“You know me, I never throw anything away.” Helen let out a nervous laugh.
“I knew it. It’s always something about Teddy with you.”
“No, no. I just noticed last week he wasn’t walking so well and he said you didn’t get a chance to take him to the shoe store because you were sick.”
“I’m not blind, Helen! I wanted to take him for shoes today, but he threw a fit because he wanted to go to your house! He’d have had new shoes by now if it wasn’t for you!”
“Me? You’re blaming me? I’m giving him shoes!”
“Of course you are. You’re always coming to the rescue. Pointing out every little thing I do wrong. Keep your damned shoes, Helen! Keep them. Because so help me, if Teddy comes home with them I will throw them in the garbage!” Rose slammed down the phone. Her breathing was heavy and her hands were shaking. What a fool I am, she thought, worrying about the teacher. I should have known Helen would be the first one to notice.
Chapter 37
HELEN
(November 1956)
It had been nine years since they were all together for Thanksgiving. Helen wondered if Rose remembered. After Natalie and Teddy were born, Rose’s family started going to her aunt Faye’s for the holiday. But Faye’s husband, Stuart, had retired over the summer, and Faye and Stuart decided to spend the winter in Miami. When Helen called with an invitation, Rose had no excuse.
At first Helen had been thrilled. After a week passed, however, her excitement turned to regret. She was nervous. They had shared other holidays over the years—there had been Yom Kippur break-fasts, Fourth of July barbecues and Passover seders—but those had always included other relatives or friends. Thanksgiving would be just the two families. Even Sol and Arlene couldn’t make it—they had gone to Arlene’s brother’s place in New Jersey.
Luckily Helen didn’t have to worry about the food. Her Thanksgiving menu hadn’t changed much in the past eight years. That was one of the best things about the holiday, she decided. People didn’t want to be surprised—they wanted the classics: turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, apple pie. Judith always loved my apple pie.
Helen had seen Judith a few weeks earlier when she’d dropped off a birthday present for Dinah at the house. Helen wanted to stay and talk to her, but there hadn’t been time. She was glad she would see Judith today.
“Natalie! Come help me set the table!”
“Coming!” Natalie appeared a few moments later wearing denim overalls handed down from one brother and a faded green T-shirt handed down from another. Helen wasn’t surprised. That’s what happens when you have four older brothers.
“Hey, Mom, what’s this?” Natalie was rummaging through the drawers of the breakfront in the dining room searching for extra napkins. She held up a small cardboard box. “I found it under the napkin rings.”
Helen looked up from the silverware she was arranging. “I don’t know,” she said. “Let me see.”
Natalie passed the box to her mother. Inside it were four neat stacks of small cream cards. “They’re place cards. I think someone gave them to me at my bridal shower. I can’t believe I still have them.”
“Can we use them?”
“You mean for today?”
“I’m going to write all the names out in orange for Thanksgiving. It’ll be so pretty!”
Helen laughed. “All right, if you really want to. But you’d better get started. Everyone will be here in a few hours and you still need to change out of those overalls.”
Half an hour later Natalie brought the finished cards into the dining room and started placing them on the table. “Mommy,” she asked, “who should I put next to you?”
“Oh, I don’t care. Just put me near the kitchen. And separate your brothers a little bit. If they’re all together they’ll kill each other.”
“I know. I put Dinah between George and Joe, and Mimi between Harry and Sam.”
“That was good thinking.”
“Yeah, but … where do you think I should put Aunt Rose?”
Helen knew what Natalie was hinting at from the way she asked the question. Is it that noticeable? Even to Natalie?
To be honest, Helen hadn’t thought for one moment about sitting or not sitting next to Rose. She had been too busy cooking. But now there were place cards, and she worried that Rose might think she had orchestrated the seating arrangement. “Why don’t you sit next to Aunt Rose?” she told Natalie.
“I can’t. I’m sitting next to Teddy on one side and Uncle Mort on the other.”
Helen was touched. “Oh honey, you can put Uncle Mort next to me. You don’t have to sit next to him.”
But Natalie was matter-of-fact. “I want to sit next to him.”
“You do?”
“Sure! Uncle Mort is really funny.”
“He is?” Helen was shocked.
Natalie nodded. “He told us a crazy story about mathematicians and cake. He was making it up but he acted really serious so we believed him. Mommy, what’s that called again, when you act serious but you’re really not?
“Sarcasm?”
“Yes! That’s it! Uncle Mort is great at sarcasm. Plus, he’s a really good teacher. On Thursdays after dinner, he teaches me and Teddy from his old math books. He makes up special problems for us because the books are too hard.”
Helen was speechless. Mort was teaching them math? Mort was funny? How had such a grim and humorless man captured Natalie’s affection? Helen didn’t want to think about it.
“Mommy?” Natalie’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Should I put Aunt Rose next to George?”
“That’s perfect, honey. Put her there and you can put Judith between us.”
Natalie switched two of the cards. “All done!”
Helen pulled her in close for a hug and kissed her on the top of her head. She breathed in her daughter’s scent—a mixture of cinnamon gum and Ivory soap. “I am so thankful for you,” she whispered in Natalie’s ear. Natalie kissed her cheek and promptly wiggled out of the embrace. Then she made a quick dash for the platter of pumpkin bread at the center of the table. “I’m thankful for pumpkin bread,” she said. She crammed half the piece in her mouth, waved to her mother and skipped out of the room.
Chapter 38
JUDITH
Judith was uncomfortable sitting between her mother and Aunt Helen. It was reminiscent of the dinner they shared so many years ago at that Italian restaurant in Manhattan—the place where the owner was a “friend” of Helen’s brother Sol. Judith remembered her mother and aunt quarreling over where she should sit at the table that night.
Back then, when Judith was only twelve, she assumed that Uncle Sol’s restaurant “friend” was just that. She never wondered why he agreed to give so many strangers a free seven-course meal. Harry had explained the truth of it to her on one of their first train rides together into the city for classes, and Judith had been angry at herself for being so naive. How could she not have realized that the man owed Sol money? Harry had shrugged and told her not to worry about it. You were little, he had told her. What does a little girl know about bookies? Still, the realization bothered her. What else had she overlooked?
A few weeks later on another train ride, Judith had finally summoned the courage to ask Harry the question that still plagued her: Do you know why our moms don’t get along anymore? But Harry had no insight to offer on the topic. In fact, he seemed barely aware of it.
*
“Who wants dark meat?” Uncle Abe was passing around a platter of turkey.
“Me!” Natalie was trying to take one of the wings before her brothers grabbed them both.
“I’ll take that, thank you.” It was Judith’s father, gallantly skewering a wing from the platter with his knife and placing it on Natalie’s plate. “There you are,” he told his niece.
“Thanks, Uncle Mort!” Natalie beamed.