Albany Park (11 page)

“You don’t get it, do you?” Ben laughed, taking off his jacket and tossing it over a dining room chair as he took his newspaper into the parlor.

Molly picked up the jacket and draped it over her arm, at the same time brushing off the rose colored seat fabric.

“Please honey, don’t mess up our beautiful walnut dining chairs,” she said adding, “What don’t I get?”

Smiling, he looked up from his paper. “You know I take in a lot of cash at the restaurant. If I don’t show it all on my books, I don’t have to declare it on my taxes.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize,” she answered, creasing her forehead, trying to figure out what he meant. “But what about the painter, I don’t understand.”

“Look, baby, Sol wanted two hundred and seventy dollars to do our job, but when I told him I would pay in cash, the
greener
picked up on it right away and changed his price to two-thirty-five. Now do you get it?”

“The
greener?”
she asked, crunching her face.

“You don’t know what a
greener
is? Oh my God, What kind of Jewish girl did I marry?” he laughed. “You know, a greenhorn
,
someone that just got off the boat from the old country.”

She placed the folded jacket carefully on the couch and leaned over him in the chair, kissing his ear and whispering sexily, “Oy, what a smart guy I married.”

Getting up, he dropped the newspaper and kissed her, at the same time playfully grabbing a handful of her behind. She slapped at his hand. “Don’t get any ideas, dinner will be ready soon and I know you don’t want overcooked pot roast and potatoes. Go read your newspaper.”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he groaned.

She picked up the jacket, quickly retreating to hang it in the bedroom closet, and returned to the kitchen.

Still grinning, he straightened the white doilies on the arms of the new green velour easy chair before settling in to read. “Where’s the baby?” he yelled into the kitchen. “Don’t I even get a kiss hello?”

“She’s here in her high chair,” he heard her shout. “If you want a kiss, come in here.”

Busy lighting a cigar, he didn’t answer, just smiled and rattled open the paper to the sports section.

All went well until 1930, a year into the Great Depression that was sweeping the country. It was a difficult time for the Siegals. For the first time in their marriage, they struggled to pay the rent and meet their bills. Business at the restaurant had fallen off considerably. In January that year, while Molly was pregnant with Shirley, Ben let the cook go and took over the kitchen himself. It didn’t help much. He was still falling behind on his loan payments to Mike O’Hara, Tim’s brother, from whom he’d borrowed money to keep the business going.

Molly, almost ready to deliver her new baby, cried when Ben came home late on a Friday evening, his tie undone and smelling of liquor. Ignoring her tears, he poured a scotch. Walking into the living room, he turned off the radio and turned to her as he sipped on the drink and sat down.

“We gottta talk,” he said slurring his words slightly.

Molly brushed away a tear and turned to look at him.

“You gotta stop goin’ to the beauty shop and I want you to fire Stella. We don’t need that Polack to clean and iron here every week.”

“Oh Ben,” she wailed, “it’s only a few dollars. “And how ‘bout you? Maybe you should stop with the cards and booze. Look at you, you’re drunk and where have you been till all hours of the night?”

Downing his drink, he got up a in a huff, and poured another.

“At least I can eat something decent at the restaurant. Who wants to come home for dinner when all you do is complain?”

“For cryin out loud,” she said, wrapping her arms around her large belly, “whadda ya’ expect me to do? I’m barely able to put food on the table with the few lousy bucks you give me each week and you didn’t leave me the five dollars you promised this morning.”

“Take it easy, you know I’m bustin’ my behind trying to work things out. But Mike O’Hara’s goons were in last week lookin’ for money I owed ‘em. One of ‘em smacked me around a little while the other one emptied the cash register and told me he was comin’ back this week for more.”

“Oh Benny,” she cried, “how could you get involved with those guys?.”

Ben gritted his teeth as she sobbed and held her hands over her eyes. Turning, she retreated into the kitchen.

“Don’t run away from me,” he yelled with his fists clenched, leaning on the dining room table. “So what if I have a drink once in awhile? You act like I’m a drunk and gamble our money away. You got no right to get mad. I’ve been workin’ like a dog. Just because things are tight and you can’t go to the beauty parlor or shop for clothes all day, you make it sound like all I do is drink and gamble.”

In the kitchen, she stood slumped over the table, her large stomach dragging her down as she held her head in her hands and wailed. Picking up his jacket, Ben ran out, slamming the door.

They didn’t talk till four days later when he rushed her to Mount Sinai to have the baby. On the way home from the hospital with their new baby, he rubbed the back of his hand over his nose and nervously shifted around as he drove. Clearing his throat he spoke up. “I don’t know how to tell you, Molly, but we’re just about outta money. I owe everybody—all my suppliers, the employees and the landlord at the restaurant.” Molly listened quietly, rocking and fussing with Shirley.

“Besides them, we owe on the electric and gas and the rent is three months overdue at the apartment.”

The soft rumble of the car and street noises seemed loud as he hesitated before continuing. “I’ve borrowed on my life insurance and owe my younger brother a hundred bucks.”

Molly drew her lips in tightly trying to stifle a shudder as she cuddled Shirley. “My God Ben, a hundred bucks! That’s over two month’s rent! How could you?” She nestled Shirley in the crook of her arm and looked up. Maybe we should move in with my folks back on the west side. I can ask ‘em.”

“No, I don’t wanna do that,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Business picks up as soon as the summer is over and the government has got to do something. If not, Hoover and the Republicans are gonna lose big in 1932.”

“Benny,” she whimpered quietly, rocking back and forth with the baby. “Are you sure it’s the business or is it booze and gambling?”

“Aw c’mon, do we have to start on that again? You know I’m careful.”

She didn’t respond. Nor did she look at him. Tucking in her lower lip, she stifled a sob.

“Ben,” she said looking straight ahead. “I’ve heard that before and I’m sick of seeing you come home smelling of booze and looking like hell. I know you work hard, but that’s no excuse.”

“Look, I’m killing myself for you and the girls,” he said raising his voice. “It’s not easy makin’ enough these days; so what if I have drink, or place a bet once in awhile?”

“Oh Benny, don’t lie, I know how you are.”

Raising her voice, she turned toward him, “I haven’t spent an extra nickel for months. I haven’t had a new dress or anything for over a year. And I’ve been doing the laundry besides cooking and cleaning. Plus now I gotta take care of two kids. So I’m doin’ my share, and I don’t need you coming home smelling of booze after one of your poker games.”

“You got no complaints.” He hissed. “Ever since we got married, I treated you like a princess, while you were spendin’ money on who knows what. So lay off. Everybody’s havin’ a tough time now, but goddamn it,” he started to yell. “I don’t need aggravation from you.”

“Why don’t you just drop me and the baby off at my folks’ house? Doris is already there and right now I don’t want to be with you.”.

Sighing after a deep breath, he went on in a softer voice. “I think we can make it, if we hold on a little longer.”

“Yeah, how?” she said, staring straight ahead with tears running down her cheeks.

“Look, I have an idea. Maybe I can work for Tim O’Hara booking’ some bets or get a punch board and sell chances on it. I also been thinking I could stay open for dinner. If I can pick up another twenty dollars a day, I can make about fifteen dollars a week more.”

They rode in silence for a few blocks as she tried not to cry. Reaching in her purse for a handkerchief, she wiped her eyes.

Coughing softly, she looked at him.

“How about I hire someone to take care of the house work and help you at the restaurant? You could take the streetcar down to work and I could drive down later with the kids and help out. I’ll be able to keep an eye on Doris and the baby will nap.”

Clenching his teeth, his face turned red as he started to mumble something she couldn’t hear. She held Shirley and looked away.

He put his hand on her arm. “You would do that for us?”

“Of course,” she said.

He stared ahead, concentrating on his driving as a long sigh escaped his lips and he shook his head. “Let’s not talk about it now; I don’t want you to have to do that. I just want you to know that I’m sorry, but somehow I’m gonna work things out.

“How ‘bout we just pick up Doris at your mother’s place and go right home. I’ll get Doris and if your Ma wants to see the baby, she can come down to the car.”

“Yeah, okay,” she sighed. “I think you’re right, let’s do that and go home.”

A week later, Ben cornered Tim O’Hara sitting in his regular booth at Molly’s.

Grabbing a cup of coffee he walked over, “Can we talk?”

Looking up, Tim pushed aside his newspaper and stuffed out a cigarette. “Benny, what’s goin’ on?” he whispered hoarsely.

Sighing as he sat down, Ben answered in a soft voice, “I’m havin’ a tough time and I’m almost tapped out.”

“No shit, sorry to hear that,”

“I just need a break or two and I think I can make it.”

“Yeah, so whadda ya want from me?”

“Look Tim, I know you know your way around and I been thinking if you could help me make the right connections, I could serve liquor at lunch. I’m sure business would pick up.”

Leaning back, O’Hara pushed his ever-present derby back on his head and perked up. “Good idea; you’re close enough to the Loop to get a lotta new customers.”

Ben looked down and began wiping his hands on his apron. “I figured you might know somebody who could help me. I never done anything like this, but I know it’s important to get the right source or I’ll get shut down.”

Tim leaned in and spoke just above a whisper. “Look, you know I can help. My older brother Mike is the right guy. I know you done some business with him. Well, Mike works for Murray Humphreys, and I can ask him. But remember, this is between you and me. Don’t mention it to anyone else, including your wife. Mike is very careful, but I can tell you if you do business with him, you won’t be bothered by anyone.”

Leaning back, Tim straightened his tie and lit another cigarette, letting Ben think about what he had said.

Ben shook his head and gritted his teeth sighing, “That’s what I’m worried about. I don’t know who to trust. Mike’s guys play rough and it took me a long time to get square with him. And what about the cops, how will I deal with them?”

O’Hara smiled. “Benny, you know me, and don’t worry, everything in this ward is taken care of.”

“Whatta you mean?”

“Look, as long as you buy from Mike’s guys, you don’t have to worry. In fact, some of the cops will probably start comin’ here for lunch which won’t hurt either.”

“Do you think I can do it and still make some money?”

Smiling broadly, Tim chuckled, “Don’t be a schmuck Ben, everybody with brains is doin’ it. How do you think I survive? I couldn’t last for a week booking bets without their help.”

Ben’s frown relaxed, “Well, I sure could use the dough, but what if it doesn’t work out?”

“Don’t worry, if you’re helping Mike, he’ll take care of it and pass the word around. You’ll see, business will pick up.”

Finishing his coffee, Ben got up and Tim grabbed his hand. “Don’t worry Ben, I’ll talk to Mike.”

Later that same day, Ben and the dining room waiter got into it.

“What the hell is going on here, that’s the second order you dropped today,” yelled Ben from the kitchen, after hearing the loud crash. Charging out to see the mess, he saw the waiter on his knees picking up the dishes and food, while the customer, a regular, was standing wiping off his suit coat.

Helping the man with a clean napkin, Ben wiped his sleeve and took him to another table.

“Sorry about that, gimme a minute, I’ll get you a new sandwich, on the house.”

A few minutes later Ben returned, serving the order himself. “Hope I didn’t make you late for anything.”

“No, everything’s okay,”

Back in the kitchen, he pulled the waiter aside. “Goddammit, you’re drunk again. How many times do I have to catch you? Enough is enough, now get the hell outta here and don’t come back. I’m tired of this crap.”

“Look Ben, I’m sorry. Please, I need the job,” the man pleaded.

“Get out. I warned you, now I mean it, get out.”

Mumbling the waiter, cursed and spit on the floor as he shuffled out slamming the door.

At four o’clock, Ben was getting ready to close up for the day. The dishwasher had finished mopping the floor and was leaving. Locking the door behind him, Ben was making sure everything was shut down before he left. A woman knocked on the glass.

“Ben, can I talk to you?” she asked, her eyes staring sorrowfully at him as she waited for an answer.

Standing behind the half-open door, he hesitated. “We’re closed,” he said, recognizing her as a customer that had come in a few times for coffee, but not remembering her name.

“Please, Ben, I need a job.”

“Well I don’t need anyone now.”

“I saw you fire that drunk today,” she said quickly.

“Yeah, but you can’t do that job. I only have waiters.”

“Please Ben, I can do that. I’m really a hard worker and I’ve done waitress work before.”

Remembering her name, he opened the door wider, “Look, Phyllis, I know this is not a high-class place, but most of my customers are guys. I don’t think they would take to a woman doin’ this kinda work.

She walked a few steps in and he closed the door behind her.