Chapter 45

The day had cooled off by the time I reached Ruchel’s, for which I was grateful. So had my self-righteousness, for which I wasn’t. I wanted to stay angry and counted on my cousin to help me do that. “I’ve left home,” I said when she opened her apartment door. She was living on her own now, going to college to become a teacher. Onkel Gershon paid for everything.

I plopped myself down at a table littered with dirty dishes and newspapers. “I can’t marry Bernie just to make Papa happy, but it might be okay if I could go to school too. Mama would be relieved because she wouldn’t have to choose between me and Papa anymore. I wish I knew how Shmuel would feel about my marrying his best friend. Oh, I’m all balled up.” I put my head down on my outstretched arms and wailed.

“You need a drink.” Ruchel winked and got two bottles of Coca-Cola from the electric icebox. I didn’t think they were kosher, but I gulped one down like a dried-out alkie reunited with his hooch. “Your father’s an old-fashioned tyrant.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “But this dustup will blow over. Aunt Rivka’s good at calming Uncle Avram down.”

After what I said about me and Shmuel, and Shmuel and Bernie, I wasn’t so sure. “It could be a couple of days before it’s safe to go back home. Is it okay if I spend the night here?”

“Why go back at all? Move in with me. I’ll show you the latest dances and fill your head with propaganda, while you help me with my science classes.”

“It sounds divine, but ...”

“Don’t worry about the money. My father already pays the rent and my mother brings enough food each week to feed a union hall. You can even invite your friend Leah for dinner.”

Still, I hesitated. Money was a problem, and maybe the solution was as easy as Ruchel said, but something else was eating at me that I couldn’t explain, a vague fear that if I left home without my parents’ blessing, like Shmuel, I’d cease to exist too. My mother might send my uncle after me, but my father would immediately write me off for dead. And then, like my brother, it would turn out I really was dead. Papa wouldn’t even feel a sense of loss like he did with Shmuel. He’d think, “Good bye and good riddance, daughter.” Maybe that’s what he was thinking now.

Well if he didn’t care that I was gone, then I wouldn’t care about returning home. “Deal,” I said. “I’ll get my things tomorrow when Papa’s at work and Mama is out shopping.”

“Why bother? I’ve got plenty of clothes. You won’t need your school books until the fall. Face it, your father is hopeless. It’s time to give up and move on with your plans for a career.”

Part of me—a blood vessel, a muscle— wasn’t yet ready to abandon hope. “Onkel Gershon used to feel the same way as Papa about women getting married, but he changed.”

“Yes,” my cousin said, “but my father never had a son to pin his hopes on.”

***

Ruchel found bed sheets that weren’t too dirty so I could sleep on the couch, but we expected to spend nights on the fire escape until the heat broke. Pretty soon Onkel Gershon and Tante Yetta came over for their Sunday evening visit. My uncle handed over a week’s spending money, while my aunt unpacked enough chicken and brisket to feed an emperor’s army on a fortnight’s march. She grimaced when she saw the Coca-Cola and silently poured it down the drain. Ruchel winked again and wiggled her pinky toward the cabinet under the sink, where she kept a stash.

Despite the heat, my uncle wore a short suit jacket with narrow lapels. I surmised Ruchel had been giving him sartorial advice. He pivoted for her approval, but it was my aunt who wolf whistled. “Show Ruchel the full effect,” Tante Yetta said, handing him his straw boater. “Nu, isn’t he a dapper ducky in his glad rags?” He in turn pecked her on the cheek and she blushed like the young bride I was reluctant to become. I couldn’t imagine my parents flirting in private, let alone in front of me. I felt cosier with this family than with my own.

On their way out, Tante Yetta picked up the sheets, assuming Ruchel had left them there for her to take home and wash. I stopped her, saying that I would be staying the night, maybe more.

“How many more?” she asked.

“A few,” I stammered.

“How many a few?” My aunt’s arms crossed her bosom, awaiting my answer.

“She’s moving in with me,” Ruchel said.

Tante Yetta continued to look at me, not at Ruchel. “This is true?”

I nodded.

“You had a fight with your parents?”

“With Uncle Avram,” Ruchel said.

“Shah, let your cousin speak for herself.” My aunt tapped her foot, which was muted by the thick Oriental carpet she and my uncle had given Ruchel, along with their other cast-offs. I confirmed that I’d taken Papa at his word when he ordered me out of the house. I wouldn’t go back, even if he asked three times for forgiveness, as was customary among observant Jews.

“I’ll let Rivka and Avram know you’re staying here. They’ll be worried.”

“Hah! My father doesn’t care a fig about me.”

“He likes dates better? Or he cares raisins about you?”

“It’s an expression, Tante Yetta. It means my father ...”

“I know what it means. I’m in this country over twenty years, I know American sayings.”

“Like ‘Don’t take any wooden nickels’ and ‘You slay me,’” my cousin teased.

“Like whatever is eating you,” my aunt held my cheeks in her plump hands, “you should know that your father cares a whole bushel of fruit about you.”

“He has a strange way of showing it, or not showing anything at all.” I turned away.

“Men take a long time to heal. Women recover faster. We’re stronger.” My aunt looked at my uncle for confirmation. He looked at the carpet.

“Papa never cared about me even before Shmuel left. He just doesn’t love me.” I plunked down on the couch and balled up the sheets in my lap.

“Nonsense, mamele, of course he does.” Again, Yetta looked toward her husband, who remained silent. She grew impatient. “Gershon, tell your niece that her father loves her.”

“You tell me if you need anything,” he said to me. “Clothes, school books. You want to apply to college next year, I’ll pay your tuition. Come, Yetta. I’m sure the girls, excuse me, the young ladies, have a lot to talk about.”

He offered my aunt his elbow and led her out the door.