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Authors: Cynthia Freeman

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Portraits (50 page)

BOOK: Portraits
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When he took her to the front door he said, “I can’t wait to see you again. I’d like to tell your folks tomorrow.”

“They’ll approve, I assure you.”

“So will my family. My mother can’t wait for me to bring home a wonderful Jewish girl. Wait till she sees
you
.”

She kissed him so she wouldn’t have to say she loved him. Still, what she felt for Henry Levin was more affection than she’d ever felt for anyone in her life, except for Lillian and that was different…

Doris slept until eleven o’clock on Sunday morning, and by the time she came downstairs Sara was a nervous wreck. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“How did it go last night? Did you do everything I told you?”

“Didn’t miss a thing, mama.”

“Really? So tell me.”

She looked at her mother coolly, then, “I’m engaged.”

“Engaged!”

“I believe that’s the way it works when a fellow asks you to marry him.”

“My God, I can’t believe this. Jacob,” she called out, “come in quick.”

He came into the kitchen, looking concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? For the first time, everything is right. Doris—our Doris—is engaged.”

Jacob was dumbfounded. “I can’t believe it. The doctor asked you to marry him?”

“Yes, papa, the
doctor
. Can you believe it? He thinks I’m beautiful, sweet, intelligent and wonderful. So what if he’s blind?”

“Well,
mazel tov
. You’re a good girl, it pays to listen to a father.”

“How true that is, papa. Without your love and advice I could never have done it.”

They beamed, and Sara stood with tears in her eyes. “Our Cinderella…”

“Cinderella? Oh, mama, she wasn’t really so much—and she couldn’t have been Jewish. What Jewish girl would have lost her glass slipper?”

They all laughed—Doris not quite for the same reasons, but let them be happy, she told herself. It wouldn’t kill her.

“Doris, with your sense of humor you could have been a comedian.”

“I am, mama. Incidentally, Henry’s coming this afternoon to ask for my hand. Please be sure it’s the left one you give him, papa.”

Sara just sat and shook her head. “I can’t believe it, our Doris…Go answer the phone, Doris, that’s probably him.”

The following Saturday night Sara and Jacob took them to the Palace Hotel to celebrate the engagement.

During dinner, Jacob continued to reminisce about the lower East Side of New York. Henry told Jacob how his wonderful Jewish mother had bathed them all in a pickle barrel, how all the kids had slept in the same room and about his father’s unique bookkeeping system when he owned a fish store on Hester Street and had allowed his customers to charge on Thursday nights. Mr. Levin, it seemed, wrote his accounts on the wall, and everybody in the neighborhood knew that Mrs. Rubinowitz owed forty-five cents, that Mrs. Cohen hadn’t paid for five weeks…there were accounts in the dozens. Then the catastrophe happened. One day, when Mr. Levin was at home with a very bad cold, Henry’s mother decided that the store should be painted. And there went Mr. Levin’s bookkeeping system, covered over with white wash. When everyone denied what they owed, Mr. Levin refused to give any more credit, so the ladies took their business to Farber. He trusted them.

Jacob laughed so hard he had tears in his eyes. And thank God, Sara was so engrossed with Henry that she didn’t notice Doris cautiously sneaking tiny bites of strawberry tart…

After dinner Henry asked if his future in-laws would like to see his office, and it was obvious this was the moment they’d both been waiting for.

When Sara walked into his reception room, she was clearly impressed. It was all done in Chinese. Against one wall was a tall black wooden settee with arms carved with a dragon motif. An altar table covered with a satin runner sat against the opposite wall, and was flanked by a pair of teakwood chairs with carved bases that were so beautiful Sara wished she had them. But the
pièce de résistance
was the cream-colored Chinese rug with the deep blue border. Sara didn’t notice that Henry’s consultation room doubled as a treatment room or that there was no office for a nurse. She was simply too taken with the impressive
décor.
“Oh, Henry, really, we’re so proud of you.”

Which made Henry’s evening complete.

Doris asked that no wedding notice be placed in the Sunday society section, but Sara placed it anyway—without telling her.

On Monday morning, Murial came rushing into Goldman’s and in front of everyone announced that Doris was the most disgusting, deceitful human being she’d ever had the displeasure of knowing. Doris knew that Henry hadn’t loved Sylvia, but Murial’s denunciation had really hurt. Murial had been her one and only friend. It was what she had been so afraid of…

As for Henry, he reassured her again, and bestowed on her a three-carat blue-white gem that he bought for seven hundred dollars from Jerry, a friend who was in the wholesale jewelry business.

Not to be outdone, Sara got Jacob to buy her one, just a little larger, almost the size of Rachel’s…

Now the engagement was in full swing. Henry’s mother had the Sanderses to dinner, then the Sanderses had the Levins to dinner. Rachel entertained them but excluded Nadine and Sandy. And Nadine, Sandy, Jean and Neal had a family dinner at a restaurant, excluding Rachel and Jim.

And Sara was commencing to plan in earnest. She selected the china—a service for six since a new bride didn’t have to entertain in large groups. Sterling silver could come later; for now, Oneida would do. Two changes of sheets and pillow slips, a comforter, a set of towels and the minimum amount of kitchenware. The furniture was selected by Sara and Jacob at Redlick’s—more for its price than its beauty. That’s where the best buys were.

It was the wedding itself that was the important thing, and Sara took charge of the wedding plans. The date was the seventh of June. They would be married at Temple Sinai, with Dr. Coffee officiating and the family would come from Cleveland.

Doris was outfitted from Goldman’s bridal salon, with the help of her ten-percent discount. She could hardly believe it when she saw herself in the white satin gown with the little seed pearls around the neck, and the long veil with the Juliet cap covering her hair. My God, this was exactly what she used to talk about to Lillian at night when she dreamed about floating down the aisle. She was beginning to fall in love with love, and Henry couldn’t have been more adoring…

Sara bought a gown of oyster-white taffeta in the newest Paris style. She’d been some bride with the fifteen-dollar dress Jacob had bought her and the reception in Esther’s restaurant…What difference would it make if both she and Doris wore white?

Lillian was ecstatic. For the first time in her life she had a store-bought dress—a long peach organdy with a velvet sash, and her shoes were low-heeled silver slippers.

And Jacob was fitted for a rented tuxedo. The only thing that annoyed him was that he had to buy pearl studs and black patent-leather shoes. Jacob took Henry’s De Soto and traded it in for a brand-new blue Reo. He paid the difference of seven hundred dollars, which was their wedding gift. The flowers were ordered, the photographer hired, the invitations sent and at long last Sara could relax and wait for the glorious event.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

O
NE EVENING DORIS MET
Henry at his office before they were scheduled to go out to dinner. They were waiting in the garage where Henry parked every day when Henry’s sister happened to be passing on her way home from work.

Rosalie was a dear person, Doris thought, and she knew she approved of her baby brother’s fiancée.

While the attendant was bringing up Henry’s car, Rosalie said to Doris, “I don’t think Henry looks well.”

To Doris, Henry had never looked better. “Why, Rosalie?”

“I think his late hours are showing.”

“What hours?” Henry asked.

“I mean that all that commuting back and forth to Oakland is giving you dark circles around your eyes.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Doris said.

“Well, I think you should. Doris, if I make a suggestion, you won’t think I’m interfering?”

“Never. I promise.”

“Well, I think big weddings are stupid, a waste of money. And I can’t see why when two people are in love they should wait. Especially with you living in Oakland and Henry having to commute every night. Why not elope?”

Rosalie meant well, but she was definitely interfering, Doris thought. All her life she’d dreamed of being a bride. That was almost the most important thing about getting married—being queen for a day, having a unique moment of glory…

“You’re an absolute genius, sis. Why didn’t we think of that instead of wasting all this time?” Henry sounded as if he’d just discovered oil in his backyard.

“We’ve only been engaged three weeks, Henry…”

“I know, darling, but just think. By June the seventh, we can have been married more than a month. What do you say?”

She looked from Rosalie’s smiling face to Henry’s pleading one. “Let me have a dime so I can call and see what my mother thinks of this…”

When her mother answered, her knees nearly buckled. “Mama?”

“Yes, Doris.”

Silence…

“Doris, are you there?”

“I think so…Mama, please sit down.”

My God, there’d been an accident, the new car was ruined. Or maybe Henry was calling off the wedding…“Yes, I’m sitting.”

“All right, mama. We happened to run into Rosalie, and she thinks Henry’s health is suffering because he’s commuting—Oh, it’s all so mixed-up…”

“For heaven’s sake, tell me already.”

“Well, she suggested we elope and Henry’s so excited I don’t have the courage to disappoint him…”

Sara was quiet for a moment. The wedding gown and veil—that could be canceled. Her own dress? Well, she’d think about that. Jack’s suit was only rented, Lillian’s dress could be returned, so no problem there. And for what the wedding would cost they could pay for the furniture and have money left over. Jack wouldn’t have to spend the money to bring his whole family from Cleveland. And what was it all for anyway? Only a show. All that money for one evening…“Doris, how much does this mean to Henry?”

What about me, mama…? “Well, he’d like to get married now. He thinks it’s foolish to wait and Rosalie obviously thinks it’s foolish to spend all the money—”

“Let me talk to your father.”

“All right. Should I call back?”

“Yes, in about an hour. I want him to eat and rest…make it an hour and a half.” …

When Jacob heard the news, he hit the ceiling. “Damn it, why does every father but me get a little pleasure from their kids? Gittel’s kids got married at a wedding and Shlomo had a wedding. But Rachel went to a judge, and Doris—I don’t know what kind of kids I have.”

“Calm down, Jacob. It’s not the end of the world. They’re in love, they want to get married. Remember when you said at Coney Island—”

“I know what I said, but that was a different time.”

“Jacob, be reasonable, they want to get married. Is that so terrible?”

“I didn’t say it was terrible. I just wanted the
naches
of walking down the aisle with my daughter.”

“Well, you still have Lillian,” she added quietly. “Look, we have to face it. Doris is getting someone we never in a million years thought she’d marry. In fact, we should go down on our knees and thank God she got such a man. Of all girls, Doris marrying a doctor…You should be happy, Jacob. How would you feel if he backed away and broke the engagement? I don’t think I could stand it. Could you…?”

“But what about all the arrangements? The invitations have been sent and my family are probably out buying clothes right now. What are we going to do about that?”

“I can send out notes saying they’ve eloped. And people can always return clothes…”

“I just hope no one thinks they had to get married. Who runs away?”

“I know how you feel. I’d like to see my child married just as much as you, but we have to learn to accept certain things—”

“All right, all right, fine, so it’s
settled
.” …

When Doris called, Sara said, “It was a great disappointment to papa and me. We always dreamed of seeing you stand under the
chuppah
—but this is America where parents have to learn to understand. Besides, Rosalie is right. It’s difficult for Henry to keep commuting from San Francisco every night, staying up late. Look, he’s a doctor and he needs his rest. Although it’s not our wish, you have our blessings. However, it’s really up to you and Henry to decide.”

You and Henry decide…Some joke. Why didn’t she have enough guts to say, “Look, Henry, all my life I’ve dreamed of walking down an aisle, wearing white satin and a long veil, holding a bouquet of lilies of the valley, having my wedding pictures taken and everyone toasting us with champagne, then changing into my going-away suit and rushing to the car while everyone was showering us with rice. And wearing something borrowed, something blue…”

She walked back to their table and Henry held out the chair as she slid into it. When he reached for her hand across the table he saw the tears in her eyes and knew she must be relieved. “I know you’re happy, darling. Elopements are more exciting and romantic. I know just how you feel…What did your folks say?”

“Well, they were disappointed, naturally.”

“Of course, but this is really more sensible, Doris. And to tell the truth, I’m not really so crazy about big weddings.” He squeezed her hand. “Just think. By tomorrow, we’ll be married. Well, as long as we’re this side of the Bay we’ll go out to my place and I’ll pack a few things, then we’ll go get yours.”

This couldn’t be happening to her. “You mean leave tonight?”

“Of course.”

“Where are we eloping to?”

“Reno.”

Reno? And here she’d been stupid enough to think she’d be married in the rabbi’s temple study, with mama and papa and Henry’s mother there, and
then
they’d elope.

Stupid Doris…

While Henry packed, Doris looked sourly at the virginal Rosalie. Already forty and never been kissed, and she would surely live the rest of her life with her mama and brothers. She didn’t need a husband; she already had four. What a Jewish family—kosher and celibate. At least Henry was breaking the Levin tradition…

BOOK: Portraits
3.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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