Part 34 (1/2)
”Nothing, deary. It's on me.”
”Uh, uh! It's your engagement celebration, I'm doing the treating!” She opened the jar, removed several bills, and looked at them. ”I might as well spend his money while I still have it,” she reflected. ”How much?”
”Oh, I don't know. How much is there?”
Rachel counted. ”Seems there's at least a hundred.”
”That should do.”
They laughed; Rachel hadn't done that in a long time. It felt good. She looked good. The night held promise.
They heard the taxi's horn, gathered their coats, and left. Rachel locked the door behind her, and as she walked toward the cab, she turned around and looked at the grand house. She felt a lump in her throat, and a force drawing her back inside, but she resisted. She was acutely conscious of the symbolism in her actions, a feeling that with each step, she was approaching another chapter of her life.
Rachel and Esther got into the backseat of the cab, and Esther instructed the driver where to take them. ”It's a wonderful little bar on Bleecker Street,” she said to Rachel. ”You'll like it. Nice crowd, not too rowdy.”
Rachel wasn't sure if she would ever ”like” going to a bar, but she had to admit it felt good to be out. ”So, have you told your parents yet?” she asked Esther.
”Heavens no.”
”And when do you plan to?”
”Sometime.”
”Esther!”
”I know, I know. It's just that it's going to cause such a ruckus.”
”Do they know anything?”
”About what?”
”Stephen.”
”You mean, do they know he exists?”
Rachel nodded.
”No, not really.”
”You mean they don't know...”
”Anything. And I'd just as soon keep it that way, if I could. But I can't, can I?”
”I don't see how.”
Esther laughed. ”It is funny when you think about it,” she explained. ”My parents have no idea of the life I live; they're in their own little world. I haven't gone out on a s.h.i.+ddoch date in years, and they don't wonder. Perhaps they don't want to wonder, or maybe they've just given up on me. Who knows? Either way, it should be interesting to see their reaction.”
”Interesting isn't exactly the word that comes to mind.”
”I suppose not.” Esther reflected. ”You know, deary, I was wondering if maybe you could sort of help me out with this.” Devilish.
Rachel couldn't imagine what was coming next. ”Help you? How?”
”Well, to begin with, we will need a rabbi to marry us.”
”Esther, Binny isn't a rabbi yet, and even if he was, I'm sure he would have nothing to do with it. Besides, we're practically separated.”
”Who was talking about Binny? I was talking about a real rabbi.”
Rachel suddenly had a familiar sensation, one she hadn't felt in years. It was the same feeling she had had as a girl whenever Esther schemed. ”You can't be serious,” she said sternly.
Esther turned to look at her. ”Rachel please, if your father would marry us, if he would talk to my father, it might save us all from Armageddon. At least it would save me.”
”Esther, my father's heart is weak enough without all this.”
Esther turned away, disappointed, silent.
”Okay, I'll talk to him.”
Rachel awoke the next morning in a mood she hadn't known in years. It had been a delightful evening. Lots of innocent male attention, even some harmless flirting, and probably a bit too much to drink. All in all, she felt like a woman again.
She looked in the mirror, smiled, and ran her hands over her figure. Still not too bad, she thought.
An image of Esther came to mind. Esther had looked awfully thin last night, but Rachel hadn't wanted to mention it. There had been enough to contend with without getting into all that. And anyway, what difference would it have made? Esther believed she had to stay thin to keep her man and her sanity, and Rachel was far from an expert on either of those topics.
Rachel jumped into the shower, got dressed, and went downstairs to fix herself some breakfast. No sign of Binny. He had been asleep when she'd gotten home, and was already gone when she awoke. She figured he didn't even care where she'd been, and that brought back some of her sadness. But only for a moment. She was too absorbed with Esther's problems to worry about her own.
And what problems they were. Esther's father, Lazar Mandlebaum, was a simple man. He would never understand any of this, just as Rachel's father hadn't understood when she'd told him about college and medical school. And this was worse. A lot worse.
At least Rachel understood. Bravo, Esther, for chasing after the things you knew would make you happy, and shame on me for settling, for allowing myself to end up like this. But enough with feeling sorry for herself; she had work to do. She had to speak with her father.
”h.e.l.lo Mama,” Rachel said.
Hannah Weissman was surprised to find Rachel at her front door. She looked her daughter over. Cherry red fall coat, matching hat, and a sprightly countenance. The old Rachel.
They embraced. Hannah could barely hold back her tears.
”Now, Mama, let's not get melodramatic,” Rachel said.
Hannah didn't respond. She was speechless.
Isaac emerged from the living room, and also began to cry.
”You too, Papa?”
Isaac was embarra.s.sed, but couldn't help himself. His daughter, his beautiful daughter, had returned to life. ”Come, come in!” he said, waving her into the living room.