—
THAT NIGHT they made love using both her new diaphragm and a rubber, because she wasn’t sure she was using the diaphragm correctly. She found it complicated and messy. First you had to put in the jelly and rub it around, making sure you got enough over the rim, then you had to squeeze it together and insert it into your vagina, getting it up far enough. She’d been practicing in her room at night. When she pulled it out she had to wash it, pat it dry and store it in its case, something else she’d have to hide, or maybe Jack would keep it. Yes, that would make sense. She supposed she’d get used to it. She supposed it would get easier. They were going to be married for a long time and she didn’t want to be pregnant every year like Mrs. O’Malley’s daughter, who’d already had five babies. But she still wasn’t relaxed about going all the way. She supposed she had to give it some time.
Elizabeth Daily Post
ROSENBERGS GET PASSOVER VISIT
APRIL 9 (UPI)—Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, sentenced to die for transmitting A-bomb secrets to the Soviet Union, received a pre-Passover visit at Sing Sing prison from their 5-and 9-year-old sons. Meanwhile, following today’s denial of their last plea to the Court of Appeals, the couple’s lawyer said that he would be filing an appeal with the United States Supreme Court.
29
Miri
Twice a week Miri sent a card to Natalie at the Watchung Hills Children’s Home. Heard you were under the weather. Well, come on out! Miri wasn’t sure Natalie would find any of the cards funny. Half the time she wasn’t sure they were funny. Sometimes she’d include a little note, trying to keep it light, something about school, or about a TV show. Uncle Miltie dressed as Carmen Miranda Tuesday night. He wore a hat loaded with bananas, pineapples and grapes. My mother laughed so hard she almost didn’t make it to the bathroom in time. She’d bought all the cards at once at the Ritz Book Shop, along with a copy of Seventeenth Summer. She and Natalie had read it together, at the beginning of eighth grade, and Miri hoped when and if she had the chance to give it to her, it would remind Natalie of their friendship, because Natalie didn’t answer any of Miri’s cards or notes.
Irene suggested inviting Mason to their Seder on the first night of Passover, surprising Miri. Miri wore her new patent-leather slingbacks. Mason brought lilacs for Irene. They all missed Henry and Leah, who had gone to visit Leah’s parents. But Miss Rheingold was there and Blanche Kessler from the Red Cross with her family and Ben Sapphire.
Corinne called a few days later, another surprise, saying if Miri would like to see Natalie she would pick her up at school the next afternoon, if that was convenient for her.
That night Miri wrapped the copy of Seventeenth Summer and tied it with one of the ribbons from Irene’s collection. “She doesn’t know you’re coming,” Corinne said on the drive to Watchung. “She doesn’t want anyone to see her in this place but the doctors think it might be good for her to begin to reconnect to the outside world.”
“Is she coming home soon?”
“Maybe in time for graduation. Just act as if nothing’s changed. As if you’re still best friends.”
Aren’t we still best friends? Miri thought, though she didn’t say it aloud.
The Watchung Hills Children’s Home, a big white house, sat on a hill surrounded by tall trees. The azaleas were in bloom. The grass was very green.
Inside, the halls were filled with music and children’s laughter.
Corinne stopped outside Room 218. She knocked on the door before turning the knob. “Everyone decent?” She didn’t wait for a reply.
Miri hung back, anxious, not sure what she’d find inside the room.
“Nat…look who’s here!” Corinne called, stepping back to make room for Miri. “I’ll leave you two alone to catch up,” she said brightly, as if there were nothing unusual about Miri visiting Natalie in this place. Then she disappeared.
From the look on Natalie’s face, first surprise, then anger followed by disgust or maybe embarrassment, Miri could see Natalie didn’t want her there any more than she wanted to be there.
“Hi,” Miri said, trying to make her voice sound as bright as Corinne’s.
“Hi.”
“I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“I’m alive, if that’s what you mean.” Natalie’s voice had an edge to it.
In the other bed someone was sleeping. She had the covers pulled up so high almost her whole head and face were covered. One arm lay outstretched, attached to tubes.
Natalie was wearing regular clothes—dungarees, a shirt and a bulky cardigan sweater. She didn’t look any different to Miri than she had that day she went cuckoo in the basement. Well, maybe a little better than that, but not much.
“You were there that day, right?” Natalie asked.
“Which day?”
“That day I went to the hospital.”
“Oh, that day.”
“You’ll never believe who my nurse was.”