In the Unlikely Event (13 page)

Miri had to admit Tewky Purvis was a good dancer, the way he twirled Rusty but never lost control, the way Rusty was able to follow his every move. As far as Miri knew, the only place Rusty danced was in her bedroom, though sometimes she'd turn on the record player in the living room and try to get Miri to be her partner. As a little girl, Miri had loved to jitterbug with her mother, but not anymore.

Miri preferred to watch Steve Osner dancing with Phil Stein's cousin Kathy, who wore a dark-green strapless velvet dress. She laughed a lot, and when she did, her dark eyes sparkled and crinkled up. You could tell Steve was gaga over her. Maybe she was gaga over Steve, too, even though she was a year ahead of him, already a college girl. Miri could recognize love now, or maybe it was attraction she recognized—either way, she knew it when she saw it. She could feel it when it was in the air and it was in the air around Steve Osner and Kathy Stein.

Natalie gave her a nudge. They were sitting on the steps leading up to the kitchen. “See those earrings my mother's wearing?” Corinne was dancing with Dr. O. “Daddy gave them to her for Hanukkah. She let me try them on. She said someday I'll find a husband who'll give me diamond earrings. Then she reminded me for the millionth time, it's just as easy to fall in love with a rich boy as a poor boy, which is interesting, considering Daddy was a poor boy who had to work his way all through school. She said even though some people say diamonds aren't important, they are. I didn't tell her I'm never getting married.”

“Since when?” Miri asked, surprised.

“Since I promised Ruby my career as a dancer would always come first.”

“Do you think you should be making promises to someone who's…” She stopped herself just in time.

“I told you,” Natalie said, annoyed. “She's not
dead
. She's living inside me.”

“But what does that mean?”

Natalie shook her head. “You're not even trying to understand.”

Miri wanted to understand what Natalie was trying to tell her. For all she knew it was possible. Just because she'd never heard of having a dead person living inside you, didn't mean it couldn't happen. She'd read about spirits, about ghosts. Not that she believed they were real. No, she argued with herself, this thing with Natalie was crazy. It was impossible. Natalie was going nuts. Maybe she should tell someone. But Natalie trusted her with her secret. If she told, she'd be betraying her best friend, wouldn't she? Or would she be helping her? Miri wasn't sure. This was a secret she wished she'd never heard.

The conga line zigzagged around the room, everyone laughing as they one, two, three, kicked! Dr. O led the way. Rusty was sandwiched between him and Tewky Purvis. Kathy Stein held on to Tewky's waist, and Steve held hers, followed by Corinne, then Dr. Reiss.

“Come on,” Natalie said, dragging Miri out to join the fun. They broke in between Dr. O and Rusty so that Miri held Natalie's waist and Rusty held hers. Not the way she would have planned it.

Dr. O turned off the jukebox and switched on the radio for the countdown to midnight. Corinne handed out party hats and noise-makers, and as the clock struck midnight corks popped, the guests cheered and everyone started kissing.

Miri watched Steve Osner kissing Kathy Stein, his hands on her naked back. When she and Mason kissed they were almost always wearing winter coats. She tried to imagine how it would feel to have his hands on her naked back. Just that thought was enough to make her legs so weak she had to sit down.

She was grateful her mother wasn't kissing Cousin Tewky or anyone else.

“You don't have to worry,” Natalie said.

“Who's worrying?”

“It's written all over your face.”

“What is?”

“He's not interested in getting married.”

“Suppose he falls for Rusty?”

“I'm telling you, that's not going to happen. So you can relax and wish me a Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year, Nat.”

“Happy New Year, Mir.”

They hugged.

While the Champagne flowed, welcoming in 1952, the guests told one another it was going to be a great year. Miri hoped they were right.

Stewardess Who Perished in Crash Warned Sister

By Henry Ammerman

JAN. 8—A highlight at the CAB hearing yesterday was a report that the stewardess on the C-46 that crashed on Dec. 16 had telephoned her sister just five minutes before the plane took off, telling her that the plane was “unfit to fly.” She said that passengers on the aircraft's trip in from the West Coast suffered because cabin heaters had been inoperative.

Joseph O. Fluet, heading the investigation for the CAB, dismissed this as conjecture. He focused attention on a graphic presentation showing the course and probable altitudes flown by the plane. This had been carefully compiled from eyewitness reports and the locations of parts from the plane that fell to the ground. Experts on the C-46 have been brought in to examine the wreckage, with particular attention to the right engine, which had been streaming smoke.

9

Kathy

At Syracuse, Kathy Stein told her roommate, Jane Krasner, that she'd met someone over the holidays. “And I think…well, I really liked him.”

They were on their beds with the pink and red plaid spreads they'd bought during orientation week on sale at Dey Brothers. They'd become friends right away, decorating their tiny dorm room,
figuring out how to share the only closet and the personal items they'd brought from home—Kathy's clock radio, Jane's foldable clothes dryer. Every night Jane diligently hand-washed her heavy wool socks in Woolite along with her bra and underpants and hung them on her wooden clothes dryer. Kathy collected her laundry for a week before using the washing machine in the basement of their dorm. Now, with finals coming up, they were studying, Kathy wrapped in the hand-knitted afghan her mother had made for her, Jane in her flannel robe.

“That was fast,” Jane said. “Where does he go to school?”

“Okay, promise not to laugh?”

“Promise.”

“He's a senior in high school but he's coming to Syracuse next year, assuming he gets in.”

Jane just looked at her.

“He's mature for his age. Actually, we're just a few months apart because he has a winter birthday and mine is November. So I want to get home for break after finals to see him again.”

“You better make your reservations now.”

“Come with me. I'll introduce you to my cousin Phil. He's Steve's best friend. We'll have fun.”

“Where am I supposed to get the money to fly?”

“I'll bet my dad would spring for your ticket,” Kathy said. Her father was an orthopedic surgeon.

“Don't do that. Don't ask your dad to pay for me. I can take the bus.”

“But that would take all day, and another day getting back.”

“That's why I might not come.”

“That'd be a disappointment.”

“You're going to see a boy. You don't need me around.”

“But it's more fun when you're around.”

“Thanks.”

“Wish me luck,” Kathy said. “I'm going to call home now.”

“Good luck.”

Kathy went out to the pay phone in the hall to dial her parents.

Cites Muscular Control

JAN. 10—The annual Posture Queen award at Barnard College was given yesterday to Miss Marjory Schulhoff of Pelham, N.Y. Freshmen were judged on the basis of carriage, poise and ease of movement, both walking and sitting. Miss Schulhoff, a prospective art major, was also queen of the Columbia College rush last fall.

She attributed her success to sleep, good food and muscular control. “Exercise alone won't do it,” she said. “I know plenty of football players who walk like apes.”

“You know,” the newly crowned Posture Queen added, “I'd feel better if it was an academic award.”

10

Miri

Usually, January was the longest month, dragging on and on, the weather cold and dreary, school routine and boring, everybody's noses runny, their throats sore. But this January everything was different. Mason called Miri every night, sometime between nine and ten o'clock, whenever he got a break at the bowling alley. If she'd finished her homework she might be watching TV at Irene's with Rusty and Ben Sapphire, who sometimes slept over on Irene's couch. Miri would leave the door between her house and Irene's open so she
could hear the phone. When it rang she'd run up the stairs, pick up the phone and drag it by its long knotted cord under the bathroom door, locking it behind her. Then she'd sit on the edge of the tub in the dark, smelling Rusty's bath salts—lavender, citrus, musk—listening to Mason's breaths and her own, until she could feel him breathing into her ear right through the phone.

After they'd said goodnight, she'd turn on the bathroom light and look at herself in the mirror on the medicine chest. Her face was always pink and warm. She'd splash it with water to take away the blush. Then she'd flush the toilet for no reason except to announce she'd finished in case anyone was interested, return the phone to the hall table and run down the stairs to catch the rest of whatever TV show they'd been watching. Irene wouldn't say anything. Neither would Rusty. But Miri was sure they'd had plenty to say while she was gone, unless it was Wednesday and they'd been watching Kraft Television Theatre. Then they wouldn't have talked at all except during commercials.

EVERY OTHER SUNDAY NIGHT
Miri and Suzanne babysat for the Fosters, seven-year-old Penny and four-year-old Betsy. Mr. Foster managed an appliance shop on Route 22 and Saturdays left him too tired to go out. It was okay with Rusty and Suzanne's mother as long as they had their homework finished and were home by ten-thirty. The girls liked it because it left them free on Saturday nights.

Mrs. Foster had an impressive collection of hand-knit cardigan sweaters to wear over crisp white shirts, and this night her cardigan was in a cobalt blue and had brass buttons. She wore the same shoes every time they babysat, black pumps with medium heels. She was usually easygoing but tonight she went over everything with Miri and Suzanne two or three times before leaving, while Mr. Foster, annoyed, checked his watch. She handed them lists with numbers of who to call in an emergency, including the Branford Theatre in Newark, where
Bright Victory
was playing, and the Weequahic Diner,
where they always stopped for supper after the movie. Mrs. Foster felt more secure knowing Suzanne's mother was a nurse. And she liked having two of them babysit, not just because she got two for the price of one. She said it was a comfort to her.

“Let's go, Jo!” Mr. Foster called.

Penny and Betsy loved that. “Let's go, Jo!” they squealed.

Mrs. Foster didn't find that funny. “I'll be right there, Monty.”

“I'll be right there, Monty,” the little girls sang, mimicking their mother.

“Stop that right now,” Mrs. Foster told them. And this time they did.

“Suzanne and Miri have heard the spiel before,” Mr. Foster called, tapping his watch.

“All right, Monty!” Mrs. Foster said. Then, quietly, to Suzanne and Miri, “Betsy has sniffles. It could be the beginning of something, or nothing. But check on her every half hour after she goes to sleep, okay?”

“Okay, sure,” Miri said and Suzanne nodded.

Mrs. Foster kissed Penny and Betsy. “You girls be good.”

“Joanne!” Mr. Foster called, and this time Mrs. Foster hurried to the door.

Once they heard the door close behind them Suzanne let out a sigh.

As soon as their mother was out of sight, the girls started racing through the house. Miri chased them, a game they loved. “Eeny, meeny, miney, moe, catch a tiger by the toe. Which little tiger will I catch first?” The girls shrieked until Miri caught one, then the other, carrying them back to the living room. When they calmed down Suzanne painted their toenails and Miri brought them milk and gingersnaps from the kitchen. Later, when they were in their twin beds, tucked in just so, Miri and Suzanne took turns reading to them from a stack of library books. Mrs. Foster had been a firstgrade teacher before the girls were born and stressed the importance of reading aloud to children.

After that, Suzanne turned on the radio, both girls took out the
homework their mothers thought they'd finished earlier and settled down on the living room floor.

Mr. and Mrs. Foster returned happy, holding hands. It must have been a good movie. Usually Mrs. Foster asked for details of how the evening had gone. But not tonight. Mr. Foster drove them home, each with $1.50 in her pocket, a bonanza! Now that the holidays were over, Miri was saving her babysitting money for her ninth-grade prom dress. She figured $15 would do it, including shoes. When Mr. Foster started humming a tune, Suzanne leaned close to Miri and whispered, “I'll bet they went to a motel instead of a movie.”

This thought had never occurred to Miri. Why would a married couple go to a motel when they said they'd be at the movies? No, Miri didn't believe it. She was sure Rusty would never do such a thing. Not that she was married. She didn't even have a boyfriend. And Miri liked it that way.

Capricorn

Born on January 15, you are a natural leader and problem solver. You have the intelligence to understand any situation and the discipline to follow through in pursuing a solution. Coupled with the trait of great loyalty, it makes you respected by all who know you. There is no better friend to have than a Capricorn.

BY THE MIDDLE
of the month Fred knew Miri so well he'd jump up and down, barking, the minute he saw her. She'd scoop him up, letting him lick her face. Unless she had an after-school activity, she'd meet Mason at Jefferson High and walk him down to Edison Lanes. Then she'd deliver Fred to Phil Stein's house, either walking all the way to Westminster or taking the bus if the weather was bad, hiding Fred inside her winter jacket, the way Mason had taught her. She loved having his little body next to hers.

Phil's mother enjoyed Fred, so even if Phil wasn't home it wasn't
a problem. Mrs. Stein was glad to see Miri, and always invited her in, offering a Tastykake, or a piece of fruit, or even a sandwich. If Miri accepted, Mrs. Stein would have something to eat, too, just to keep her company, laughing about whatever new diet she was going to start the following Monday. She liked flipping through her family photo albums, pointing out pictures of her dog, Goldie, who had died over the summer. “This is Goldie as a puppy. And here she is as a sweet old girl. A whole lifetime in twelve years.”

In one photo Miri thought she recognized the girl in the green velvet dress from the Osners' New Year's Eve party. “That's my niece Kathy,” Mrs. Stein said. “A wonderful girl. She's a freshman at Syracuse.” So it
was
Kathy Stein from New Year's Eve.

Mrs. Stein seemed lonely to Miri, especially when she talked about her children. “I miss my daughter. She's away at college. University of Michigan. And next year, when Phil leaves, I don't know what I'll do.”

“Maybe you should get another dog,” Miri suggested.

“I've thought about that,” Mrs. Stein said, “but what would we do when we travel? My husband is hoping to spend more time traveling once both children are at college.”

“Where does he want to go?” Miri asked.

“Oh, he has some
meshuggeneh
idea about adventure, about exotic lands,” Mrs. Stein said, helping herself to a second Tastykake. “Maybe India. Maybe Israel. Frankly, I'd rather see California. I'm not sure my stomach could handle India. I have a sensitive gut. You know what that's like.”

As far as guts were concerned, Miri knew only that certain foods, like raw tomatoes, triggered Irene's heartburn, and when they did, she'd drink a glass of Alka-Seltzer.

“Anyway, my husband doesn't want another dog. He's afraid I won't want to leave a puppy at the kennel when we travel. It's true I never liked leaving Goldie, even when she was grown.” She sighed and looked out the window. “It feels like snow, doesn't it?”

“I hope it does. I'd like to have fresh snow for my birthday.”

“Your birthday?”

“Yes, tomorrow. I'll be fifteen on the fifteenth.”

Mrs. Stein brightened. “Fifteen on the fifteenth! That's sure to be a lucky sign. You have to take every bit of luck that comes your way and turn it into something bigger, something lasting.”

Miri was mulling that over when Mrs. Stein touched her arm. “Come with me. I have something for you.”

“Oh, no, really…” Miri said.

“Oh, yes…really.” Miri had never seen Mrs. Stein so animated. Fred trotted up the stairs behind them to Mrs. Stein's bedroom. Until then, Miri hadn't seen much of the Steins' house, which was on the fanciest street in town, where all the houses were big and old and set back from the street, surrounded by stately trees. She was familiar only with the back porch and the kitchen. But this—Mrs. Stein's bedroom—was bigger than Miri's living room and bedroom combined, with a chaise longue and two chairs grouped around a coffee table stacked with books and magazines spilling onto the floor, waiting to be read. At the other end of the room were two beds pushed together, attached to a single carved wooden headboard. Mrs. Stein disappeared into a walkin closet behind the bed and came out with a small white box tied with a slender pink satin ribbon. She handed it to Miri. “Happy birthday.”

Miri was embarrassed.

“Open it,” Mrs. Stein sang. Miri half expected her to clap her hands and jump up and down, she seemed so pleased.

Miri opened the box. Inside was a bracelet. Gold with—were they garnets, her birthstone? “But you can't give this to me. You should save it for your daughter.”

“Her birthstone is opal,” Mrs. Stein said. “Mine is garnet, like yours. And I've got more garnet bracelets than I can count. I want you to have this one. It's delicate, like you.”

Miri had never thought of herself as delicate and wasn't sure she wanted anyone else to, either. She supposed that next to Mrs. Stein, with her ample bosom, wide hips and plump arms, she could seem delicate, but she wasn't.

“Thank you,” Miri said. “It's beautiful.”

“So are you,” Mrs. Stein said.

No one outside the family had ever told her that.

“Have a wonderful birthday.” Mrs. Stein leaned in and kissed her cheek.

Fred barked until Mrs. Stein turned her attention to him.

MIRI WAS ALMOST SURE
Rusty wouldn't approve of Mrs. Stein giving her a gold bracelet with garnets, so at first she didn't show it to her. But what was the point of having it if she could never wear it? That night she waited until after Rusty's bath, when Rusty seemed relaxed and happy, humming to herself. “Mrs. Stein gave me a bracelet for my birthday. She said it doesn't fit her anymore and she has more birthstone bracelets than she can possibly use.”