“I-I don’t know . . . I just made up my mind at the last minute.”
An ironing board stood in one corner of the kitchen with a basketful of clothes waiting beneath it. The half-finished dishes were piled around the sink. Hazel had an electric fan blowing, but it didn’t do much to cool the room. She pulled the kerchief from her head and untied her apron.
“Sorry about the mess.”
“I don’t care about the house,” Penny said. “I came to see you.” She couldn’t stop smiling. Hazel had greeted her so warmly. The sight of Penny hadn’t repulsed her or reminded her of the rape. Mr. Mendel had been right – her mother’s reaction had surprised her.
“Let’s sit out back,” Hazel said. “I think it’s a little cooler on the porch. Would you like something cold to drink? I have iced tea.”
“Sure. That sounds good.”
But Hazel made no move to fetch the tea. Instead, she reached out to stroke Penny’s hair in a tender gesture. “You’re so pretty! Gosh, I can’t stop staring at you! I feel tongue-tied. . . . I can’t wait for you to tell me all about yourself.”
“Sure.” Penny could barely reply through her tears. Hazel finally pulled her gaze away and took two glasses from the cupboard and a pitcher of tea from the refrigerator. She cracked open an aluminum tray of ice cubes and dropped some into each glass. Penny saw Hazel’s hands shaking.
“Mother says you sell tickets at the bus station?”
Penny cleared the lump from her throat. “I used to. Last fall, my boss asked me if I wanted to learn how to drive a city bus and so I did. I have my own bus route now. The pay is real good, and I get to meet all kinds of interesting people.”
“My baby . . . sister,” Hazel murmured, hesitating slightly between the two words. “Good for you, Penny!”
She led the way through the back door to a small covered porch and two wicker rocking chairs. Penny felt sweat trickling down the back of her neck, but whether it was from the warm July day or her nerves, she couldn’t tell. Maybe both.
“I admire you for taking on a job like that,” Hazel said as she sat down beside Penny. “I kept to a more traditional job as a secretary, but I guess you’re like one of those Rosie the Riveters they’re always talking about in the magazines, tackling a man’s job so they can go fight the war.”
“Yeah, I guess . . . Tell me about your life, Hazel. I can’t even remember the last time I saw you. I wasn’t even old enough for school yet.”
“There’s not much to tell. I’m an ordinary housewife. Barry is in sales; his company has a government contract, so he travels a lot. He won’t be home until next week – ” Hazel stopped, and Penny could see her struggling to control her emotions. “Sorry . . . I’m sorry . . . it’s just that seeing you again is so . . . I always dreamed we would be together one day, but I never thought . . . and here you are, so pretty . . .” She smiled through the tears that rolled down her face.
Penny no longer wanted to pretend that Hazel was her sister. “I know the truth,” she said. “About you and me.” As soon as the words were out, Penny wanted to take them back. What if Hazel got angry or upset?
But Hazel sprang from her chair and bent over Penny, pulling her into her arms, hugging her tightly. “My baby . . . my dear little girl . . . At last, at last! Oh, Penny! Can you ever forgive me?”
“What for? There’s nothing to forgive. I don’t blame you for what happened.”
Hazel pulled back to face her. “I didn’t abandon you, Penny, honest I didn’t. I never wanted to give you up at all! I’ve thought about you every day for the past twenty-five years.”
“I wish I had known sooner,” Penny murmured. “I just found out about us.” At last they released each other and Hazel sank down on her chair again, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose on a handkerchief.
“You have to understand that I was only seventeen when you were born. Our parents were furious, of course. They sent me to a home for unwed mothers until you were born, then they moved to where they live now so that none of the old neighbors would find out. I lived there with them and raised you until you were two and a half.”
“You did?”
Hazel nodded. “I changed all of your diapers and bathed you and read stories to you and rocked you to sleep at night. I watched you take your first steps. Then Father and Mother decided that I should go to secretarial school. They saw how close we were becoming and that you thought of me as your mother, and they were afraid that I wouldn’t let you go. And believe me, I didn’t want to let you go.”
She paused to take a deep breath and wipe her tears. “I thought about running away with you, but I had signed all the adoption papers.
You were officially their daughter and always would be. They made me give you up, Penny. Single girls don’t have babies. They told me that you and I would always live in shame if I kept you.” She reached to take Penny’s hand as if pleading with her. “I loved you and wanted the very best for you, and so they convinced me that giving you up was the best thing to do. You could grow up with two parents and have a normal life. No one would ever know the truth. They wanted me to have a normal life, too, without the scandal of a baby. I didn’t care, but they said the truth would hurt you – and I would rather die than let that happen.”
“Why didn’t you come to see me? You never visited us.”
“They didn’t want me to. They knew how close we were, how attached you were to me, and I think they were afraid I would tell you the truth. Those months after I left, I was so lonesome for you. I just wanted to hold you again and see you smile and hear you laugh. . . . They sent me pictures once in a while when I begged them to. But they insisted that this was the best thing for everyone. They said you were happy and that I shouldn’t rock the boat. You were happy, weren’t you?”
Penny nodded. She had been, for the most part. “They weren’t like other parents, but I did have a good life. They always told me that I wasn’t like other girls, but I never knew why. They said I had to be more careful, and they were very protective of me, afraid to let me do anything. But everyone thought I was their daughter – and so did I until I needed my birth certificate. That’s how I found out I was adopted.”
“If I could do it all over again, I would never give you up.”
“Why didn’t you write to me?”
“I did! I sent letters and birthday cards and birthday presents every year. And Christmas presents. And each time you got a year older I would cry because I missed watching you grow up. Didn’t you get my presents?”
“They may have given them to me, but they never said they were from you.” Penny swallowed her anger at the injustice. “Why did they do this to us?”
“They thought it was for the best.”
“Well, they were wrong! I wish I could stay here and live with you.”
“I wish you could, too. But I have a husband and two sons now. They don’t know about you, Penny.”
“Oh . . . I don’t blame you for being ashamed of me.”
Hazel gripped Penny’s hands in hers and squeezed. “Never! Never in a million years am I ashamed of you. But I never told my husband that I had you, and I don’t know how he’ll react. I need to talk to him first. I can’t just spring it on him. But, oh! It will be so good to have you back in my life, Penny!”
“I thought you might hate me because I would remind you of . . . of what my real father did to you.”
Hazel looked away for the first time, and Penny immediately regretted mentioning her father. She wished she could take back her words. When Hazel finally looked at her again, she seemed embarrassed. “I’m so sorry, Penny. But what I told them about your father isn’t true. I lied because I couldn’t face my own guilt. I loved your real father. Or at least I thought I did at the time.”
“So you weren’t raped?”
Hazel shook her head. “Lies have a way of multiplying and making matters worse. I made up that story about being raped because I was ashamed to admit the truth. They didn’t k
now about my boyfriend – and they were so strict! I was ashamed that I had let Mark have his way, so when I realized that I was pregnant I made up a story about being raped. I’m so sorry.”
Penny leaned back in her chair, stunned. The lie had affected Penny all of her life. It was the reason her parents had treated her the way they did, the reason they’d been so protective, the reason they could never quite love her. But at last she was free from the lie. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “At least I know the truth now.”
“Don’t hate Mother and Father. It wasn’t their fault. I was rebellious and made a mess of things, and they did the best they could to fix my mistakes.”
“Who’s my real father? You said his name is Mark?”
Hazel gave a sad little smile. “He was a boy from high school. I thought I loved him and that he loved me. It’s funny how your opinion of love changes when you’re finally old enough to understand what love is all about. He disappeared from my life when he found out I was pregnant, but I don’t really blame him. He came from a good family and was hoping for an appointment to West Point after we graduated.
He’s probably a general in the war by now. He always was very smart.
But we were both young, and we let ourselves get carried away.”
“So he knew about me?”
“He knew I was pregnant but not what happened to us. After I graduated from secretarial school I got a good job in an office and met my husband, Barry. I’m sorry for the mistakes I made, but I was never sorry that I had you. You have Mark’s smile, you know – that dimple in just one cheek that’s only there when you smile.”
“Could we find my father? I want to know what happened to him.”
“Let it go, Penny. After all this time, why turn his life upside down? He probably has a family, too.”
“I would still like to know his name and find out more about him. I promise I won’t show up on his doorstep or write to him or anything.”
“I’ll have to think about it.” Hazel picked up her glass of iced tea and took a sip, then set the sweating glass down again. “You’re so pretty, Penny. I can’t stop looking at you.”
Tears filled Penny’s eyes. For the first time in her life, someone was looking at her with eyes of love, the way she had always wished her mother would.
And that was enough, for now. It was more than enough.
CHAPTER 39
THE STICKY SUMMER AFTERNOON made Esther as limp and damp as melted ice cream. As she and Peter walked from the bus stop, she knew it would be even hotter inside Grandma Shaffer’s tiny, crammed house. She never opened her windows and had only one puny fan to stir the hot air.
“Grandma, we’re here,” Esther called as she opened the back screen door.
“I’m in here.” Grandma sat in a living room chair, fanning herself with a Chinese paper fan. She had taken off her shoes and propped her feet on a footstool, and her pale ankles looked as huge as cabbages. “There you are,” she said when she saw Esther and Peter. “I’ve been worried about you two. According to the radio, the baseball game ended an hour ago.”
“The ball park was full of people, Grandma, so it took a long time to empty out. But once we got to the street, the bus brought us straight here, just like Penny said it would. We’re fine.”
In fact, they were more than fine. As Peter had sat in the stands with Mr. Mendel, watching his beloved Dodgers play, he looked happier than Esther had seen him in a long, long time. He still looked happy, his cheeks and nose freckled from the sun. Esther wished they could have gone home to their own apartment with Mr. Mendel so Peter wouldn’t be reminded that Grandma’s dog was still missing. Maybe he would stay happy for a little while longer. But Penny had gone to New Jersey for the day and wouldn’t be home until late. They would have to spend another night here.
“Oh my, look at your faces!” Grandma said. “You both got too much sun. You should put some witch hazel on your skin to cool it off.”
Esther’s arms and face did feel very hot, but she didn’t care. “The Dodgers won, Grandma, six to nothing. They even hit a home run with two runners on base.”
“Did you eat anything? Are you hungry?”
“Mr. Mendel bought roasted peanuts for us. And hot dogs.”
“The Jewish man bought them? Didn’t Penny give you any money to spend?”
“He wanted to treat us. He couldn’t eat any of the food, but there’s no law against buying it for us.”
“If you’re hungry, you’ll have to fix yourself something. I can’t do a thing in this heat.”
Peter tapped Grandma’s shoulder and pointed toward the backyard, then made a pouring motion. “He wants to know if you checked on his garden, Grandma. Do you think it needs watering?”
“I saw Penny’s father out there with a watering can. You would think they were his plants the way he hovers over them. He checks on them three or four times a day when you’re not here.” But Peter disappeared out the back door to check on his garden, just the same.
Grandma stopped fanning herself and sighed. Her face looked as pink as a peony. “Is Penny going to be back in time to go to work Monday?”
“She said she would be.” Esther found a piece of cardboard on top of one of the piles and used it to fan herself, making sure the limp breeze reached her grandmother’s face, too. “Are you coming to church with us again sometime, Grandma?” She had gone with them this morning in Penny’s place, and Esther thought it had cheered her up. Ever since reading Queen Esther’s story with Mr. Mendel, Esther had enjoyed going to church again. As her Sunday school teacher and minister prayed for all of the men who were fighting in the war, she could more easily imagine how God might be working behind the scenes.
“We’ll see. Who knows how long my ankles will stay swollen.”
Esther hopped off the arm of the chair where she had been sitting, too excited to remain seated. “I have a piano lesson on Monday. I can’t wait! Penny already showed me which bus to take to my music school. I’ll go straight there in the morning, but I’ll be back in time for lunch.”
She had felt scared the first time she’d walked up the steps of the music conservatory. The beautiful old mansion looked like something from a Hollywood movie. But once she’d stepped inside and heard music pouring from all of the rooms, filling the building with glorious sounds, Esther had felt as though she had come home.
“Are you sure your father would approve of you riding buses all over Brooklyn by yourself?”
“I’m thirteen, Grandma. Besides, Penny knows all the drivers. She made them promise to watch out for Peter and me. And Mr. Mendel says he knows of a baseball team for Peter to join. Penny is going to take him there and see if he likes it. It’ll give him something to do while I’m in music classes.”
“Who’s paying for all of this? That’s what I want to know.”
“I don’t know,” Esther said with a shrug, although she felt pretty certain that Mr. Mendel was, even though he denied it. It didn’t matter. She had gone to her first lesson and had loved it.
Peter still wasn’t enthusiastic about joining the baseball team and had refused to even consider it until Mr. Mendel had coaxed him. “Go for one time, Peter. If you do not like it, you do not have to continue. But who knows? You might have a good time.” Peter would try it for the first time on Wednesday.
Esther remembered thinking that this would be a terrible summer, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all, even if she couldn’t spend much time with Jacky. The only sad part had been when Woofer ran away. Peter looked a hundred years old every time he walked past the empty dog dish in the kitchen. Esther wished Grandma would put the dish away so it wouldn’t remind them that Woofer was gone. Penny was the only one who had refused to give up. Every afternoon when she arrived from work to take them home, she would walk through the neighborhood one more time calling Woofer’s name. They had made “lost dog” posters and given them to all of their neighbors. So far no one had seen Woofer. Good news and bad news
always seemed to happen together.
Once again, Esther remembered her piano lesson and gathered up her courage to ask something very important. She fanned her grandmother a little harder with the cardboard as she did so, drying the wisps of white hair that had stuck to her forehead.
“Um . . . Grandma? I’m going to need to practice the piano during the day this summer, and since I’ll be here, not at home . . . well, Penny talked to her parents about borrowing their piano. She says it’s just gathering dust next door in their living room. They got it years and years ago for Penny’s sister, Hazel, to play.”
Grandma gave a little frown, as if she didn’t understand what Esther was leading up to. “Anyway, they’re willing to let me use it for practice, but they don’t want me to play it over there and disturb their peace and quiet. Could we please, please bring it over here to your house? Peter and I will help you make room for it. Please?”
“A piano? In here? . . . Where in the world would we put it?”
“I’ll go through the stuff in your boxes with you and help you decide if you really need everything or not.”
“Of course I need everything.”
Esther saw the fear in her grandmother’s eyes and knew that physically moving the boxes would be easy compared to coaxing Grandma to change her habits after all these years. She was obsessed with this junk, even though half of it consisted of stacks of old newspapers. Then Esther remembered her own obsession with newspapers and winced. She had filled three large scrapbooks with clippings about the war before her lessons at the conservatory began occupying her mind.
“If we just got rid of a few things, Grandma, I know we could make enough room for the piano. It’s a very small upright.” She stopped fanning and went to the pile closest to Grandma’s chair. “We could start with these old newspapers. You’re done with them, aren’t you?” They were yellow with age and at least five years old, judging by the date on the top one.