Portraits (73 page)

Two days later Lillian received a registered letter. She knew what was in it without opening it, but when she took the check out and looked at it she couldn’t help feeling that it should really have been made out to Jerry…

The next week she found a charming one-story ranch house in a good section of Menlo Park. It was in some disrepair, but Lillian saw great possibilities in it, and the price of eighteen thousand dollars attracted her even more. She showed it to Dan, who approved, and they promptly bought it.

“Lillian, I want this to be in your name.”

“Oh, no. We’re not starting out that way. What I’ve got is yours, and vice versa.”

“Well, I’m afraid vice versa ain’t going to buy you much more than a bus ticket.”

“We’re not going to have to worry about bus tickets. Tomorrow we’re going to sign the lease on the store on University Avenue.”

He pulled her to him and held her tightly. “How the hell did I ever get so lucky?”

“Well, you said you did a mean tango. And damn it, Dan, we’re going to tango on our own.”

“You mean on
your
own.”

“Dan Fuller, let’s get this out of the way once and for all. There isn’t going to be one towel that says
his
and one that says
hers
. They’re going to say
ours
.”

He looked at her once and shook his head. “I still say I don’t know how I lucked out.”

“Tell me that twenty-five years from now.”

“I intend to.”

The next months were filled with scarcely any leisure moments for either of them. Between the house and the store, Lillian was finding out how to use a hammer and a saw, how to wallpaper, install linoleum and lay ceramic tile. Their first priority was getting the store ready so they could open.

Dan was extraordinarily artistic, and very handy with carpentry work. They remodeled and decorated the store at a minimum expense, and the result was far above their expectations.

Having been connected in one way or another with the dress business for twelve years, Dan’s expertise amazed Lillian. He chose his stock judiciously, and the use of mirrors and lighting not only made the store appear larger but the stock more plentiful.

Announcements were sent to all the customers from Carolyn’s—which didn’t exactly endear Dan Fuller to Carolyn Hodge. Still she smiled graciously when she attended the opening, although it was already apparent to her that he was going to present some tough competition.

Once the store was in operation Lillian turned her attention to finishing and restoring the house. Within two months her furniture was being arranged and all was ready for the girls to move in.

Lillian went up to the house to collect the children in her secondhand Oldsmobile. As usual, she found Jacob and Sara sitting in the library.

“Mama, papa, in spite of all that’s happened, I want you to know that you’re both welcome in our home.”

Jacob didn’t answer, Sara couldn’t. When Sara saw the two little girls standing before her in their coats, she…inevitably…began to cry.

Cindy said, “Don’t cry, sissy, we don’t live very far from here. You’re going to be seeing us all the time—”

“I know, I know. You’ll call…you won’t forget.” Oh God, she thought, what was she going to do tomorrow? She could already hear the empty echo of that enormous house…

The children’s adjustment to Dan was everything Lillian had hoped for. They loved Jerry, but their affection for Dan was undeniable—as was his for them. On weekends they all worked in the garden. Dan bought three rose bushes, dug the holes for them and made a great ceremony out of planting them. Each had its own name plate. He said they were for his three American beauties.

J
ACOB WAS READING IN
the library when the phone rang.

“Jacob?” The tremulous voice on the other end was familiar, but he was startled by the sound of it. “Gittel?”

There was a long pause, then: “Yes, Jacob.”

His hand shook. Why was Gittel calling, especially at this time of night? It would be eleven o’clock in Cleveland. “How are you, Gittel?”

“Oh Jacob…Jacob, how can I tell you this?”

“Tell me what?” His face tightened.

“It’s Shlomo…”

Jacob shut his eyes, began to shake. “What about Shlomo?”

“Oh God, Jacob, Shlomo is dying.”

Silence, except for Gittel’s sobbing. Finally Jacob found his voice. “Why…what…?”

She could hardly get the words out. “He has cancer, Jacob…I don’t know what happened between you, but please, whatever it was you should make it up.”

Tears started to his eyes. I knew one day you would come…mama always said you’d come…He could see Shlomo’s large soulful eyes as he’d said that…“Gittel?”

“Yes, Jacob…”

“I’ll send money for you and mama to go and I’ll meet you in Los Angeles.”

“We’re already here.”

He was stunned. “How long have you been there?”

“For three days. We left as soon as Nadine called.”

“And you didn’t try to contact me?”

“They…I mean Shlomo’s sons made me promise I wouldn’t, but I know God will forgive me for not keeping my word. They didn’t understand as I do. Yes, Jacob, you should come.”

“I’ll leave right away…What hospital?”

“Cedars of Lebanon.”

“All right, Gittel, I’ll be there as soon as I can get a plane.”

“God bless you, Jacob.”

No, God damn me, Jacob thought as he hung up. He went to Sara’s room. “I just spoke to Gittel.” His voice broke. “Shlomo is very sick and I’m going to Los Angeles. I know you haven’t been feeling too well yourself, but I think it’s only right that you should go too.”

“I would, Jacob, but you must believe me, I don’t think I feel strong enough to make it. I’m sorry about Shlomo but I feel too sick to even get out of bed.” She
was
ill, of that he had no doubt. He would rather not go alone but he had no choice. “All right, Sara, I’m leaving tonight…I don’t know how long I’ll be there but I’ll call.” …

Jacob was shocked when he saw Gittel. Her once beautiful, soft face was creased and pale, but worst of all was the sight of his mother. Esther looked shrunken. She looked at him vaguely. “Jacob?”

“Yes, mama…” He held her frail body close to him as a flood of memories came back…You’re a fine man, Jacob…Gittel’s first child had been born that night. Here’s your father’s
tallis
. Wear it with the dignity he did…You hate me, say it…

He didn’t hate her tonight. He needed her more than anyone in the world at this moment. From her he found the strength to go to Shlomo’s room.

When he opened the door a handsome young man got up from the chair and approached him. With an abrupt gesture he summoned Jacob out of the room and in the hall said without preamble, “I’m sorry Aunt Gittel asked you to come. My father’s wish is for you not to be permitted to see him or to attend his funeral.”

Jacob stood remembering how he had hit Shlomo, then had held him close in his arms like a child. Oh please, God…don’t let Shlomo die…“I don’t care,” he said to Shlomo’s son, “I don’t care what happened between your father and me. I’m going to see my brother.”

“No, you are not. You almost ruined his life once, but I won’t allow you to make his death any harder than it is.” Without another word he turned and went back to his father’s room, closing the door softly behind him. Jacob sat down on the wooden bench, alone.

Shlomo died near dawn on Friday, but he did not die alone. His wife and two sons were with him, and the last words he uttered were to Nadine…“You’ve been my resting place, my love…”

According to tradition the funeral had to be held on Friday before sundown.

Jacob waited alone in his hotel room during the funeral, but he could see it all. A still body lay on a slab, waxen and yellow, and coins covered his eyes…
Yis-ga-dal, v’yis-ka-dash
…Sleep well, Shlomo. No matter what I did, or you said…I loved you. I’d give everything I have to make it up to you. Too long…too late…

After the funeral Gittel and Esther stayed with Nadine and her family for a brief time, but the house was full of friends who had come to pay their condolences and Esther was tiring. Gittel took Nadine aside. “Forgive us for leaving so soon, but mama must go to the hotel and lie down. And Nadine, may God be good to you and see you through this. I must take mama home tomorrow…and there’s poor Hershel. He needs me so since he had the stroke.”

“Yes, Gittel, darling…you have your burdens to bear. Shlomo loved you very much.”

When they found Jacob sitting in his room, he hadn’t shaved and what he was feeling was clearly written in his eyes. The scars of too much to remember…

“Jacob,” Gittel said, “I have to take mama home. Do you think it would be possible for you to get us a flight tonight?”

“I’ll go with you. I’ll get the tickets.” He called home. “Shlomo’s gone, Sara.” He could hardly go on. “I thought I would come home, but I feel I should take Gittel and mama to Cleveland, not let them go alone…My mother hasn’t even spoken since…”

“I’m sorry, Jacob, of course.”

“You understand, Sara.”

“Yes. You do what you feel is right.”

“Are you feeling better?”

“I’ll survive, Jacob.” I’ve managed for a long time, she thought. When they hung up Sara thought about her survival. It was a survival without much love…yet she could not forget Shlomo as he was when she’d first come to live with Esther. What would have happened if Esther had refused to take her in? What would her life have turned out to be? What foolish questions…The past was history. Did she have a future…?

Jacob’s mother was living in the Hebrew Home for the Aged. Was this what happened in the end? He had condemned Esther for what she had once done to him, what kind of a son had he been? He hadn’t seen her in years, hadn’t even bothered to inquire how she was living, had barely provided for her. He had known she was in an old people’s home, but this, he couldn’t have imagined. Doddering old men and women sat aimlessly in the hall, staring out into space, forgotten…It was as though they were nonexistent, as though they were simply waiting, hoping for death to rescue them.

Gittel had gone home to Hershel and Jacob sat now by his mother’s bed, watching as she lay motionless. The effort of talking was too difficult for her. He stayed this way by her side for two days, and had a cot brought into the room although he hardly slept. Listening to his mother’s shallow breathing, he could almost hear her thoughts…no mother should outlive her child…

The next morning, Ester Dubin Sandsonitsky was gone. It was as though she had willed herself into death. The only words spoken before the end were, “I’ll be with you, my Shlomo…my baby…”

Jacob threw himself across her, holding her close. Even at the end, mama, you died for Shlomo. Oh God, and even at the end I was jealous…

The next day, as he saw his mother being put into the ground, the memory of his father’s funeral came back to him. God, there was so much to remember. He looked at Gittel’s children, three tall and handsome sons and a lovely daughter. In spite of Gittel’s financial problems, somehow she’d managed to educate her children. Two were pharmacists, one a lawyer, and Bertha, Gittel’s daughter, had become a schoolteacher. Rachel’s words rang loudly in Jacob’s ears…“I want to go to college, papa”…But he’d turned away her request. He hadn’t really been the good father he’d thought he was. No…he hadn’t helped Doris when she needed him. At the time he had justified it to himself, but the truth was he’d denied himself the joy of giving, and he’d done to her what he’d blamed his mother for doing…yes, he had abandoned her, as surely as he’d thought Esther had abandoned him. And Lillian? He had deliberately broken up her first marriage because Jerry had become a constant reminder to Jacob of his own guilt…and so Jerry had to be eliminated…But it had done no good. The nightmares persisted. Shlomo’s words would not go away. When Jacob had called him after he’d stormed out of his office, he’d said, “You’re not my brother. You’re dead as far as I’m concerned…” As the last shovel of dirt was thrown over Esther’s gravesite, Jacob wept. He had too much to be forgiven for…

After the funeral was over they went back to Gittel’s house, and when he saw Hershel, a sick, crippled old man, all the hostility toward him was gone as well…replaced by the chilling knowledge that he could never undo, or make up for, the past.

When Jacob returned home he was not alone in his bereavement. After the little girls had moved, Sara became very ill. For two weeks, she had hardly been able to eat, and had excruciating pains in her abdomen. The night Jacob came home, she rang the intercom to his room at midnight. Barely able to speak, she said, “Jacob, please come.”

Within moments he was standing before her bed. “What’s wrong—?”

“I don’t know, Jacob, I just have these terrible pains in my stomach.”

“I think we’d better call the doctor.”

He sat with her while they waited for Dr. Forster to arrive. When Jacob met the doctor at the front door he had no need to tell him where Sara’s room was. In the last two weeks he’d been there nearly every day.

After examining her, Dr. Forster walked out into the hall, where Jacob was waiting. “Mr. Sanders, I think we’re going to have to take your wife to the hospital. For surgery…”

Genuinely shaken, Jacob asked, “What is it, what’s wrong—?”

“Mrs. Sanders has a gastro-intestinal problem, and I’m afraid it may be quite serious. She’s in a very weakened condition…she hasn’t eaten in weeks, which I warned her about. But I’m going to be perfectly frank with you, I think there’s a good deal more to this. For some reason, your wife seems to have given up…Well, we’ll talk about that later. Let me call the hospital.”

When the ambulance arrived and Sara was taken out, Jacob was trembling inside, and as he got dressed he knew he couldn’t face this alone.

He called Lillian.

It was two o’clock in the morning. Lillian answered groggily.

“Lillian…” His voice broke.

She sat up in bed immediately. “What’s wrong, papa?”

There was no anger in his voice tonight. “Mama’s just been taken to the hospital at Stanford.”

Her heart was pounding. “What do you mean, papa, what happened?”