Christina Demetrious was done in by that news story. Ruby was an ambitious girl…she knew what she wanted, Ruby’s mother said. She couldn’t get that line out of her head. If she died suddenly, would her mother say that about her? She didn’t think so. Her mother didn’t know who she was or what she wanted. And that thought made her cry as much as the story in the paper.
Christina and her family had been at an anniversary party for her aunt and uncle in Metuchen on the day the plane crashed. The next morning, when Papou, her grandfather, had taken out the trash, he’d found pieces of the plane in their yard. Her father dropped them off at the police station on his way to work at his restaurant, Three Brothers Luncheonette. Baba was disappointed she wasn’t coming to work with him at the restaurant after graduation. She might have if there weren’t already four male cousins waiting to take over when Baba and her uncles retired. None of them believed a girl had any place working in a restaurant except as a waitress, a cashier or maybe a bookkeeper. Athena was smart to go into business with Mama, where she had a real future.
Christina was sure Dr. O would cancel the annual holiday outing to New York. She could see the toll the crash had taken, the way Dr. O worked all day, then rushed to the makeshift morgue to help identify bodies by their dental records. That would take the steam out of anyone. Sure, Dr. O still told jokes in the office—the one about the guy with the carrot in his ear was his latest—and he still whistled his patients’ favorite tunes while he worked on their teeth, but she could see it in his eyes, a sadness that was never there before.
This was the third year Christina had worked for Dr. O after school. He’d asked her to work for him full-time starting in June, when she graduated from Battin High School, and she was going to take him up on his offer.
If her mother knew who sometimes came to Dr. O’s office she would faint. Faint and then forbid her ever to return. Or maybe the other way around. Forbid, then faint. Her mother lived to see her girls safely married to Greek husbands, as if then nothing bad could happen to them. She already had her eye on someone for Christina, Zak Galanos. He was a senior at Newark State, majoring in education. Next year he’d be teaching. His father worked at Singer’s and was known around town as the Sewing Machine Man because he could repair or recondition any Singer. Christina’s father thought she could do better. A businessman, maybe, or a lawyer.
If her father knew she’d met Longy Zwillman, New Jersey’s most notorious gangster, at Dr. O’s office, let alone held a dental mirror in his mouth, she didn’t know what he’d do. But it wouldn’t be good. Now that Longy had a fancy society wife, two children, and lived in an ivy-covered mansion in West Orange, he was considered a wealthy businessman, not a gangster. He was active in the community, philanthropic, giving money to synagogues and other Jewish charities. No more talk of murder or other crimes. Still, everyone in her parents’ generation knew about him.
We don’t discuss what happens in the office, Daisy always reminded her. Daisy Dupree had worked as Dr. O’s secretary forever, since he set up his dental practice nearly twenty years ago. She was considered family by the Osners. Christina was learning from Daisy how to be discreet. Discretion. A word most of her classmates had never heard, and certainly never practiced.
Yesterday, Daisy had taken her aside to explain the rules for this year’s holiday outing. “Mrs. Osner has imposed a moratorium on crash talk,” Daisy said. “And, Christina…why don’t you wear the sweater set Mrs. Osner gave you for your birthday? I know she’d like to see it on you.”
She’d be happy to wear the sweater set. It was beautiful. Mrs. Osner’s gifts always were. As for happy talk, she could do that. Who wanted to talk about the crash, anyway? Who wanted to think that only eight people could be identified by their faces? Only eight. They all needed a break, didn’t they?
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THE TRIP FROM ELIZABETH to New York on the train took twenty-three minutes, with one stop in Newark. Christina brought along her knitting. She was making argyle socks for Jack for Christmas. The contrasting colors hung on dangling bobbins, not easy to keep straight on a herky-jerky train. She couldn’t work on them at home, except alone in her bedroom, because everyone knew you knitted argyle socks only for a boyfriend. When she was with the family she worked on the scarf she was knitting for Jack’s younger brother, Mason, or the matching coat for Mason’s dog, Fred. If Mama asked, Who is that for, Christina? she could say it was for Mr. Durkee, her favorite teacher, and Mama would approve.
Daisy, who was sitting next to her on the train, leaned over and said, “I love those socks!”