that her life was running parallel to her mother’s early married life. The biggest difference was that she never allowed herself to complain and mama had never stopped. But like mama she desperately wanted at least a small home and as the years went on enough to educate their child…

Almost a year after the housewarming party at her parents, her prospects didn’t seem any brighter and she knew things would only get more difficult as Michele grew up. Out of desperation she finally went to her parents.

She sat nervously in their livingroom and finally she couldn’t hold it back any longer. “Papa, I’m desperate. I have to get out of that apartment. It’s choking me—”

“If you weren’t married to such a lazy s.o.b. you wouldn’t be so desperate.”

“Please, papa, I beg you. Don’t make things worse by running Henry down. He’s my husband and I live with him. All I ask of you now is, will you help me?”

Jacob looked at Sarah…She nodded.

“All right, Doris, I’ll give you the money to move, and then what? How will your husband be able to pay the rent?”

“Things are improving some…his practice is getting a little better. He’ll take the streetcar so we can save twenty-five dollars a month on garage fees. I just know somehow we’ll make it…”

“If you can’t manage now, how will you manage in a more expensive place?”

“We will, somehow…I’ll be more careful, but I need help to get settled…”

Jacob hesitated, then nodded. “So find a place and I’ll pay the first month’s rent—”

“But we need money for the movers and we don’t have any diningroom furniture—”

“How much will it all cost?”

“I don’t know. I found a flat on Beach Street for sixty-five dollars a month. The movers will cost about forty—”

“And the furniture?”

“I found a set at Redlick’s for two hundred—”

“So you need about four hundred and fifty dollars, right?”

“Yes,” Doris whispered.

“Fine, so I’ll give you money. But listen to me, Doris, I am not going to continue to make things so all-fired easy for your husband, so he begins to expect his father-in-law to support him…That’s really why he doesn’t try, that’s why he hasn’t taken out any life insurance. He thinks one day his wife is going to be an heiress—”

“Oh, please, papa. Can’t you remember how it felt to be poor? We don’t want you to support us, just to help now when we need it so badly…”

“I told you I would, didn’t I? But I want you to know I never had any help. I didn’t have a rich father to go to. I got where I am…”

But you also wanted to get rid of me so badly that you practically threw me at Henry, she thought. To have to ask, and take, from them was choking her.

Jacob wrote out the check and handed it to her. She looked from her mother to her father, unable for the moment to show the gratitude that she knew was expected of her for what to them was a pittance.

She blinked back the tears. “I don’t know how I can thank you for all this—”

“Don’t be silly, Doris.” Sara spoke for the first time. “We’d do a lot more for you, believe me, if Henry showed just a little initiative. But as papa said, we don’t feel his attitude toward you is right. You’re his responsibility…”

When she gave Henry the check, she prayed she could forget what her parents had said about him. Her prayers were not answered. Hard as she tried to shut it out, the echo of papa’s words rang in her ears. She had no illusions about Henry, and in a way she did feel trapped, but complaining would only add to Henry’s sense of his own inadequacy in the rat race. The look on his face when she handed him the check told her how badly he already felt, and she had no desire to add to his pain.

She was not, as Rachel had said, being noble. At least she hoped she wasn’t. She had no desire to play the long-suffering wife. But she also hated fights…Thank God, they never fought…she’d had enough and seen enough at home to last a lifetime.

And besides, as mama would say, she’d made her bed, she’d lie in it. Never mind that she’d had more than a gentle push in getting there…

It was four o’clock in the afternoon when Doris walked into Foster’s Cafeteria on Powell Street. Holding Michele’s hand, she picked up a tray and slid it along the metal counter. On the other side of the glass partition she saw the steam table—chicken and gravy, spaghetti, salads…But today she wasn’t hungry. She looked down and smiled at her three-year-old daughter. If there was a true joy in her life, Michele was it.

“Would you like some Jell-O, sweetheart?”

“Could I have the red?”

“Of course, darling. Let’s sit over near the window where you can see the cable cars.”

Doris watched as Michele ate, but her thoughts wandered back to earlier in the day…“You’re pregnant, Doris,” Gary had said.

She had missed her period this month and although she’d hoped against hope, she wasn’t really surprised. Upset, yes…Not because she wouldn’t have loved another child, but it was difficult enough trying to raise Michele. She was rapidly outgrowing her clothes and the expenses were mounting. What was Henry going to say? She felt, ironically, empty inside. But she wasn’t empty and that tiny fetus deserved more consideration. It hadn’t asked to be conceived.

She had been grateful to Henry for having talked her into getting pregnant so soon after they’d married. Funny, how reluctant she had been at the time. Now, as she looked across at the child three years later, the miracle of it overwhelmed her and she almost felt guilty for having been saddened by today’s revelation. Besides, she told herself, it was wrong to raise an only child. They were struggling now, so another mouth to feed wouldn’t be all that bad…

After Michele finished, Doris asked if she would like to go and see daddy.

“Could we, mama?”

Michele loved riding the elevator up to her father’s office. It was an old open-grilled cage, vintage 1910, installed the same year the Flood Building had been erected. She watched as the iron grill slid back.

They walked down the marble-floored hall until they came to the door of Dr. Henry Levin and rang the buzzer. Soon Henry was opening the door.

“Doris, I’m so glad you came down. And look at my beautiful little sweetheart,” he said, picking Michele up and kissing her.

“Can I be a nurse?”

Henry laughed. “Okay, I’ll make you a cap.” He took a paper towel out of the dispenser and folded it, then slipped it on her head. “There you are, Nurse Michele.”

“Daddy, can I have the squeezer, the one you use to clean out my ears?”

He laughed as he lifted her onto the chair near the corner sink. Michele was quickly engrossed in squeezing the rubber bulb and watching the water rise in the glass cylinder of the syringe.

Doris sat looking out to the courtyard, her mind a million miles away, and when Henry kissed her she was startled.

“How’d you like to stay downtown for a bite to eat?”

“I’d like that, Henry.”

She looked strange—tired, down…“Did you have a fight with your beloved mother today?”

“No, why?”

“You seem so quiet. Is anything wrong?”

“Well, not exactly wrong, Henry…I went to see Gary this afternoon.”

He frowned. “Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m feeling fine, just slightly pregnant…”

“How can you be pregnant?”

“Because diaphragms are only ninety-nine percent safe, as you know.”

The next moments were strained. As she looked across the desk at him she suddenly felt that she had placed him in a very difficult position. But she hadn’t done this as a conspiracy. Things were as rough for her as for him. For God’s sake, it just happened. Still, seeing his worried face softened her anger. “I’m sorry Henry, I really am.”