Family Secrets (27 page)

Herman Winsor took a cabana on the beach near the one Adam Saffron rented. When Lavinia and Jonah and Paris, Melissa and Lazarus and Everett, the whole damn mishpuchah, were there, he seldom stayed for more than a moment to say hello. It was too hard to get any time alone with Rosemary when she was surrounded by her family. He would sit outside his own cabana, under the awning, and play cards with his friends, chewing on his cigar, dressed in a cool white suit. Herman Winsor would never appear on the beach in a bathing suit. He was not that big a fool. Of course, he confined his cabana visits to weekends, as during the week he had his real estate interests to attend to.

Adam would sit outside his cabana under the awning, watching the passing parade and being greeted by friends. He enjoyed watching his family having fun on the beach. Everett, skinny and white, would be running around because his mother had commanded him to, although he would have much preferred staying in the house tinkering with some of his junk. Melissa and Etta, who seemed to hit it off quite well, would sit in the shade together, inside the cabana, for they both had fair skin and dreaded the Florida sun. Lazarus would be standing near the water’s edge, facing the sun, timing his sunbath: ten minutes facing, then ten minutes sideways, then turn with the back to the sun for ten minutes, then ten minutes on the other side. He never sat down, he never walked, he never swam, and he never seemed to enjoy his carefully timed sunbath either. He did it because it was good for him; the sun had vitamin D. As soon as he had finished his sunbath Lazarus would go into the cabana, take a shower (first hot with soap, then cold for the circulation), and dress. He would sit in the shade and read his medical journals. After lunch and a rest he would get back into his bathing suit and take his afternoon sunbath, the same as his morning sunbath.

Jonah had taught Paris to swim and they would spend a lot of time in the water. Lavinia did not trust this ocean any more than the one on Long Island—hadn’t someone said there was an invasion of man o’wars, and they could sting and kill you?—and she spent her time in the shade or running along the water’s edge warning her husband and child of their imminent injury. She would never say death. God forbid, bite your tongue, spit. “Watch out for the man o’war!” she would shriek. “Don’t step on a jellyfish!”

Paris was beginning to dislike swimming. She didn’t like jellyfish. Everett had showed her a man o’war once, on the sand near the water, and it was blue and looked scary. It looked like a big glob, but the thing that stung you came out, wham! It was probably like a long needle with electric sparks.

“Jonah! Be careful of the undertow!” Lavinia was standing carefully away from the foaming tide. Paris was scared of the undertow. She didn’t like to get water in her eyes either because it stung. If the undertow got you it carried you right out to the open sea and no one could save you. You drowned.

“Jonah! Don’t let Paris get tired! Don’t let Paris get cold! See if she’s cold. She looks cold to me. That’s enough now.”

They would go back to the cabana. Wash off the salt, dry off with a clean towel, get dressed in a dry suit, eat lunch. You had to wait an hour and a half after lunch before you went into the water again or you would get a cramp and drown. If you even ate a banana, nothing else, you could get a cramp and drown. Paris would go in back of the cabana after lunch, to the place where the cabana stuck up on stilts in the sand, and throw up. Then she would bury it in the sand with her foot. She had been throwing up a lot since they came to Miami Beach. She thought it might be the pickle she ate with her hamburger the first day they came. Her mother said never to eat pickles, but she had anyway. Eventually, in a couple of weeks, it would have to go away. Nothing could stay plugged there forever, even a pickle.

When the two families went back to Brooklyn the cabana was peaceful. Etta often did not bother to come, relieved now of her job as hostess, and she preferred to stay in the cool house, reading her murder mysteries, arranging flowers, planning the menus with Henny, knitting. She also liked to go shopping, so the only time she appeared at the cabana was on Sunday for lunch, if she could not persuade Adam to have a nice lunch at home. Bagels and lox, Adam! Nice fresh smoked nova, mmmm! Sturgeon! Whitefish, Adam. You can’t have that in the sun.

Hazel enjoyed the cabana on weekends because there was so much to watch. All those people doing things. She would busy herself with her knitting or her crossword puzzles.

When Herman Winsor came to his cabana on weekends and looked eagerly toward Adam Saffron’s cabana to see who was there and who was missing, he was now pleased to see that it was nearly deserted: only Hazel, Adam with a friend playing pinochle, and his Rosemary in a white bathing suit. Herman went over to her.

“Good morning, Rosemary.”

“Morning.”

Herman reached into the pocket of his white jacket and took out a hundred-dollar bill. “Look what I have for you, Rosemary.” He handed it to her.

She looked at it, holding it in the tips of her fingers as if it were contaminated. What kind of a crazy man gave a nice girl money?

“Look at it!” Herman crowed. “Don’t you see anything different?”

She looked at it more carefully. “No.”

“Look at the picture!”

There in the center, instead of the picture of whoever was on a hundred-dollar bill, was a picture of Herman Winsor.

“Very cute,” Rosemary said coolly.

Herman roared with pleased laughter. Hazel looked up. “Watcha got?” Hazel asked.

Herman strode over and handed her one too, grandly. “Here’s a hundred-dollar bill with my picture on it, Harriet.”

“Hazel,” Hazel said. She scrutinized the bill. Then she looked up at Herman Winsor. It certainly did have his picture on it. He must be a very important man. She was very impressed.

“Hazel,” he corrected himself. “You may keep it. But don’t try to spend it, ha ha.”

“I wouldn’t,” Hazel said. She put the hundred-dollar bill into her purse. She had no idea it was fake. But she certainly wouldn’t dream of spending a bill with the picture on it of someone she knew. That would be a dumb thing to do. Then you wouldn’t have it any more.

Herman pulled a chair up to Rosemary’s. “Did anyone tell you, Rosemary, that you look like Katharine Hepburn?”

She looked at him. What a slush artist!

“Why, thank you, Herman,” she said sweetly. “And did anyone ever tell you that you look like Spencer Tracy?”

He was beaming, the jerk! He believed her!

“Thank you, Rosemary,” Herman said. She had made him a very happy man. Victory was near at hand, he felt it, and it was time for him to make his master move.

That Monday morning Herman Winsor telephoned Adam Saffron at his office and made an appointment to come in to see him.

“Yes, Herman?” Adam said pleasantly. “What can I do for you?” He pushed the large ashtray toward Herman, who was puffing on a brand-new cigar from his latest shipment. They were both comfortably seated, Adam behind his large desk, Herman in the chair in front of it. Adam’s office had wood-paneled walls and thick, pale-colored carpets. The prints on the walls were all guaranteed good.

“We know each other in business and socially,” Herman began. “You know me, I know you. No mystery. We’re friends, right?” Adam nodded. “So, I’ll get right to the point,” Herman said. “I want to marry Rosemary.”

Adam put his fingertips together and studied them for a moment. He nodded. “Mmm. There is, however, a problem. I could never let my youngest daughter get married while her older sister is still unmarried.”

Oh yes, the other one. Herman could understand Adam’s feeling, for it was the old, traditional way, and he himself was at heart, a traditionalist. “She has any prospects?” he asked.

Adam shook his head. “None that I would approve of.”

“Ah.”

“Now, you, Herman, are a prospect I would approve of.”

Hazel. He had never considered Hazel. He thought about her now. She wasn’t Rosemary, but she was Adam Saffron’s daughter.

“Hazel has a good soul and a kind nature,” Adam said. “She has a good disposition. She’s the sort of woman who would respect her husband and cater to him. He would be the boss in the house.”

“I like that,” Herman said.

“She has been strictly brought up and because of that is unworldly.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Herman said.

“All my daughters are equal to me,” Adam said. “Equal. I never favor one above the other.”

Herman knew what that meant: they all shared alike. “As it should be,” he said.

“Personally, in my opinion, Herman, I think Hazel would be a better wife for you than Rosemary. Hazel is more settled; she would enjoy your kind of social life, the dinners and charity affairs and so on. Rosemary is still a bit giddy.”

Yes, Herman thought, Hazel had a dignified air about her. She looked more like the wives of his friends than Rosemary did. That was why he had been attracted to Rosemary. On the other hand, if he couldn’t have Rosemary …

“I wouldn’t want you to make a snap decision,” Adam went on. “You think about it. Take your time. We’re going back to New York next week.”

Herman nodded and rose. “A marriage, that takes some serious thought.”

“Of course.”

“I suppose it would be best if we decide everything before you go back north.”

“It would seem sensible,” Adam said calmly.

“May I call Hazel tonight for a date?”

“Why not?”

“Thank you for your time.”

“I’m always at the service of a friend,” Adam said.

So that night Herman called Hazel, who was surprised and thrilled at his unexpected attention. He invited her to a charity affair and she accepted with pleasure. Adam and Etta decided which of her many pretty dresses would be most suitable, and Hazel spent the afternoon at Etta’s favorite beauty parlor. She even had a manicure. Herman called for her in his big new car, which Hazel admired. Rosemary was nowhere to be seen. The charity affair was held in a big hotel, as they usually were, and Herman knew everybody there. He left Hazel sitting docilely at their table while he table-hopped, greeting all the people it was important to greet, and then it was time for the speeches. After the speeches were over it was late, so Herman took Hazel home, and she thanked him for the nice time. Altogether they had not said more than ten sentences to each other, but they were both pleased.

The next day Herman telephoned Hazel and asked if he could come over to see her in the evening, and when he got there he asked her to marry him. Adam had already told her that Herman was interested in her, and that if anything serious came of it he would be glad to give his permission, so Hazel accepted happily. Cute, famous Herman Winsor wanted to marry her! Wasn’t she lucky?

Before the Saffron family left to go back to Brooklyn, Herman arranged everything with Hazel, which is to say he told her what they would do and she agreed to everything. He would announce their engagement in the New York and Miami papers. They would be married next fall in Miami Beach so that all his friends and business associates could be there. Adam and the rest of the family would have moved back to Miami Beach by then for the winter, so it would be good timing for them all. His rabbi would marry them. They would live in Miami Beach. In the meantime, Hazel would stay in the nice cool North for the summer, while he, noble Herman, would find a suitable big house for them to live in, which he would buy. He would hire the finest decorator to “do” it, and the decorator would mail Hazel samples of the wallpaper and material and paint colors so she could chose the ones she liked best. Everything else would be left to the decorator. Herman would also hire a cook and a maid, although his life style demanded that they go out nearly every night for business purposes and public appearances. Still, Hazel wouldn’t have to lift a finger in the house because Herman would hire the best help.

Herman presented Hazel with a big diamond engagement ring and his photograph. He was unfortunately unable to see her off at the train because he had to be at an important convention that afternoon, but Hazel didn’t mind because she had the ring on her finger, glittering, and his photograph in her purse to take out and admire along with that hundred-dollar bill he had given her at the beach.

Rosemary told everyone that Herman had wanted to marry
her
and that he was marrying Hazel because Papa told him to, but luckily Hazel never found out about that because no one told her.

FOUR

Hazel Saffron’s wedding to Herman Winsor was one of the social high points of the early winter Miami Beach season. Even though both the bride and the groom were a little old for that sort of formal, elaborate wedding, it was the first for each of them and therefore if they wanted it, what was the harm? Hazel wore a long white lace dress; she had insisted on it, and when Lavinia suggested that perhaps a pastel might be more chic, she burst into tears. So it was white, the same dress Hazel had seen long ago on a bride doll and had always secretly wanted. Herman wore a tuxedo and a yarmulke. Some of the younger men were starting to wear top hats instead of skullcaps to their own weddings, but Herman was a traditionalist. Hazel of course agreed with him in whatever he decided.

Adam gave the bride away. There were three hundred guests, and the reception afterward was at the Neptune Palace, in the grand ballroom, which was decorated with thousands of pink and white flowers. The guests were all friends and business contacts of Herman’s and Adam’s, who had made out the guest list together. Nobody asked Hazel if she had any special friends she would like to invite because she didn’t. Her special friends were her sisters. Etta supervised the menu for the reception and saw that the caterers did everything the way it had been done at Laurel Pastures. All the guests raved about the food and the attractive way it was presented, and Hazel kvelled. They were complimenting her, because it was her wedding, wasn’t it? It was a lovely, lovely wedding.

Hazel and Herman spent their honeymoon on a cruise to Havana and five days seeing all the night clubs and gambling. It wasn’t a long honeymoon, but Herman was right in the middle of a new project and couldn’t spare any more time.