Chapter 26
Explanations

Mrs. Albertini didn’t say anything. And I still didn’t turn to face her. Not until she put her hand on top of mine. It felt like boney sandpaper, which totally freaked me out. I yanked my arm away.

“I’m sorry,” she said. She kept her arm stretched across the table—I guess in case I decided I wanted to hold her hand. I didn’t. I wanted her to get up and make tea or cook purple food or eat cake or anything else. “I thought I was doing the right thing,” she continued.

“Did you make them give my dad a promotion?” I asked. It had been in the back of my mind ever since last night.

She looked as if she’d been waiting for me to ask this question for a million years. “He’s a hard worker, your father,” she said. “According to my Gino, he was one of the best. He deserved that promotion and should’ve gotten it a long time ago.”

“But he didn’t. Did you make them give it to him?” I asked again. “You still know people down there. You bring them food and stuff. They’re your friends, right?” I tried not to be angry, but I could feel my voice getting louder with every word.

Mrs. Albertini’s eyes met mine. The wrinkles around her mouth weren’t pointing toward her ears the way they usually did when she spoke to me. Instead, they drooped down toward her chin, making her frown look way sadder than a normal frown.

“I didn’t make anyone do anything,” she answered. “But I did mention your father to some of the people I know in upper management.”

“So it wasn’t the tables?”

“I don’t know anything about tables,” she said. “I just know he’s a good hardworking man. They were holding him back for the wrong reasons. We both know that. And I wanted them to see that.” Her voice had its familiar kindness but also sounded sad.

“So that’s why he got a promotion when no one else did? Because of you?”

“I thought they would wait until they had a full group of promotions to announce,” she said. “That’s how they always do it. I didn’t realize they would single him out and do it now. It wouldn’t have been such a big deal if they’d waited.”

“But it was a big deal.”

“I realized that when you told me about his injury,” she said. “That’s why I went back to talk to some of the folks down there, but I’m afraid I made it worse. I’m sorry, Danny,” she added. “I thought I was doing the right thing. It’s what Mr. Albertini had wanted. I didn’t know it would make things so much harder for your family.”

I shook my head to keep my tears away. “You knew,” I said quietly.

“No, Danny. I really didn’t.”

“But you knew what it was like to be the only Jewish kid in your school. You told me so. All that stuff about how the kids said awful things and how your dad was glad you weren’t a boy ’cause it would’ve been worse.” I didn’t want to raise my voice, but it was the only way to keep the tears from coming. “You said the words were bad enough, and you even had a friend who had to sneak around, just like I do.”

Mrs. Albertini reached for me again, but I pushed my chair back and stood up.

“Nobody here in Croyfield knows Lillian Gerstein,” I continued. “They know Lola Albertini. And you named your son Anthony. Was it so nobody would guess he was half Jewish?”

Mrs. Albertini didn’t answer.

“You wanted everything to be easier for him. That’s what you said. You said you knew!

“I made mistakes,” Mrs. Albertini said, nodding. “But just because things have been a certain way for years doesn’t mean they’re right. I wanted to speak up for a change. We can’t go on hiding forever.”

“You hid the truth to help your family,” I said. “You didn’t take any risks with them. But what about my family? Everything was fine before my dad got promoted. Nobody was beating him up, and I wasn’t getting bullied at school, and Nicholas didn’t have to lie just to hang out with me. None of that happened before!”

“Listen to me,” said Mrs. Albertini in a surprisingly fierce voice. “Your father deserved to be promoted. And he deserves to be treated better. Your entire family does!”

I’d never heard Mrs. Albertini sound angry before. I backed up slightly.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “But if no one ever asks for more, if no one ever takes a stand, nothing will ever change.”

“They don’t want us here. You’re not going to change that,” I told her.

“Not overnight, no,” she agreed. “But small changes can gradually lead to bigger changes. We have to start somewhere.”

I shook my head. “My dad’s promotion isn’t helping to change anything. The bosses only gave it to him as a favor to you. But it wasn’t even a real favor ’cause they keep letting him know they’re mad about it.”

“It is making a difference,” Mrs. Albertini said. “It will make things easier for others in the future. We have to keep fighting for our rights. When you stop fighting, you have nothing to gain.”

“I already have nothing to gain!” I yelled. “That big jerk at school is never gonna quit bothering me, the people at the factory are never gonna leave Dad alone, and Nicholas’s mom is never gonna let him hang out at my house. Why don’t you get it? That promotion ruined everything!”

I grabbed my book bag from where I had dropped it and headed toward the living room.

“Danny, wait!” Mrs. Albertini’s chair scraped across the kitchen floor, and I knew she had stood up to follow me. “I know this has been hard for you. But we can’t give up on doing what we believe in or fighting for what we deserve!”

I wanted to believe her, but twice this week my dad needed to put bags of frozen vegetables on his face because of stuff that happened at work that had nothing to do with walls. We’d tried to fight, and now everything was horrible. I ran out of Mrs. Albertini’s house without even saying goodbye.