“I only understand that I love Leah and she loves me.”
“You don’t see that she’s not for you? You have almost nothing in common! You’re at Yale, planning a doctorate; she works in a dress shop. She’s ambitious and a striver; she—”
“You astound me! You, the thoroughgoing democrat, to say anything as snobbish as that!”
“I don’t mean it to be snobbish at all. I mean it only to say that you’re different, and will grow more so with time. Love between you makes no sense, no practical sense at all. The sooner you put it out of your head, the better it will be for you, and for Leah too.” Dan’s voice rose in emphasis. “She’s a manhunter, Freddy.”
“Don’t, Dad. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Oh, but I do! There are things that experience teaches, a man of experience can feel.”
A man of experience … Hennie felt a weighty sigh. As always. Always.
Freddy did not reply. He bent and picked up the dog, set it on his lap, and held it close, sheltering the little sleek thing that rested its chin on his arm while he stroked the loose, wrinkled flesh under its chin.
At last he took a deep breath and spoke.
“I’m sorry you think that way,” he said slowly. “Because we were married just this noon.”
The words seemed to come from far away. Hennie’s mind accepted them doubtfully.
“You were married?” she repeated.
“Yes. At City Hall.” And Freddy swallowed hard, bobbing that vulnerable, always pathetic Adam’s apple. “Don’t be angry … don’t spoil things. Please. It’s our wedding day.”
He looked like a scolded child, limp and defiant. Hennie’s hand went to her mouth again to stop her trembling lips, and she held it there for a moment before she could speak.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” She could hear the wail in her voice.
“You would have argued us out of it, or tried to. So it was just easier this way.”
Dan cleared his throat. “Not to mention a little matter of honor,” he said. He pounded his knees with his fists. “I call it a sneaky way of repaying your mother and me for the trust of a lifetime. I don’t know what you call it, but I call it sneaky and foul.”
“We didn’t mean it to be. If you’ll let me explain—”
“Yes, do. I’d really like to know how you came to make what, I promise you, will turn out to be one of the damnedest mistakes you’ll ever make if you live to be a hundred. To saddle yourself before you’ve even got two feet on the ground—Jesus Christ, I’ve never seen anything more stupid! Damned if I have.”
“I ask you,” Freddy pleaded, “to keep it for some other time. Can you leave us a happy memory of today? Because this is a day we’ll remember all our lives.”
“ ‘Happy memory.’ ‘Happy pair,’ isn’t that the phrase? Where, by the way, is the other half of this happy pair?”
“Leah ran out to get gloves; she lost hers in the cab. Here she is. I hear her now.”
Breathless and pink from running up the stairs, Leah appeared in the doorway. Seeing Dan and Hennie in a frozen tableau, she stopped short.
“Well! I see you’ve heard our news.”
And she stood respectfully, waiting for a sign, and yet with an air of assurance, as if to say: We have done what we wanted and are not afraid.
All that ran instantly through Hennie’s mind as her eyes swept over Leah: the smart lavender suit, a new one, naturally; the slender ankles in silk stockings, the lace jabot, the waist-length pearls, knotted and worn with dash as if they were Orientals; the pert feather standing straight on the brim of the lavender hat. So Leah smiled and waited.
“Aren’t you going to wish us joy?” She appealed at last to Hennie, ignoring Dan.
A second thought then flashed through Hennie’s mind. That fear, so many times examined and denied, that her son would find his way to the war, that fear she had never been able to put to rest—that was over now! Married, he was safe! Leah and he would stay on here together. He’d finish his schooling and go to work; they’d have a baby. This marriage would prove to be a good thing, after all, another knot in the cord that bound them as a family. Yes, it was! Dan would get used to it. Swiftly her thoughts ran, coalescing with her quick optimism, her usual adaptability. And she took Leah into her arms.
“Of course we wish you joy! Yes, yes. I’m disappointed that you’ve done it this way, but I wish you joy!”
“Married on Saturday, too, and at City Hall,” Dan said furiously. “That part doesn’t bother me, but you know how your mother feels. You could have had a rabbi, at least, and waited till the Sabbath was over. You didn’t have to add insult to injury.”
Leah said quickly, “I know. I feel that way about it, too, and we will have a religious ceremony later. But today, there just wasn’t enough time.…”
Dan jumped on that.
“What do you mean, not enough time?”
Leah turned to Freddy. “You haven’t told them?”
“No, I was—” He still held the little wriggling dog, pressing it to him as if it were a protective garment. “No, I—”
Leah interrupted. “He dreads telling you. Freddy has enlisted in the British army. He only has a week. That’s why we had to be married in a hurry.”
The beaded fringe on the lamp shade in the parlor danced in front of Hennie’s eyes. Her strength ebbed out, and she sank down onto a kitchen chair. In a whirl of vertigo, she saw Dan’s open mouth, dark as a cave; his face was dark, the room was dark, and it whirled. She put her head down on the table.
A hand was laid on her head and she heard Freddy’s voice above her.
“Don’t cry, Mother. It’s something I had to do. You always say people have to act on their principles, or else their principles are worthless.”
She gave a long sigh.
“It’s sad that our principles aren’t the same, but that’s how it is, and all I ask is that you respect mine as I have always respected yours.”
Her son’s large warm hand cupped her head. It was the hand she had taught to guide a spoon, that had gripped hers on the first day of school, that had charmed her as it rippled over the keyboard.
She opened her eyes and raised her head. The commonplace, familiar room with its four occupants, who had taken so many hundreds of meals here at this table, in front of this stove, assumed now a poignant gravity and would be remembered exactly as it was, with the red gingham curtains and the iron soup pot; with Freddy’s white, beseeching face and Dan in his shirt-sleeves, caught between fury and sorrow, grown ten years older; with Leah, composed in her new status and stronger than any of them.
“Oh, Freddy, what have you done?” Hennie cried.
One wrings one’s hands. That’s what they say in books, and it’s true. One clasps them and wrings them.
“Oh, Freddy, what have you done?”
“Mother, I’ve done right. This war is the last one. After this will come peace and freedom for all the world. I know I’ve done right.”
With this new outrage, Dan jumped to his feet. “You’ve quit college! Thrown your education away! You couldn’t have waited a year before going off to play the hero?”
“I’ll make up the year when I come back. That’s no problem.”
Dan turned on Leah.
“And you—is it you who’s behind this? You who encouraged this—this fool, who’s throwing himself away, throwing his life out the window?” His voice roughened and broke.
“No, Dan, that isn’t fair!” Hennie cried, before Leah could answer. “You know how Freddy’s felt about the war since it began. It’s not fair to blame Leah for his wild ideas.”
“All right, I’ll take it back. Christ, I don’t know what I’m saying!” Dan pounded his head. “I’m trying to find out whether I’m asleep and having a nightmare … I guess I’m awake.”
Leah said softly, “You don’t agree with Freddy’s point of view, but I should think you might be proud of his courage, all the same.”
r />
Hennie looked at her son. He didn’t age. She saw the child standing there, the slight fair child with the lake-blue eyes. Going off now, perhaps to die, and for nothing. She had given all her energy, since long before this war had begun, since she had been an adult and old enough to think about such things, to opposite tenets. Through the force of her conviction she had even sometimes converted strangers; but she—and Dan too—had failed with their son, leaving on him no mark of those convictions.
“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, and began to cry.
Dan put his arms around her.
“Look what you’ve done to your mother,” he shouted. “And you, Leah, what you’ve done to this woman who rescued you, fought for you, gave you her heart and soul! God damn it, you ought to be cringing in shame, both of you!”
“No, Dan, don’t,” Hennie protested. “We can’t undo. We have to think, have to go forward. Can’t undo.”
“If you don’t want me to come back here,” Leah said, “I have some friends where I work. I can live with them after Freddy goes.”
How far she’s come, the little waif! Trudging in the January wind with her mother, I promised to care for her and I have. Now she’s my daughter, who loves my son, and will send him away after they’ve had a week together. Crazy. The whole thing is crazy.
Hennie got up and took Leah in her arms again. “Do whatever you want. This is your home, if you want it. Surely you know that.”
Suddenly Leah’s voice filled with tears. “Whatever Freddy says. And if Dan wants me, I’ll stay.”
“I would feel better if I could know she was here with you,” Freddy said.
“You’re my son’s wife,” Dan told Leah stiffly. “And as such, you’re welcome here. So it’s settled.” Then his voice broke. “As much as it can be.”
“We’re going away for a few days,” Freddy said. “Uncle Alfie’s offered to let us stay at Laurel Hill. They’re not using it this week.”
“You mean to tell me Alfie knew about this?” Dan demanded.
“Only this morning. Paul asked him whether we could come. Paul’s going to drive us there.”
“Paul knew about it? All this thing was done behind our backs? Everyone knew but your father and mother?”
“Only this morning. Don’t be angry at them, it’s not their fault. I made them promise not to tell and—and it wouldn’t have mattered, because we’d have done it anyway, and Paul knew that. Alfie knew it too.”
“So,” Dan said. “So.”
And again that solemn silence fell; like a gray pall it lay over the little kitchen and the four who stood now in a circle, as people stand who wait for a way to break the circle, to say the final words and depart.
Leah spoke first. “It’s half past four. We told Paul we’d be waiting downstairs.”
The dachshund whimpered and she picked him up.
“He’ll miss me. But I’ll be back, Strudel. You’ll take care of him, Hennie?”
“Of course.”
Freddy picked up the bags.
“We’ll be back on Friday, so we’ll say good-bye then. We won’t say it now.”
Dan opened the door. “No. Just—just be well,” he said.
When he closed the door, he laid his forehead against it. Hennie watched the quivering of his shoulders and heard the footsteps going down the stairs; she heard the noise of a motor starting up in the street, before the grave silence surged back.
“It won’t last,” Dan said. Numb and rigid, they had been awake, talking in bed through most of the night. “He’ll never satisfy her.”
“In what way?”
“She’s too strong for him. She’ll tug him and push him till he falls.”
“Leah’s a good girl.”
It was the thousandth time she had said it and she was tired of saying it. Anyway, the marriage wasn’t the uppermost thing. Freddy in uniform was what Hennie saw, kind, gentle Freddy with a gun. And she saw those terrible photographs of the trenches, devastated as a moonscape; no, far worse, for though the moon might be pitted and without trees, surely it was not stained with blood. What was the marriage compared with that?
Dan spoke bitterly into the dark. “She can wrap him around her little finger, and she will. Mark my words.”
“They love each other, Dan, and must have for a long, long time. You were right when you said it. I didn’t see it.”
“There are many things you don’t see. I always tell you that.”
She thought, And now my mother will be able, too, to say “I told you so.” And I shall answer, “You thought I was all wrong to marry Dan, too, didn’t you?” No, bless you, Leah and Freddy; may he come home safely and may you be good to one another. I have faith that you will. It’s strange, she thought, the mother of the boy is always said to believe that no girl’s good enough for him, but I don’t feel that way; I do believe that Leah will be good for him; her strength will be good for him.
She sighed. “Let us only hope they’ll be as happy as we’ve been,” and moved closer to Dan.
He drew her head to his shoulder. “Yes. But the goddamned war—”
“Darling, there’s nothing we can do now. Except hope, that’s all we can do. And keep the peace of this house.… Poor little Leah! Poor girl! What a way to begin a marriage!”
She thought: And our marriage didn’t begin so auspiciously, either.
“Poor Leah, nothing. Poor Hennie,” Dan grumbled.
“Not poor, as long as I have you. Hold me, Dan, I’m so tired. I think I can fall asleep now.”
At Laurel Hill the peepers were loud in proclamation of spring. Wrapped in sweaters against the cool night, Paul, Freddy, and Leah sat on the terrace after a late supper.
“Listen to their music! What a wonderful night!” Leah exclaimed. “It’s a pity Mimi won’t come out.”
“It’s too chilly for her,” Paul said. “She’s too susceptible to colds.” He stood up. “I’m going in too. And we’re driving back to the city first thing in the morning. We’ll be very quiet and not wake you.”
“You needn’t leave because of us,” Freddy said.
“It’s your honeymoon. You surely don’t need our company.”
“This house is enormous,” Leah assured him. “We can rattle around in it without even seeing each other unless we want to.”
She got up and walked to the edge of the terrace. “Look at the stars! The glitter’s not cold at all. It seems to burn. Look!” she cried suddenly. “What’s that?”
Above the hill and between the trees, the sky, in the splitting of a second, had erupted in a dazzle of fire.
“It’s a meteor shower!” exclaimed Freddy.
The three ran down to the wall. The light burst; it raced like rain. Awed into silence, they stood before the spectacle of such miraculous power. And in a few more seconds it was over.
“What was it?” Leah cried. “What was it?”
“Nothing to be afraid of.”
In the half-light, Paul could see Freddy’s smile and his protective arm around the girl.
“They’re balls of ice,” Freddy told her. “They go zipping through the universe a hundred times faster than a bullet.”
“I’ve never heard of anything like that! And you always say you don’t know anything about science.”
“I don’t, really. I’ve just picked up a little stuff here and there because of my father. He used to take me out on the fire escape and show me the stars. A little of it stuck in my head, that’s all.”
Leah stretched her hand out from the shadow.
“Light from a star a million miles away, and it lies on my finger,” adding, “We really don’t know anything, do we?”
Stars, stars, lovers and stars! Paul thought. Vaguely he remembered some poem written by an ancient Roman about love and stars and eternity, how after centuries lovers would look at the stars as the poet was doing. He turned away and went back into the house; they did not even know that he had gone.
Wha
t had Leah said? That we don’t know anything? No, surely we don’t, or not very much, when all’s said and done. Paul hadn’t expected sensitivity in Leah; she’d seemed too clever and too worldly, but that only proved one must be careful of making judgments. Still, he suspected, she didn’t have an awful lot of softness! Maybe she’d be a balance for Freddy, who had too much of it.
Good Lord! What had possessed him? Poor boy, going off to war when he needn’t go! Was it because of that fellow Gerald, a compulsion to match his heroism? Or to show his father—of whose bravery at that long-ago fire he must have heard uncountable times—that he also could be brave? Perhaps some unconscious need to prove his own masculinity to himself? It was all too complicated; some of those psychology fellows in Vienna would have more understanding of it. Or maybe they wouldn’t. One thing was sure, though; Freddy was a romantic, and God alone knew what it would bring him if he survived. He might end up exploring Arabia or, more likely, end up teaching the classics in some conservative private school, feeling sorry for himself for having been born a century too late.
And Leah—what had possessed her? Drama, perhaps? He’d be quite stunning in uniform with that angelic blond head in a military cap. It was said that uniforms were aphrodisiacs for women.
No, that was cruel, she was too intelligent for that. She wanted him, that’s all. She loved him, or thought she did, which was the same thing—and had taken him while she could. There were millions of women like her, poor young things. If one could only know what lay ahead for them all! And for us all …
More than a hundred Americans lost on the Lusitania just a week ago. And he remembered dancing on that floating pleasure palace, eating caviar while the music played at dinner; or reading on deck, looking up from the book to watch the wake cut through the gray Atlantic as they sped. Now it lay at the cold, still bottom of the sea. Wilson says he won’t be stampeded into war, but one wonders.
Still, we may keep out …
He trod the stairs softly to the bedroom, past Alfie’s hideous still lifes of rotund fruit and dead birds, with their piteous open dead eyes and their broken wings. Mimi was already asleep; her needlepoint, a tidy wreath of muted flowers on a tan background, had fallen to the floor next to the bed, and he picked it up.