Don't Forget to Write: A Novel

“This is Lillian’s favorite,” Ada said. “She asked us to go get some in her honor.” The line wrapped halfway around the block. I expected Ada to just skip it and waltz in, but she went to the back with the rest of the patrons.

“Does she come with you to the shore every year?”

Ada nodded. “She needs to spend a few more weeks getting her mother’s estate in order. She’ll be able to join us for a week or so before we go back to Philadelphia.”

The line inched forward. “Have you ever thought about retiring? You clearly don’t need the money anymore. And you could live here year-round. You seem to love it so.”

“It’s impertinent to talk about money—especially when it’s not your own.”

“Okay—but the rest?”

She sighed. I was clearly ruining her good time. “I love it here in the summer. There’s nothing to do in winter. Most of the town is only open seasonally. And I’m not ready to retire. What would I do all day?”

It was a thought that hadn’t occurred to me. She had no children or grandchildren to spend her twilight years with. All she had was Sally and a paid companion—which didn’t rule out any true friendship that might exist between her and Lillian. But I envisioned her coming to stay with me someday when I was much older and married with children running around, a vaguely Freddy-shaped husband in the blurry background.

Then I had to hold in my laughter at the idea of a child rubbing its sticky fingers on Ada’s handbag. No. I wasn’t sure she was cut out for that type of retirement anyway.

But was that how she had always been? Or was it her age and the fact that she had spent so long doing only as she pleased?

“Were you ever in love?” I asked.

“My, how your mind jumps about from impolite question to impolite question.” She peered at me carefully as we moved closer to the steps leading up to the store’s entrance. “This better not be about that Goldman boy.”

I couldn’t let her see me flinch. “Freddy? Good grief, Ada, you see me talk to one boy, one time, and you think I’m in love? By that logic, you’re having an affair with Thomas.”

That got the desired laugh. “When you marry, you’ll do far better than Freddy Goldman. But yes. I’ve been in love a couple times.”

“Who—?”

She shook her head. “A lady doesn’t tell stories that don’t belong entirely to her.” She nudged me up the stairs and into the shop. The sign on the door said it had been open “since Prohibition.”

“How old is this place?”

“Younger than me, so watch it.” Ada stepped to the counter and ordered herself a cup of strawberry ice cream. I decided to try the Dutch apple.

We went back outside, where we sat on a bench, and I touched my tongue to the oversized scoop atop my cone. My eyes widened. “Okay, I like Lillian already.”

A real smile lit Ada’s face at that. “She has immaculate taste. I think you’ll enjoy her company.”

“I hope I’ve been a decent substitute.”

“Decent,” Ada said, musing. “Although if you go into my room and take that lipstick again, you’ll be finding yourself a decent seat on the train home.”

I almost dropped my cone.

“I—”

“Eat your ice cream,” she said mildly.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN


Ada and I settled back into our routine quickly. She didn’t ask why I took the lipstick, and I volunteered no information. I secretly suspected she knew and was just biding her time. Toying with me seemed to be one of her primary sources of joy. But she said nothing and returned to the task of meeting with the clients we had rescheduled—though she did keep me off the beach for three days, ostensibly to catch up, but I wondered if it was really her way of making sure I didn’t see Freddy.

We hadn’t planned for when we would see each other next. But each of those three nights, I sat with my window open, listening for cars. Tuesday, I went so far as to climb out onto the deck, peering down into the darkness, hoping to see Freddy waiting on me, missing me enough to take the chance that I would be outside.

Okay, what I really hoped for was a pebble thrown up to my window. Our whole lawn was rocks! All he had to do was show up, select one, and gently toss it at my lit window. It wasn’t like I was asking him to slay a dragon or climb up my hair.

But there was no sign of him.

When I finally went to bed Wednesday night, more than a little heartsick, I vowed to find a way to get to the beach Thursday afternoon. Ada sometimes stopped work early on Fridays and often went with me on weekends and if I missed this last opportunity, I wouldn’t see him alone before Monday—and that was if Ada didn’t decide I was finally ready to do some of the actual matching and start making me work afternoons every day as well.

“We have a lighter load today,” Ada said as the first clients climbed the porch. “I think you’ll be able to go to the beach this afternoon.” I tried not to smile too widely. The corners of Ada’s mouth turned down. “It’s a working trip,” she warned. “We’re running low on men. Ask that little friend of yours for any Jewish members of the beach patrol—or other friends he may have.”

“Can I borrow your lipstick to ask him?”

“No.”

The morning crept by, but it didn’t matter. I was going to see Freddy finally, and all would be right with the world again.





I crossed the dune path, a notebook and pen in my beach bag this time. If I failed, Ada would know and the jig would be up.

Instead of setting up my towel, I went straight to Freddy’s chair. He was sitting, his chin in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees, staring listlessly out at the ocean.

“Hey,” I said, coming around the side.

“Marilyn!” He jumped down, then picked me up and swung me around. “Where have you been? I thought you threw me off.”

“No. Ada kept pushing work at me. And I couldn’t exactly say I had to go to the beach.” Don’t say it, don’t say it, Marilyn, do NOT say it. But the words slipped out anyway. “I waited for you on the deck the other night. I hoped you’d come even though we didn’t have plans.”

“When you didn’t come to the beach, I thought—I’m sorry. I should have come.”

“Pick me up tonight?” I asked.

“Of course. Where do you want to go?”

I smiled. “Anywhere. As long as we’re together.” I started to walk away to set up my towel, but remembered my official reason for being there. “Wait, Freddy!” He had started to climb back up. “Ada sent me today because she’s running out of men. Do you have any friends who might be willing to go on a few dates?”

He shook his head. “She’s something. She won’t give you up, but I’m supposed to give you all my friends?”

“She’s not my father—remember that. I’m only living with her for the summer.”

“Yes, but I don’t want her poisoning your parents against me.” He sighed and turned to Louis, the other lifeguard on the chair. “Give the girl your number.”

“I don’t want to get married anytime soon,” he said, holding up his hands.

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