Judith contemplated ripping up the letters or throwing them away, but she couldn’t bring herself to destroy them. The college stationery was too elegant, the envelopes too crisp. She ran her finger over the raised crest on the Barnard letter. Had she been naive to assume she belonged there? She felt foolish now, and relieved she hadn’t told any of the girls at school her secret.
She would write to the colleges tomorrow. She would tell them how sorry she was that she could not attend, but that personal matters prevented her. That was the right thing to say, wasn’t it? But she would keep the letters. She’d put them somewhere safe, maybe in a scrapbook or a keepsake box. And one day, when she was an adult with her own house and her own family, she would take them out and pass them around, and the people who loved her would look at them and be proud.
Chapter 31
ROSE
(June 1952)
Rose didn’t understand why Judith needed to leave for the graduation ceremony so early. If it didn’t start until ten, why did Judith insist on leaving the house at nine? “The students have to get there early to line up,” she explained to Rose. “We’re not allowed to sit with our families. I’ll see you there.”
Rose sighed. There were so many things about Judith that she didn’t understand. For one thing, she couldn’t comprehend why her daughter got so upset when Mort told her she couldn’t go to Barnard. Was it really worth it to pay all that extra money just for a fancier diploma? For that matter, why did Judith have to go to college when she was still so young? What was the rush?
“I feel like I’m going round in circles in high school,” Judith told her. “I just want the next part of my life to start.” Judith probably thought her mother had no idea what she meant. But it was the first thing Judith had said in a long time that made sense to Rose. For years, she had felt like she was running around in circles too. She had spent the first part of her married life wasting energy on an impossible task. It was only now that she realized how unattainable her goal had been. Mort would never be happy. There was no test she could pass that would change him.
In the years that followed, Rose nursed her grief with a heady tonic of remorse mixed with the resentment that stemmed from the burden of Helen’s constant surveillance. There was no comfort for her in this bitter concoction, but she nearly drowned herself in it just the same.
If Judith’s new start would be going to college, Rose’s new start would come from leaving the house on Christopher Avenue. As she cleaned out the closets and got rid of her family’s worn-out belongings, she pictured an internal purging as well, of her own worst thoughts and habits. When she taped up the boxes of china and crystal her mother had given her, she was Pandora in reverse, putting away her worst anxieties and failures, withholding only hope. She understood the desire for a clean slate more than Judith would ever know.
The graduation that morning was to be held in the high school gymnasium, and there were barely enough seats for everyone in the crowd. It was warm for June, and sitting with Teddy on her lap only made Rose feel more smothered.
Finally the principal stood and tapped the microphone at the podium. When they were done hearing from him, the school district superintendent and a multitude of class officers, they still had to suffer through the presentation of student awards by Vice Principal Kaplan. There was an award for service to the school, service to the community and another for the best scholar-athlete. By then, Rose was more than ready for the ceremony to end. She groaned silently as another speaker she did not recognize stepped up to the podium. “Good morning. My name is Abigail Morhardt, and I am the college counselor for William Wheeler High School.” Her name sounds familiar, Rose thought, but she couldn’t place it.
The attractive woman in the elegant cream suit continued, “Principal Singer asked me to present the final award to the valedictorian of this year’s graduating class. For three years, I have had the pleasure of watching this young woman develop her academic talents. After reading one of her freshman essays, I knew that she was a very special student. She has managed to complete all school course requirements in only three years, and I am so pleased that she will be continuing her journey this fall at City College. Ladies and gentlemen, I am thrilled to announce the valedictorian of the class of 1952: Judith Berman. Judith, please join me at the podium to accept your award.”
Rose looked over at Mort, hoping he wouldn’t be angry that they hadn’t known about the award beforehand. Mort didn’t look upset, but his face was difficult to read. He was straining his neck, trying to get a glimpse of Judith, but the graduates were sitting in alphabetical order at the front of the gymnasium and it took Judith a few minutes to make her way out of the crowd. When Rose finally saw Judith, she was relieved. The look of shock on her daughter’s face was unmistakable. It was clear she had no idea about the award. Rose watched as Mort leaned back in his chair.
When Judith finally made it to the podium, Mrs. Morhardt shook her hand vigorously and whispered something in her ear. Judith smiled shyly and cleared her throat into the microphone. “This is a tremendous surprise and a great honor. Thank you all so much.” Principal Singer stepped forward and handed Judith a wooden plaque, which she carried with her on the way back to her seat.
Teddy was clapping vigorously for his sister, even though he had no idea why. He slid off Rose’s lap and clapped until Rose told him to shush. “I told her she should have let me do her hair this morning,” Mimi whispered under her breath. “But did she let me? No…”
Rose silenced her with a glance, and Mimi went back to her compact mirror. Dinah had woken up just as Judith was headed back to her seat and wanted to know what she had missed. “Your sister was given an award for being the valedictorian,” Rose told her.
“What does ‘valedictorian’ mean?” Dinah asked.
“It means she’s the smartest one of all of them,” Mimi said.
Mimi loved to tease, so Dinah wasn’t sure if this was true. “Is that right, Papa?” she asked Mort. “Is Judith really the smartest?”
The entire family turned to Mort for his answer. “Statistically, she has the highest grade point average,” he answered.
“What does that mean?” Dinah asked again. Mimi, sensing her father’s impatience, pulled her sister aside and whispered loudly, “It means she’s the smartest. Now stop asking questions.”
After the last diploma was handed out, the graduates and their families filtered out of their seats and reunited on the small grassy area in front of the school. Rose was happy to be outside, but the boost to her mood was overshadowed by what she saw next. Nearly all the girls were holding small bouquets given to them after the ceremony by their families. Several were holding their bouquets in front of them like bridesmaids as they posed for photographs with friends. Rose felt guilty and then increasingly annoyed. How could she have known she was supposed to buy Judith a bouquet? Why had no one bothered to tell her?
A few moments later Mimi was waving to her cousin. “Happy graduation, Harry!” she called out. Harry, joined by the rest of his family, was walking toward them. Judith appeared at the same time, carrying her plaque, and Rose watched as Harry swooped her up in a congratulatory embrace. “Wow! You’re the valedictorian! Can you believe it? That’s fantastic!” Judith wasn’t used to so much attention—she was speechless. Abe hugged Judith next. Rose didn’t notice the small bouquet of yellow roses Helen was holding until her sister-in-law planted it firmly in her own hands. Rose turned to Helen, confused, but Helen motioned for Rose to be silent and take the bouquet. Helen wanted Rose to give it to Judith.