In the Unlikely Event

Rusty gave a little cough to get the attention back to the toasts. She held up her glass. “Here’s to the best brother a girl could ever have. And you know I mean that, Henry. May you and Leah enjoy health and happiness always.” Then she choked up.

 

“Here, here…” Ben Sapphire said. Miri was surprised when he held up his glass because it wasn’t like he was one of the family. Still, no one stopped him from speaking. “Leah,” Ben Sapphire said, “you are joining a kind, generous, loving family. They rescued me when I thought my life was over and helped me find a reason to keep going.”

 

Now Miri was really surprised. She’d never heard Ben Sapphire say much of anything, let alone something so deep. At least it sounded deep to her. She was trying to think of what she could possibly say after that when Alma clutched her arm. Miri could tell she was growing more and more anxious. Now her hands shook as she passed Miri a note card. “I can’t make speeches,” she whispered. “Will you do it for me?”

 

So Miri held up her glass the way the others had, and read, “Aunt Alma is so happy that Henry and Leah are marrying.” Miri glanced over at Aunt Alma, who gave her a nod and a small, grateful smile. “And she looks forward to the day you bring your children to her house to play in her yard.”

 

“Please,” Irene said. “Don’t rush them. They’re not even married yet.” Then everyone laughed, except Alma, who was embarrassed by what she had asked Miri to say for her.

 

Miri didn’t say any of the things she might have said to Henry alone. He was just thirteen years old when she was born. All of her childhood memories involved him. He was gentle with her and always kind. He never lied, never shied away from taking her questions seriously. When he went away to war she couldn’t stop crying. Every morning and every night she prayed for him. She prayed to a god she didn’t know, not the god from the High Holidays, but some other god, who wouldn’t be too busy to listen. Every night when she sat down to supper with Rusty and Irene, they joined hands, bowing their heads and closing their eyes. That meant they were thinking of Uncle Henry, who was over there.

 

Irene pasted a blue star in her window, signaling she had a son in the military. When they had air raid practice at night, when the sirens went off and they lowered their blackout curtains, Rusty would lie next to her in bed and tell her stories about Uncle Henry when he was a little boy. She’d always end by promising Miri the war could never come to Elizabeth and no enemy could harm them or any of America. Miri believed her until recently. The day Henry came back from the war was the happiest day of Miri’s life.

 

 

WHEN HENRY ORDERED broiled lobster, Alma surprised everyone by saying she’d have one, too. “My friend has a cottage in Maine and when I visited we bought lobsters right off the dock.”

 

“I’ve never been to Maine,” Rusty said.

 

“I highly recommend it,” Alma told her.

 

Miri watched, fascinated, at the way Alma dissected her lobster, meticulously removing every bit of meat before eating a bite, dipping each piece into butter, uttering small sounds of satisfaction as she did. She was the last to finish her meal.

 

As the waiter was clearing their plates, Miri saw a tall man come up to Dr. O. Dr. O jumped up from the table. The men shook hands warmly, the taller one squeezing Dr. O’s shoulder. Then Dr. O guided the tall man over to their table. “I’d like to introduce you to Henry Ammerman,” he said. “He’s been covering the crash for the Daily Post. He’s about to become famous.”

 

“You should write for the Newark News,” the tall man said. “You want an interview, I can set one up.” Then he put out his hand and introduced himself. “Abner Zwillman. Abe, to friends. Very pleased to meet you.” His suit and tie and polished shoes looked expensive. His dark hair was threaded with silver and slicked back. In his hand he held an unlit cigar. He looked around the table. “And who is this ravishing young lady?”

 

Miri thought he was talking about her because of the young lady business—but then she realized he was focused on Rusty.

 

“Rusty Ammerman,” Dr. O said, making introductions. “Henry’s lovely sister.”

 

Abner/Abe took Rusty’s hand and kissed it. “Enchanté,” he said, making Rusty blush.

 

“You know who that was?” Henry said to Rusty, when Abner/Abe was gone. “That was Longy Zwillman.”

 

“Oh, my gosh,” Rusty said, blushing an even deeper shade of pink. “That was Longy? Longy kissed my hand?”

 

“Yeah,” Henry said, “but that wasn’t all he was thinking of kissing.”

 

“Henry, stop!” Rusty pretended to swat him with her pocketbook.

 

Aunt Alma looked shocked. But not so shocked that she wouldn’t have liked a handsome man to be enchanté over her, too.

 

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