The Great Husband Hunt (24 page)

Bernie didn't know about Sapphire. This appeared to scandalize her more than anything else I'd told her.

She said, “You mean you gave her away?”

I said, “Hardly. Honey is my sister, and it's only a temporary arrangement.”

“Even so,” she said. “How could you be parted from her? Does she know you? Does she call you Mammy?”

She didn't, of course. She was aged one and a half years, and my reappearance in her life had hardly registered. Attempts had been made to train her to call my sister Mommy Honey and me Mommy Poppy, but the best she could manage in her lisping infant way was “Mop.” I settled for that.

Bernie had grown more sedate. She was wearing her hair in a chignon, with Spanish combs, and she had a cabochon amethyst on her third finger. Her new beau was a banker called Wendell Tite, and they were engaged to be married.

“I'll soon be catching up to you,” she said. “I'll soon have a whole nursery full of little Tites. Of course, mine won't be royal. Isn't it a caution, how Gil always called you Princess, and now you're practically going to be one?”

It was so good to see her. In Paris I'd missed having a friend. Stassy had been too foreign, and Nancy couldn't be depended on. Humpy was all right, but there were certain things one could never discuss with a boy. Not even if he was a fairy.

32

As I had predicted, I was able to divert much of Ma's distress over my modern condition, with the prospect that she would soon be connected by marriage to Queen Mary of England. I obtained a newspaper photograph of the Queen and King George visiting English unfortunates in their hovels, and Ma studied it assiduously.

“Tell me again, Poppy,” she'd say. “How many times removed is Mr. Merrick?”

The challenge of raining on my parade revived Aunt Fish's spirits.

“I question whether Queen Mary is in possession of the facts,” she said. “Consider, Dora. Can a person who is between husbands, and between them in a regrettable condition, can such a person be a fitting ornament to a royal family? Are there no English roses available? I'm sure there are. And another point is this, why hasn't Mr. Merrick a noble title? I'd be circumspect, Dora, about raising people's expectations. How foolish you're going to appear when Poppy doesn't become a Highness.”

“Don't throw up so many puzzles, Zillah,” Ma said. “I had just begun to understand it all, and now you've confused me.”

I said, “Reggie doesn't have to marry an English rose. Why Queen Mary herself is German.”

This silenced both of them. Ma examined the photograph again and Aunt Fish considered her position. Then Honey arrived with my child. I was meant to be spending an hour with her each morning, to be increased to two hours when she had taken to me enough to stop howling the instant she saw my face.

“An important development,” Ma cried, as soon as Honey entered the room. “Queen Mary is German, so I'm sure she'll be very happy to have Poppy.”

“I believe,” Honey said, “Sapphire may be getting a head cold.” Honey hated to talk about the new life that awaited me in England.

I said, “Ma, is that a German card you're suddenly playing? I thought we had removed all those from the pack. Don't I recall your changing our name to Minton?”

“I did it for the best,” she said. “I did everything for the best. Have you mentioned…Germanness…to Mr. Merrick?”

“Another point,” Aunt Fish resumed, “is how this will place Sapphire. Can the child of a person from Pennsylvania possibly be
accommodated
by nobility?”

“Of course she can,” Ma said. “All that has to be done is to remove that person from the record. Harry will know how. Harry will see to it.”

Harry seemed to have gathered around him an army of people he referred to as his “difficulty adjusters.” It was hard to conceive of that half-wit having any kind of power, but it still caused me a momentary chill to hear talk of removing Gil from the record, and from Ma's innocent lips, too.

I said, “Well, I never mentioned Germanness, because I never think of myself as having any, and Reggie knows about Gil and Sapphire. Our love is going to conquer all. And my being a Hebrew doesn't bother him either.”

Honey said, “You told him a thing like that?”

“It just came up,” I said. “Our friend Humpy Choate mentioned it. He knows pretty much everything there is to know about me. And anyway, as Humpy said, lots of English have mixed blood. Over there you see inexplicable features in the very best families.”

“There!” Ma said. “So everything is quite in order. Harry will see about the Catchings man, and as soon as ever possible Poppy will sail for England and marry Mr. Merrick. Then I shall face the perils of the ocean myself to be there when Queen Mary asks to meet Poppy's people. And you must come with me, Zillah, because I doubt that Judah can be spared from business to make such a long trip.”

“And in the meanwhile,” my aunt concluded, “it would be better if Poppy went away to Nevada, until her time comes, lest gossip undo all our good work.”

I was excused my hour with Sapphire as she was feverish and Honey and Ma were united in wishing to avoid any harm to my unborn child, a scion of the blood royal. Instead I borrowed Ma's driver and took my stepbrother Murray to Delancey Street for a blintz.

“If you don't mind being seen with an ungainly and fallen woman,” I said.

“No,” he said. “I'll think of it as an act of charity.”

Judah Jacoby had very strong ideas about good works and insisted that his boys followed his lead. He gave away one-tenth of everything he made.

“One-tenth!” I remembered my aunt flinching. “And you may be sure the people he gives it to have no idea of its value.”

“But it doesn't end there,” Ma had whispered. “He says one-tenth is his duty. He says giving only counts when it goes beyond duty.”

“I think he has been misinformed,” Aunt Fish had said. “If people were obliged to give away their money like that, Israel would have known about it. This is probably an idea got up by Yetta. I sense her hand in this. But you must put a stop to it, Dora. You are the mistress of this house now.”

But Ma had put a stop to nothing. Judah gave and gave, and he preferred to do it secretly.

“Now Dorabel,” he said, when she objected to his hospital donations. “Are you going barefoot? Are we starving?”

“Then they might at least name a wing for us,” she complained.

“No,” he said, “a secret gift is doubly blessed.”

His ideas had implications for Oscar and Murray, too. They didn't have fortunes, nor even proper allowances. They were supposed to support themselves, unless ill health prevented it, and give what little they had to worthy projects.

I said, “So, Murray Jacoby, what's to become of you?”

“What's to become of
me
?” he laughed. “That's pretty rich. Well, I'm meant to be enrolling at the School of Commerce, Accounts and Finance, but actually I'd rather be a gardener.”

I said, “And how do you go about that?”

“Don't know,” he said. “I suppose one runs away to the country. Oscar and Auntsie have a garden.”

I thought it sounded rather boring. When I wanted flowers I just called up Fleischmann's and they delivered.

I said, “And do you have a sweetheart yet?”

“No,” he said, flushing and immediately changing the subject. “Let's talk about Sapphire,” he said. “And Gil. What's to become of them? I feel pretty sorry for them in all this.”

I said, “Gil has his new friends in Paris and his paradoxical art. And Sapphire has Honey and Ma and everyone else treasuring her. I'm sure she has no reason to be pitied. I think perhaps you
do
have a sweetheart.”

“Sapphire doesn't understand who you are,” he said. “It's all too complicated for her. She needs to be at home with you, not just seeing you now and then. I think you must make more of an effort, Poppy.”

“Well,” I said, “I thought we were here to enjoy a blintz and be friends, but I see you've been sent to lecture me. Did my ma put you up to this?”

“No,” he said. He had really turned out rather well. More filled out than Oscar, more open-faced. If he didn't already have a sweetheart it wouldn't be long before he did.

“Are you really going to take her to England?” he asked.

“I expect so,” I said. “That's where Reggie's home is, you see? In the city of Melton Mowbray. Do you still write those little verses?”

“When the spirit moves me,” he said. He looked glum.

I said, “Don't be so downhearted. You'll be able to visit us, you know?”

“Yes,” he said. “When I'm not being an accountant. What will you call your new baby?”

“Abraham Reginald Murray,” I said, and at long last brought a smile to his face.

We dropped him just by Washington Square where he was supposed to be making inquiries about enrolling in New York University. Then I had the driver take me to a cablegram office.

“STILL NO NEWS REGGIE,” I wired Humpy. “ADVISE SOONEST.”

33

Reggie's daughter was born on February 18, 1926. After ten hours of torment composed of childbirth pangs and the alternating attendance of my mother, my sister and my aunt, I gave in and was admitted to Mount Sinai Hospital.

“God knows you may as well,” Ma said. “Judah has poured enough money into the place.”

I had heard nothing from Gil, nor from Reggie, a point Aunt Fish never failed to bring up at least once a day. I had tried to seed the idea that this was due to his natural English reserve. This succeeded with Ma, but fell on stony ground with my aunt.

“I begin to wonder,” Aunt Fish said, in a whisper that could have been heard the other side of Madison Avenue, “whether Mr. Merrick isn't one of Poppy's imaginings.”

For once Ma defended me. She was relishing the thought of my illustrious future and spent a good deal of time considering what names would be suitable for a minor princess.

“Protocol prevents him from being here, Zillah,” she said, “until Poppy has been to Nevada and Harry has dealt with…that other business.
Then
Mr. Merrick will come. Do you know, I believe Dora would do very well. Princess Dora.”

But with every day that passed and still nothing from Reggie, I felt something in me withering away. Humpy's letters arrived regularly, but they were no help.

“Has Reggie received my news?” I wrote. “Perhaps my letter went astray. Have you mentioned it to him?”

“Not as such,” Humpy replied.

“Well, please do mention it to him,” I sent back immediately, “in the clearest possible terms.”

“Poppy, I hope you're not going to create an unpleasant flap,” came Humpy's reply three weeks later. “The thing is, Reggie has been in Africa, deciding whether to go into tobacco. I dare say he'll have come home to a mountain of correspondence.”

I named the child Emerald Merrick Minkel and resigned myself to a life of misery. To the tedium of motherhood, and the shame of being abandoned, and Aunt Fish's insufferable triumph. Then, the day before I was due to leave for Reno, Nevada, to end my marriage to Gil Catchings, I received a cablegram.

“Gosh,” it said. “Meet You Southampton. Never Fear.”

How different the world can look, from one moment to the next. Those six words filled me with energy. I immediately began a design for my disembarkation outfit.

Honey was crestfallen at my news.

“You can't think of sailing so soon,” she said, “with a tiny baby, and Sapphire not even accustomed to you yet. And what if Mr. Merrick has decided to go into tobacco? Africa is quite unsuitable for women and children.”

“You're right,” I said. “I had wondered how to broach this, but now you've spared my blushes. I think Emerald and Sapphire might do better waiting here till I can send for them. I hate to put upon you again, Honey…”

“Not at all,” she said. “It's the least I can offer, and besides, you know, I've grown so attached to the both of them. If it should turn out that Africa is on the cards, you can depend on me to keep them safe till your return. What an adventurer you are, Poppy!”

I could almost have believed my sister was in a hurry to see me go.

My final week in New York was a whirlwind of shopping and visiting and closing up my trunks. Only one or two small black clouds invaded my patch of blue sky.

First, Bernie declined to lunch with me.

“I can't believe you're leaving two darling waifs behind,” she said. “Whatever happened to your heart?”

She had become so old-fashioned and sentimental since taking up with Wendell Tite.

Then a farewell luncheon was arranged, to be held at the Jacoby house. My preference was for Sherry's to cater a champagne send-off in my stateroom, but Ma said it would be unsuitable to be so ostentatious, given recent events. I believe she was merely parroting what Judah had said.

The whole family had gathered to bid me bon voyage, even Harry. I was hardly through the door before he began quizzing me on the financial provisions I was making for my daughters to be lodged in his house.

“Harry!” Honey said gently. “You promised!”

“I'm merely trying to place this on a business footing,” he said. “You'll find it's for the best.”

I said, “Name your price, Harry. I know better than to expect anything for nothing from you. Go on! I'll write you a check.”

“Don't Harry, please!” Honey begged. “Aren't we family? And didn't we always intend having a little sister for Shermy? I'm sure we should be paying Poppy for the pleasure of having these little lamby-pies around.”

On hearing the word “lamby-pies,” Harry stormed out onto the front stoop for a cigarette.

“Pay no heed, Pops,” Honey said. “He's just in a bad humor since that uppity Union Club stiffed him. Between you and me, he has just adored having Sapphire around. He'd be heartbroken to see her go.”

I took her word for it.

Downstairs Honey's day nurse spooned glop into the babies, whilst upstairs we had Russian salad and roast chicken and port wine mold. Ma and Aunt Fish spent the meal surmising whether they would require tiaras when the summons came to meet Queen Mary.

Judah said, “Why not invite her here and save yourself all this worry and expense?”

“Invite her here?” Ma squeaked. “Queen Mary of England? What a silly idea. Every drape and chair cover would have to be replaced. And we'd need a new tea service. I doubt it would represent any kind of saving, Judah.”