Getting Old is a Disaster Part 25

When Night Falls

F irst rainy day we've had since the hurricane. irst rainy day we've had since the hurricane.

It's the three D's out there. Dreary, dark, and depressing. I have every light on in the apartment to chase away the gloom.

I wait for Jack to come home. He's late tonight. Though things have calmed down, I guess there are still many neighborhoods that are far from being repaired and that's where the extra police still guard for trouble.

It's my night to cook. Jack has made our cooking evenings a fun contest. Surprise Night: "I'm not telling you what I'm making, see if you can guess by the way the kitchen smells." No White Food Night; not a bad thing, leaves out lots of starches. Or Compet.i.tion Night; "Who makes the best lasagna?" Not that we have lasagna two nights in a row. The compet.i.tion is two weeknights apart.

Instead of having having to cook, cooking has become fun. to cook, cooking has become fun. Fun Fun is the operative word. And he is a fun companion. Why, oh, why did I wait so long? I could have had this life a year ago. Why didn't I follow my own rule of is the operative word. And he is a fun companion. Why, oh, why did I wait so long? I could have had this life a year ago. Why didn't I follow my own rule of If not now, when? If not now, when? I was so afraid to give up what I had in favor of the unknown. I was so afraid to give up what I had in favor of the unknown.

The key turns in the lock and I hear, "Honey, I'm home." He is determined to say that silly thing every time. And I meet him at the door with a kiss and say, "Hard day at the office, dear?" A new tradition.

And of course he heads directly for the kitchen. It's Soup from Scratch Night, and I have a hearty vegetable soup on the stove. To be served with a French bread and Brie. The secret of my vegetable soup is to sprinkle grated Parmesan cheese on it when serving. Jack lifts the lid, takes a spoonful, and smiles his approval.

"You're late. Any problems?"

"Nope. I had to make a stop."

He goes into the living room, where the table is elaborately set. BJ (before Jack), a tacky placemat, paper napkins, and any old silverware. AJ, need I say Martha Stewart would be proud?

He lights the candles in my fancy silver-plated candelabra, which had gathered dust for ten years in the hall closet until now.

And then he places a small box on my plate.

There should be a crash of cymbals. The first four notes of Beethoven's Fifth at least. Something. I examine the box from every angle. It looks like a small ring box. "Is this what I think it is?" I ask.

"It is," he replies. "Exactly what you said you wanted. A garnet instead of a diamond."

"This is it, then?" I ask, stalling.

He removes the ring from the box and places it on my finger. "Last chance to run. I would get down on my knees, but you'd have to pull me up." He beams. "Hope you like the design I picked. You can always get it reset, though."

It's beautiful, but what engagement ring isn't beautiful? I can't believe how corny I feel. There must be something of a universal subconscious that prompts this response in women when they get "the ring." Tears in my eyes, a blush on my cheeks.

He kisses me. "I'm only marrying you because you love to cook."

I burst out laughing. "You're trapped, too."

"I hope forever."

I bask in the joy of the moment. I wish everyone I love could be so happy.

They sit on the couch, side by side. Joe eats a TV dinner: roast beef, mashed potatoes, green peas. Evvie eats home-cooked lemon chicken with Brussels sprouts and a salad. They watch Jeopardy! Jeopardy! Evvie calls out the answers when she knows them. Joe stares ahead and seems to be watching. But he is thinking. Evvie calls out the answers when she knows them. Joe stares ahead and seems to be watching. But he is thinking.

"Evvie," he says. "Can't we divide up the ch.o.r.es? I can cook one night, and maybe you the next."

"Hah," she says. "When did you learn to cook?"

"I manage."

"You just want me to wait on you hand and foot, like I used to. And that's not going to happen."

He sighs. "I wish we could try to make things pleasant."

"Maybe your apartment will be fixed soon, so this'll be a moot point."

He picks up her plate and his aluminum foil wrapping and brings them into the kitchen. He washes up what little there is. He calls to her, "Want me to go out and get some ice cream?"

"It's raining," she calls back.

"So what?" he says, "I won't melt."

"All right," she says grudgingly. "Make it chocolate almond fudge."

"I know. I know what you like." He grabs his raincoat from the hall closet. And like an eager puppy dog, he races out.

Evvie tries to concentrate on the TV show. She calls out an answer. "Spain." She's wrong. It's Portugal. She shakes her head, disgusted with herself. Why am I so d.a.m.ned stubborn? Why can't I bend a little? He's trying so hard. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Enya wakes up, disoriented, not knowing where she is. The room is dark. She reaches for the lamp and turns on the switch. She shakes her head to clear it. She had fallen asleep on the couch. Getting up slowly, she makes her way into the kitchen. From her window she sees Joe hurrying past. He is smiling. She puts up the kettle for tea.

Glancing at the clock she realizes it's past dinnertime. What does it matter, she's hardly ever hungry these days. She tells herself she must eat. But what for?

It's the nightmares. They won't stop. Eyes everywhere. The eyes of her husband and the children. Eyes pleading. Eyes filled with dirt and crying. Eyes dying; the light going out. Eyes of an a.s.sa.s.sin who terrorizes her.

She can't stand it, but what can she do? She needs to talk to someone. Throwing a shawl around her shoulders, she walks outside. She hesitates at Evvie's door. Then, not wanting to disturb her, on impulse she turns next door and rings Abe's bell. Immediately she regrets her action.

Abe, wearing a tallis, his praying shawl, answers and is startled to see her. "Mrs. Slovak, do you need something?"

She moves away, shaking her head. "A bad idea." She goes back into her apartment. How could she think of even going to that man? He's a stranger. And she realizes something about him makes her nervous. She drinks more tea and stares at her white kitchen wall, hoping for serenity.

Fifteen minutes later Abe knocks at her door. This time, he is wearing a jacket. He tells her, "You came to me in need and I should have helped you then and there. Forgive me."

"I'm all right. It was a moment of weakness."He tries for a smile. "Perhaps I should have brought more flowers. I seem always to be apologizing to you."

She lets him in. She asks herself why. She feels she is not in control of her actions. Once again they sit at the small table, her hands clasped, his on his lap. He waits.

She blurts it out, "It's the nightmares. I see eyes and they are always accusing. I thought I buried those dreams, but they are back." She leans her head tiredly against the white wall.

"There is only one answer. You must forgive and forget, or you will live in agony all your days."

She throws her hands into the air in frustration. "How is that possible? How can I ever forget?" She jumps up, puts her cup in the sink, needing something to do.

He speaks quietly. "You place it in a compartment in the back of your mind. And you lock the door. You find solace in G.o.d. Otherwise, there is no peace in you."

"Peace? I don't want peace. And don't you dare say to me that my family would have wanted me to forget. That they would want me to be happy! I've heard it a thousand times, said by people who could never imagine h.e.l.l on earth. You know better. You lived in the same h.e.l.l."

Her face is close to his. "I wanted to die with them."

"But G.o.d chose you to live."

"And G.o.d chose them to die?"

"He had His reasons.""Oh, yes, And what was His reason for me? To live in agony! There is no limit to the agony I must suffer, and it will never match what my family went through."

"Yet you knocked on my door because you could no longer stand the pain. Enough, Mrs. Slovak. Enya. You've paid your penance long enough."

She shakes her head violently from side to side.

"G.o.d would not want you to suffer like this."

She screams at him, "G.o.d wanted my babies to suffer?" She drops to her chair, but falls instead to the floor. He reaches down to help her up. She pushes his hands away. She stays there on her knees.

Abe leans down to her and recites gently, " 'When I believed He saved me. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress, my G.o.d, in him will I trust.' "

"No! No! No!" Enya shouts. "Leave me alone!"

He drops down on the floor in front of her. "You must forgive. You must forget. You must!" He, recites, louder, with zeal, " 'O Lord my G.o.d, I cried unto thee, and thou hast healed me.' "

"Stop it!" she shouts, and covers her ears. "I can't. I won't!"

His voice lifts higher, becomes more pa.s.sionate. He grabs her shoulders and makes her sway with him. " 'O Lord, thou hast brought up my soul from the grave: thou hast kept me alive, that I should not go down to the pit . . .' "

"Stop it! Stop it!" Enya, unable to bear another moment, pulls away with all her strength and flings her arm out. She slaps his face, accidentally knocking off his gla.s.ses. For a moment, they stare into each other's eyes. Both wild with rage and astonishment.

Then Enya faints.

When she comes to, Abe is gone and the front door is wide open.

38.

Tremors

G o on out there, my pretty coward." Jack o on out there, my pretty coward." Jack comes up behind me as I look out the window, and nuzzles me. "You can handle it."

The girls are already outside warming up for our morning exercise. I've reinstated our old routine and they are happy indeed.

"All right, already. I've got it on." I wiggle my ring finger. "But I guarantee it'll open a heap of aggravation."

Today, I intend to wear my engagement ring. It's taken me a few days to work up the courage, because I know what will happen. Instant need to make plans. Instant tumult. I shudder.

I dig my heels in, but Jack gently pushes me out the door.

Ida and Sophie perform their stretches on our landing and I join them in their warm-ups.

Across the courtyard, Evvie and Bella are doing the same. Once that's done, we head downstairs and meet for the rest of the routine of walking the paths.

As we do, we discuss our day's plans. Bella and Sophie are going to a Hada.s.sah luncheon. Ida will teach her baking cla.s.s. Evvie and I will meet up with Jack at Morrie's office and see what he can do to help solve our skeleton mystery.

I keep waiting for someone to spot the glitter of my ring. But they are looking up and looking down and looking around; Bella, of course, always keeps her eyes on her feet to make sure she doesn't trip.

I need to get this over with. "Look what I have," I say, flas.h.i.+ng my garnet ring. I had chosen my birthstone rather than a diamond. First there is a casual glance and then it sinks in. Bella and Sophie grab my hand for closer inspection. Ida's eyebrow goes up. Evvie looks at me, sees my eyes s.h.i.+ning, and she is happy for me.

Sophie and Bella then join hands and dance around me, jumping up and down. Next words out of their mouths will be "When's the wedding?"

"When's the wedding?" Sophie asks.

"We need to have a party" will follow as day follows night.

"Yeah," Bella says joyfully. "We need to make you a party."

"Party, party, party," sing my dancing girls.

"Congratulations," Ida says. The words must

be closing down her throat. I know she loves me and wants my happiness, but this is clearly churning up old bad memories for her. Someday I hope she'll feel free to confide in me.

Evvie comes to the little dancing circle and gleefully pulls it apart. She hugs me, with tears in her eyes.

"Okay, okay," I say, "but first walking, walking, walking."

The rest of the walk is plans, plans, and plans.

Evvie glances at me slyly. She knows how much I hate being the center of attention.