A few months later, when the time finally came to take Judith to Boston, Rose tried to avoid making the trip with her and Mort. But Helen had offered to take Mimi and Dinah for the night, leaving Rose no excuse for missing the ride. She could express to no one why she wanted to stay home or why her participation in the excursion would be so painful. Soon they were leaving together, bound for Massachusetts to give Judith the education and the adventure that Rose always thought had been reserved for Teddy alone.
Rose watched the miles go by through the dusty patches on the car window. Mort navigated the road and Judith sat behind them in the backseat, carrying on a conversation with her father as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Rose sat in silence, listening to them talk, listening to the familiarity that had sprung up between them like weeds through a sidewalk crack. And all the while Mort drove and all the while Judith chattered, Rose gripped her hands together on her lap and clamped her lips together. She was afraid to open her mouth, even to breathe, because in the car’s small space, stuck between her husband and her eldest daughter, Rose felt the anger brewing inside her push its way out of her chest and into her throat. She could feel it, twisting and bending, like smoke on her vocal chords, ready to burn its way up to her tongue. She pursed her lips tighter in an effort to stop it, for if she couldn’t, she knew, the truth would burn its way out of her and escape from her mouth in one inexhaustible scream.
Part Four
Chapter 49
NATALIE
(May 1961)
“I’m never getting married,” Natalie announced. She was standing on a small wooden box while Mrs. Tuber, the tiny seamstress in an ancient housecoat, pinned up the hem of her bridesmaid dress. The pale blue fabric was stiff and itchy. The skirt was too full, the neck was too low and the waist was uncomfortably tight. She couldn’t wait to take it off.
“Mmm hmm.” With a mouthful of pins poking out in all directions, Mrs. Tuber was unable to respond. Her gray head was bent over the hemline of Natalie’s skirt, and Natalie was afraid the woman might never make her way back to an upright position. “Are you sure you’re good all hunched over like that?” she asked.
Mrs. Tuber shuffled forward and bent down further. “Mmm.”
This was Natalie’s first time at Mrs. Tuber’s. The shop consisted of one small room, with a rack of clothes on one side and an old wooden table on the other. Two sewing machines were set up on the table, and spools of thread in every color were strewn across the top. Natalie wanted to leave. She didn’t like how people passing by on the street could see her through the shop’s picture window. She kept her back to the glass while she stood on the box, but she could see the reflections of the people walking past in the mirror that ran the length of the shop’s rear wall. One little boy pressed his face up against the glass and stuck his tongue out at her. She glared back.
Finally the seamstress rose from her spot on the floor. She stood back a little from the mirror and clucked approvingly at the fit. With the pins out of her mouth and tucked into the bottom of the dress, Mrs. Tuber was free to speak at last. “Soon it will be your turn to be the bride!” she told Natalie.
“I already told you. I don’t want to get married.”
“You’re only thirteen,” Helen interjected. She was sitting on an old wooden chair in the corner of the shop. “You’re too young to say things like that.”
Mrs. Tuber agreed. “When my daughter was your age, she wanted to be a dancer. She swore she’d never get married. Then the right fella came along, they fell in love and then she got married—just like that.” She snapped her fingers.
“Real love isn’t that simple,” Natalie protested. “It doesn’t just happen all of a sudden.” She was tired of talking nonsense with some woman she had only just met. The room was getting hot and she was starting to sweat in the dress.
Mrs. Tuber shrugged. “What’s so complicated? You meet a fella. You either love him or you don’t.”
“You can’t just say that. What about Antony and Cleopatra?” Natalie wanted to know. “Or Guinevere and Lancelot?” She threw up her hands in frustration. “What about Bonnie and Clyde?”
Mrs. Tuber stared at Natalie like she had two heads. She turned to Helen. “I thought you said she was only thirteen. Already she’s an expert on heartache?”
Mrs. Tuber hadn’t known their family for very long. She didn’t know what kind of heartache they’d been through. Natalie watched her mother stand up, fish a tissue out of her purse and blow her nose. Natalie calmed herself down and tried to salvage the conversation. “Fine. I might get married someday.” Her voice was artificially bright. “When I’m older.”
Mrs. Tuber nodded. “Now you’re making sense.” She took a ticket from a stack on the table and stuck it on a hanger. “Tell me again, who’s getting married?” She waved Natalie into the small changing area that was marked off with a curtain in one corner of the room. “My cousin Mimi,” Natalie called out. “I’m one of the bridesmaids.”
“That’s right,” Mrs. Tuber said. “The cousin. Pretty girl. Looks like you. She came here last week with her sister. I told her I would fix her wedding dress, but she said it didn’t need fixing. Some fancy store did it for her.”
Natalie came out from behind the curtain and handed the dress to Mrs. Tuber. Then she walked over to her mother and took her by the arm. “Mimi likes everything fancy, right, Mom?”
Helen agreed. “Lucky for her, she’s marrying a rich man. His family insists on paying for everything.”
“Good!” Mrs. Tuber said. “She should live and be well.”
“She should live and be well,” Helen repeated.
*
Three weeks later Natalie was in the itchy dress again. The bride and groom had just finished their first dance, and Natalie was hiding, sitting on a chair she had dragged to a corner of the cavernous room, behind a pillar and a pair of potted palms. She couldn’t bear the thought of speaking to one more stranger or having to smile for one more photograph.
“I can see you, you know.” Natalie recognized the voice. She peered out from behind a clump of fronds.
“Johnny? Is that you?” she whispered.
“Yup.”
“You weren’t at the ceremony. I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Where were you?”
“My mom took forever to get ready, so we got here late.” He tugged gently at the black bow tie that topped off his tuxedo. “What are you doing?”
“Hiding.”
“From who?”
“Everyone. Being a bridesmaid is awful. Edward’s mother is worse than Aunt Rose. She’s so bossy. She wouldn’t even let me sit down before the ceremony. She said my dress would wrinkle.”
“Who the heck is Edward?”
“The groom! Didn’t you read the invitation?”
“Nope. Never even saw it.”
Natalie snorted. “Of course you didn’t. I guess it’s no use asking whether you read the engagement announcement in the newspaper.”
“Who reads the newspaper?”
“For Pete’s sake, Johnny, your father owns a newsstand!”
“Never mix business with pleasure. Besides, who cares which rich guy Mimi married? I just want some food. Come on out of there. Please.”
Natalie sighed. “All right. But if Edward’s mother comes near me, I’m going back.” Natalie stuck one arm out through the greenery. “Can you help me? It’s tricky in these shoes.” Johnny grabbed her hand and pulled gently, but after she emerged he still didn’t let go of her hand. He held it and stared at her.
“What? Is my dress ripped or something?” Natalie took her hand away and looked over her shoulder to see whether the back of her skirt was torn. Her cheeks were flushed.
“You look really … nice.” Johnny’s voice sounded strange. He was probably making fun of her. They always teased each other.
“Ugh. This dress is awful. It’s so tight and the skirt is too puffy, and—”
“No. It’s nice.”
“It is?” She squinted her eyes, trying to read his expression, but he only looked down at his shoes. “Thanks.” The silence became uncomfortable.
Johnny recovered first. “Let’s head over that way.” He pointed across the dance floor. “There’s a waiter with those tiny lamb chops.”
Natalie stood up on her toes to look and grabbed his hand as soon as she saw the tray. “Let’s go,” she told him, already running. “I’m starving!”
Chapter 50
JUDITH