The Boston Girl(12)
I had the horrible feeling that she’d said yes just to protect me. I even asked, “That’s not why you’re marrying him, is it?”
She said no. “Actually, I feel bad because once I’m gone, you’ll have to leave school and I know how much you want to keep going.”
She was right. My parents didn’t make enough money to pay the rent and everything else. Without Celia’s pay I was going to have to get a full-time job.
I felt like a rock had fallen on my chest.
Celia whispered, “I’m sorry, Addie.”
I said it wasn’t her fault, which was true. I also said it was okay, but that was not true.
Mazel tov.
When Levine found out about my sister Betty, he invited her to the wedding. Mameh started arguing, but he made that wave with his hand and said, “Don’t be so old-fashioned. I want to meet one of these New Women. Anyway, Celia wants her there.”
When Betty walked into the apartment a few nights later, my mother wouldn’t even look in her direction. Betty grinned at me. “Who knew little Addie would turn into such a spitfire? Going off on an adventure like that without telling anyone? Atta girl.”
I didn’t really know Betty. What I remembered most about her was the fights she and Mameh had about her not coming home right after work or about going out at night with friends. The funny thing is, except for the fact that she was younger and curvier, Betty was an exact copy of our mother: same brown eyes, same wavy brown hair, and the same broad nose. They talked the same, too, as if they knew the answer to everything, shaking their heads up and down a lot, which made you nod back, as if you agreed with them—even if you didn’t.
Betty was a big talker. She told us all about her job at Filene’s and how she had moved up from wrapping packages to salesgirl quicker than anyone could remember.
“You see this skirt?” Betty said. “I got it practically free. A lady brought it back to the store and said it was ripped when she bought it. I think she tore it herself but the store has to pretend like the customer is always right, especially the ones who spend a lot of money. So that means us girls get some nice bargains.”
She asked Celia a lot of questions about “this Levine” and came right out and asked if she really wanted to take care of his two children and his house. Mameh got mad. “Of course it’s what she wants. It’s what every woman wants.”
Celia said that we shouldn’t worry and that he was a fine man.
Betty started coming over a lot and she usually brought presents: tobacco for Papa, a scarf for Celia, stockings for me, chocolate drops for Mameh. But no matter what she brought or how Celia tried to make nice, it always ended with a fight. Mameh would complain about America; how the apples had no taste and children didn’t listen to their parents—even the air was worse here. “People get sick from everyone breathing the same air. In our village we had room at least. The air was clean.”
Sooner or later, Betty would smack the table and say, “Enough, already! I remember what it was like over there and the air smelled like cow shit. And the floor in the house was made of dirt. Can you imagine such a thing, Addie? Filthy and disgusting! In America, at least it’s the twentieth century.”
When they started fighting, Celia shriveled up like a plant without enough water. Sometimes I wondered if she was marrying Levine just to get away from the noise and the tension.
Celia said she wanted to make her own wedding dress, so Levine bought her a beautiful piece of white satin. But a few days before the wedding, when it still wasn’t done, Betty said she would help with the finishing and made Celia try it on.
The dress was a plain shift that fell from her shoulders to her ankles, with long sleeves and a flat collar. Betty threw a fit. “You can’t wear that. It looks like a nightgown.”
Celia said it would be better when she attached the sash. “Then maybe you’ll look like a shiny nurse,” Betty said. “I’m going to buy the fanciest veil I can find and some lace for the collar and around the hem. You are going to be a pretty bride or I’m not coming to this wedding.” Celia giggled, and for a moment I saw them as children: the bossy big sister and the little sister who would follow her anywhere.
—
Celia’s wedding day was sunny and beautiful, so Mameh had to spit three times to ward off the evil eye. “Rain is what brings luck,” she said. Betty rolled her eyes and fussed with the veil, which had little pearls sewn all over and covered most of the dress and made Celia look like a princess.
Before we left the house, Betty took me aside and asked if Mameh had explained to Celia what happens on the wedding night.
I said, “Probably not.”
Betty groaned. “That isn’t good. I’m telling you, Addie, our Celia is not a strong person. We have to keep an eye on her, you and me.”
But now that Celia was leaving, I realized how much she had watched over me and had put herself between my mother and me. It was going to be awful without her.
—
Celia took Papa’s arm as we walked around the corner to the little storefront synagogue, where Levine and his sons were waiting by the door. The boys looked miserable in new shoes and starched shirts and the groom was blinking as if he had something in his eye.
“Where’s your family?” Mameh said.
Levine only had a few second cousins in America, but their children had gotten mumps, so the whole wedding party was just the eight of us, including his boys.