Lucy was busy putting the carved turkey slices on a platter. Judith wiped her eyes and opened the oven to check on the sweet potatoes. The marshmallows were golden on top. It was time to take it out. If it burned, Dinah would have a fit. She borrowed the oven mitts she saw on the counter and slowly removed the casserole from the oven. “Would you like me to bring this into the dining room, Lucy?” she asked.
“If you’d like, miss,” Lucy said. “Just put it on the sideboard.” Judith did as she was told and then made several more trips from the kitchen, carrying out stuffing, vegetables and other side dishes with Lucy. Some of them didn’t look too bad. She was happy for the distraction and glad not to have to speak to anyone for a few minutes. Teddy was still fussing on Mort’s lap, and her mother was talking to Faye.
On the last trip from the kitchen, Judith carried a white china bowl filled with cranberry sauce. She gripped the bowl carefully but stumbled on one of the tassels of the Persian rug peeking out from under the dining room table. As she landed on her backside, half on the rug and half on the shiny wooden parquet, Aunt Faye gasped. The bowl of crimson sauce was overturned in her lap. Luckily, the bowl was intact.
Lucy rushed over and helped her to her feet. “Come, miss, let’s get you cleaned up,” she whispered. Judith turned to her mother for support, but Rose wouldn’t look at her. Teddy’s fussing turned into a full-on wail and Dinah started whining about the sweet potatoes. Mimi was trying to hide her laughter by covering her mouth with her napkin and Mort was glaring at all of them. Uncle Stuart rose to his feet and poured himself a large glass of scotch from the decanter on the bar cart. Aunt Faye called out to Lucy, “Make a note to call the carpet cleaner tomorrow,” she said. No one asked if Judith was hurt. No one told her not to worry about the spill. The maid was the only one who took note of her at all.
After she and Lucy did whatever they could to clean off her dress, Judith came back into the dining room. The others had started eating, but Teddy was still fussing.
“Aunt Faye, Uncle Stuart, I’m very sorry for the mess,” she said, in as clear a voice as she could manage. “Not to worry dear,” Aunt Faye told her. “The carpet cleaners will be in tomorrow.” Judith looked at Stuart, but he was busy eating his dinner. She walked purposefully over to the sideboard, made a plate of soft foods and put it down at her place. Then she took Teddy from her father’s lap. “I’ll hold him,” she said. Judith held Teddy tightly on her lap, feeding him spoonfuls of mashed potato and stuffing. He cooed appreciatively, and the room was finally quiet.
“What a helpful young lady you are,” Aunt Faye observed. And then, to Rose, “She’s very good with the baby.”
Judith looked up and saw tears in her mother’s eyes. Everyone else was busy eating and didn’t notice. I’m sorry, her mother mouthed. Judith gave a little nod to show that she understood.
By the time they got home, it was almost ten o’clock and everyone was exhausted. Judith carried a sleeping Teddy into the house and saw that Aunt Helen had left several covered plates of food for them on the table. Judith’s stomach started growling—she had barely eaten anything the whole day, and she was only just then aware of how hungry she was. There was turkey, stuffing and the same sweet potato casserole Rose had made for Aunt Faye. There was another plate too, just of desserts, and Judith figured there was probably some apple pie in there somewhere. More than anything, she wanted to take off her coat, sit down at the table and start eating the leftovers.
If her mother hadn’t spoken to her that way in Aunt Faye’s kitchen, she probably would have. Even though it was late and the cold food would have given her a stomachache, she would have done it. But now she knew better. When she examined her mother’s expression, she saw what she was expecting: the tightening of the jaw, the hint of a frown, the squinting of the eyes that was imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t looking for it. But Judith was looking for it this time, and she could tell Rose was furious that Helen had let herself in and dropped off the food.
If Judith sat down to eat, she knew how her mother would interpret it: even one forkful of pie would mean Judith had taken Helen’s side. Judith was too tired for further arguments, so she walked past the table and pretended not to see the heaping plates. She carried Teddy into his room, changed him into pajamas and put him in his crib. Then she went to her own room, put on a nightgown and got under the covers. As she lay awake, she was unable to shake the feeling that something more complicated than a simple fight over Thanksgiving was going on between her mother and her aunt. Judith wanted to know what it was, but she knew she couldn’t ask. I’m going to have to start paying more attention from now on, she decided. Her stomach was still growling and she was a long way off from sleep.
Chapter 22
MORT
“Do you have a few minutes?” Abe waited for Mort’s nod before entering. He came in and shut the office door behind him. After some fidgeting, he finally said what was on his mind. “Something’s wrong with Helen and Rose.”
Mort didn’t understand. “Rose is fine. Is Helen sick?”
“I don’t mean that. Something’s wrong with the two of them together. They’re at each other’s throats. You haven’t noticed?”
“No.”
“Geez.” Abe let out a breath. Mort turned back to his desk. He wanted to get back to work, but Abe wasn’t done with the conversation.
“Listen, Teddy and Natalie are gonna turn one in a couple of weeks and I think we should have a party for them.”
Mort put down his pencil. “Isn’t that something Rose and Helen should work out?”
“That’s my point, Mort. If we leave it to them, it could turn into another fight. Like what happened at Thanksgiving. It’s gonna kill Helen if we don’t celebrate this together. You know how it is.”
Mort definitely did not know how it was. He had enjoyed Thanksgiving at Faye and Stuart’s apartment. It had been so much more civilized than their usual holidays with Abe’s family.
“What am I supposed to do about it, Abe?”
“Talk to Rose. You know, tell her you think it’d be nice to have a little party together. Whatever kind of party she wants.”
“Fine. I’ll talk to her when I get home.”
You would have thought Mort had just handed Abe a hundred-dollar bill—that’s how big the smile was on his brother’s face. It instantly made Mort wish he hadn’t agreed to it.
The truth was, Mort had noticed a difference in Rose since Teddy was born. He felt a change in her attitude that shifted something between them, a sense that she no longer cared as much about his approval. Since Rose had given him a son, Mort no longer felt justified in voicing any kind of criticism. What’s more, he was sure that Rose had detected this new weakness in his position.
The next morning, Mort decided to leave early to avoid Abe. He had put off talking to Rose and didn’t feel like explaining the delay to his brother. Mort was saying goodbye to the girls when two quick knocks at the door interrupted him. It was Abe, ten minutes earlier than usual. Mort’s plan of walking to work alone was ruined.
“Good morning!” Abe called into the kitchen.
“I’m ready to leave,” Mort grumbled. Abe held the door open for his brother to exit but snapped his fingers quickly, just before it clicked shut. Then he called out to Rose, who was pouring her second cup of coffee.
“I almost forgot! Rose, did Mort tell you the big news about Nat and Teddy’s birthday?”
Rose was suspicious. She put down the coffee and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “He didn’t mention anything.” Mort wanted to disappear.
“Ah, he wanted to surprise you, I guess. I haven’t told Helen yet either. But it’s too good. You’ve gotta hear this!”
“I’m sure,” Rose snapped. “What’s the surprise?”
Abe eased his way through the doorway and back into the kitchen, pulling Mort along with him. “You know Bob Sherman, our father’s old friend, the one who introduced us to the cereal guy?”