Portraits (61 page)

He took a deep breath and smiled. “Why should you be sorry, darling? It’s just one of those things…Did Gary say how far along you are?”

“About six weeks—”

“Do you know something, Doris? I’m really happy—”

“Are you, Henry? Honestly?”

He got up and took her in his arms. “Yes, sweetheart, I am—”

She knew he wasn’t, and the clearness of his attempt to cheer her touched her so that she clung to him gratefully. “Thank you, darling. You’re really so understanding—”

“Understanding? Doris, I love you. We should be happy about this…”

“I feel better now. But please don’t ever tell anyone that this was an accident. I wouldn’t want our child to ever feel it was an accident and unwanted.”

As she knew she had been…

The next morning Doris called her mother. “Good morning, mama, how are you?”

“Fine, Doris, and you?”

It’s not how I am, but what. “Could I come over and see you?”

“When?”

“Now. That is, this morning—”

“All right…Are you bringing Michele?”

No, I’m leaving her with the governess…“Of course.”

Sara was always so apprehensive when Michele visited. She touched everything, opened doors, closets, drawers, almost broke a piece of Dresden last week.

Doris’ pulse seemed to beat a little too rapidly as she stood ringing her mother’s bell.

“Michele, don’t touch any of sissy’s things. Okay?”

The little girl remembered being reprimanded. “I won’t mommy.”

Doris smiled down at her. “I know, you’re a good girl.”

The door was opened by Mary. “How are you, Mrs. Levin?” she asked in her soft Southern accent. “And how’s my precious little sugar plum?” she said to Michele, who was clinging to her mother. “Here, let me unbutton your coat, honey…There we are. Your mother is in her bedroom, Mrs. Levin.”

Doris found Sara sitting at her dressing table. “I’m glad to see you, mama.”

“Me too, Doris.” Sara kissed Michele and sent her off to the kitchen to get a glass of milk and a cookie.

“Could I have it in here, sissy?”

“No, dear. Go in with Mary like a good girl,” Sara answered quickly.

“I am a good girl, mommy said so—”

Doris told her, “Of course you are, darling, but go and have something with Mary.”

“Couldn’t I bring it back, mommy?”

“No, honey.”…We mustn’t eat in sissy’s boudoir, no crumbs on the carpet, God forbid…

When Sara saw Michele leave she visibly relaxed.

“Don’t let me keep you from what you’re doing, mama.”

Sara went back to her makeup.

Why did she feel so damned uncomfortable, so unsure of herself sitting in her own mother’s house? “I have some wonderful news for you, mama.” Doris swallowed hard.

“Really? That would be nice for a change—”

“I’m pregnant.”

Silence. Sara observed Doris’s reflection in the mirror. “
How
could you allow yourself to get pregnant? Don’t you take precautions?”

“Of course I do…”

“Well then?”

“I wanted to have another baby…”

Sara shook her head. “Doris, I don’t understand you at all. How could you think of having another child in your financial position?”

“Because I decided it was time.”

“Why, are you so old? You’re only twenty-two.”

“Yes, but Michele is three and I didn’t want to wait any longer.” She listened to her own lie, and felt it was in a good cause. She was not going to admit the accident to mama, risk having the child know from her at some point and suffer for the “sin” of being unwanted as she had, even if mama didn’t realize it…“I think it’s important for children to be close in age…”

Close in age
, Sara thought. Oh, that foolish girl…Rachel, for all her snootiness, was the smart one…she’d had her child, a son yet, and now she and her husband were off in the Bahamas sipping rum and Coca Cola…My God, Sara thought, if there had been precautions when she was first married…Well, she couldn’t put her head on Doris’ shoulders. If Doris wanted to struggle needlessly all the rest of her life, well, that was her decision…“Well,
mazel tov
. How far along are you?”

“About six weeks. Henry is so thrilled and Michele keeps asking if she’s going to have a little sister or brother—”

“That’s wonderful,” Sara said, her tone belying her words.

Michele came back into the bedroom and climbed on to the chaise longue.

“Doris, please take her off the furniture…”

Doris felt the old nervous feeling with mama…Damn it, why did it still seem to matter to her so much if mama approved, why did it hurt so badly when she didn’t…

“Doris, I asked you to take her off the furniture.”

“Come sit on my lap, sweetheart,” Doris said, lifting Michele down.

But Michele didn’t want to sit on Doris’ lap. “Can I play the piano, mommy?”

“Mama?”

Sara nodded.

Doris took her by the hand and they went to the livingroom, where she sat Michele down on the piano bench. “Just play softly, honey.”

Michele was already engrossed in the black and white keys as Doris went back to her mother’s room.

“How’s papa?” That was usually a good diversion.

“Fine, works terribly hard…Not a lazy bone in his body, even at his age. That’s why he’s such a success.”

No question who
that
was about…They were almost like strangers, Doris thought. What did they talk about now? Ah, Lillian…“Imagine, Lillian graduating this year…”

“Yes, it’s hard to believe, but children grow up and parents are left alone.”

Michele’s discords on the piano were giving Sara a terrible headache. “Doris, you’ll have to forgive me, but I must get dressed. Please take Michele home, she’s getting a little restless.”

“All right. Well, it’s been nice seeing you, mama. Have a lovely afternoon—”

Sara got up and looked at Doris. “I’m happy for you, Doris…if this is what you want. I just hope for everybody’s sake that Henry makes a better living—”

“I’m sure he will…but I’d be very happy if you meant it.”

“Meant what, Doris? About Henry?”

“No. I wish you were happy about me having a baby. Children can be a blessing to…”

And a heartache and a headache, and can also make you feel guilty as hell…

Sara took out a five-dollar bill from her wallet and gave it to Doris. “Here, dear, take Michele to lunch. It’ll be nice for you…And God bless you, Doris. I’d help you more if I could, but you know how little I get. Papa isn’t the most generous man. I still have to fight for everything. Life isn’t ever all roses.”

Doris almost smiled. Mama really believed it. She had said it for so long now that in her mind it was the truth…

“I know, mama dear. I know.”

S
ARA WAS PREPARING FOR
Lillian’s graduation as though she were making her debut into society. She did ask Lillian what she wanted, but she called Doris a dozen times a day to consult with her.
Consult
was hardly the right word; she was calling to tell Doris about her fabulous ideas. She was going to make this the extravaganza of the year.

Doris listened with one ear while her thoughts strayed back to her own graduation. She remembered coming out of her bedroom on prom night and going to the kitchen to gorge on Oreo cookies and a large glass of milk…

“We’ve hired an orchestra,” Sara was saying, “and I want you to come with me to pick out the flower arrangements.”

“I’d love to, mama, but in all honesty, don’t you think you’re going a little overboard? It’s only a graduation party—”

“Do you resent Lillian, Doris? I seem to get the impression…Remember, I couldn’t give you a party like that. I wasn’t in that position at the time.”

“I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant—”

“Then what did you mean?”

“That I thought it might be nice to have a party at home instead of a formal dinner dance at the Palace Hotel. Unless times have changed a lot, it seems rather…adult.”

“You forget, Doris, Lillian is going on nineteen.”

“No, I remember. All right, mama, I’ll go with you.”

“Could you get a sitter for Michele?”

“I don’t have the money. And besides, she’s awfully good—”

“I’ll give it to you. Please get a sitter.”

Lillian was crying when she called Doris. “I’ve got to see you—”

“Sure, honey, come on over…”

Lillian started talking as soon as she walked in the door. “Oh, Doris, I don’t know what I’d do without you. Mama’s gone absolutely off her rocker. Do you know about the party?”

“Do I! If I had what this shindig is costing I’d be independently wealthy.”

“But that’s not all…she invited girls I hardly know. Doris, it’s plain hell, I can’t stand it—”

“I know, honey…”

“She’s so possessive and she’s completely taken over my life. It’s as though I were some kind of a puppet. She never asks my opinion. She just goes merrily on her way. I don’t understand it—”

“I do, darling. She’s living her own long lost youth through you.” And God help you…

“But it’s my life. Why doesn’t she make friends of her own, get out and make a life like other women do?”

“Because it’s easier for her this way. Besides, who could she be friends with? She can’t even stand her own daughters, except you.”

“How lucky can I get? And papa’s just as bad. He interrogates me about every guy I have a date with, but all he seems interested in is who the boy’s father is. I know they want the best for me, but they never let me go out with anybody
I
like.”

“Don’t let them do that to you.” Doris shook her head…“God, what a family. Rachel’s disappeared and mama punishes me for reasons I don’t even understand—maybe because I was unwanted, as if it were my fault…”

Lillian looked shocked. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean one day she let it slip in a fit of anger that she hadn’t wanted me, that I was a mistake…Isn’t it great to know you weren’t wanted?”

“God, what a thing to tell someone—”

“Well, mama would never get the prize for diplomacy. And papa never forgave any of us for not being boys. How many times has he said, ‘You should have been a boy’?”

“She’s got a new wrinkle now. You know how religious mama is? Well, she just joined Temple Emanuel and guess why?”

“’Cause she just discovered God?”

Lillian laughed. “So that I can attend every crummy social function and meet a nice rich Jewish boy. And she has a new obsession—Steward Gold. He’s going to be my escort to the party. I don’t like him, but mama and papa do.”

“Well, honey, you’re their last chance—”

“Yes, but the point is I’d like to have a chance to make up my own mind. Is that asking too much?”

“Let me give you a little advice, darling. If you
don’t
make up your own mind, you’ll wind up marrying someone they choose and you’ll have the rest of your life to deal with that…
your
life, not theirs…”

When Jacob received the bills for Lillian’s party Sara and he had a true battle royal.

“You’ve gone crazy, absolutely crazy. How the hell do you think I earn my money? I know what’s going on in that mind of yours.”

“What?”

“You’re trying to outdo Rachel, but this is one bill you’re going to pay. I’m not giving you a dime. I’m not working this hard just so you can play your games.”

“What do you mean you’re not giving? Half of what you have is mine and don’t forget it. Besides, what do you give me? Affection, companionship? What do I have from you? Tell me…”

“You have this place, which is all you’ve ever wanted. But you brought up a good point. What have
you
given me? Since we’ve been married have I had a moment’s peace? You’re not a wife to me anymore, Sara, and no matter what I gave you it wouldn’t be enough…I’m the money machine—”

“You’re a machine, period.”

“And you? The whole world revolves around you. This apartment isn’t a home, it’s somewhere I sleep—and alone at that—”

“You don’t need me, Jacob…You’re in love with your plant, your money. You have a mistress, Jacob.”

Tonight’s argument was more upsetting than most to Jacob. Although fights had become a way of life, this was the first time he had to face it that there were feelings he could no longer push aside. Look at your life, Jacob…For years his only concern had been getting ahead, becoming rich, but what had started out of concern for his family had become an obsession, a substitute for the love and feeling of belonging he had searched for all his life. Sara, of course, figured largely in his immersion in his work.

After she’d had the abortion she had become obsessed with not getting pregnant again, and the result was complete abstinence. The abortion itself was a blow to him, but he had still needed her. In fact, he had needed her more than ever, but he was compelled to face the realization that she was a woman who thought almost exclusively of herself. She had pushed him out of her life, and Jacob was not a man to beg or plead. But his resentment was too great to resist punishing her when he had a chance, and that had been one reason he had fought her so hard about money. In a sense, it was a sexual outlet for him. For a long time he had never considered sleeping with another woman. He may have grown away from Judaism, but he still believed it was a sin to commit adultery.

He had married too young. What boy of eighteen considered anything more than having met a pretty girl who brought out feelings of burning desire? It had seemed only fitting to marry. He certainly hadn’t considered that she would eventually become a manipulative and, in the vernacular of the times, a neurotic woman. He laughed at how some thought she’d manipulated him into selling the house and moving. Nobody forced him to do anything he didn’t want to do.

For a time the change had sustained him, but gradually he had realized that the only thing he had changed was his address. His sexual desire and loneliness had only been temporarily put to rest. He could have gone to a brothel, but the memory of that long ago scene, when he had awakened in a dirty room to find he had not only slept with a prostitute but had almost killed her, had left an impression. In fact, he still woke up from time to time with the nightmare fresh in his mind. God, how many times had he been invited to join the boys…But a brothel? Never.