The House of Eve (43)

It had been so long since I laid eyes on him, heard his voice, felt his fingers caught in my hair. Smart Ruby should have retreated upstairs to the safety of the apartment, but the vision of him had weighed me down like iron to the cushion I used to pad my seat.

I tried not to think about him, to concentrate on my brush, dipped in green with a tint of yellow, as it stroked up and down the canvas, but my eyes kept darting toward the store every time I heard the swish and pull of the door, followed by the bell’s ding. A few moments later, Shimmy emerged carrying a gallon of paint and a few drop cloths tucked under his arm. He didn’t look my way when he strolled by me, but a piece of paper fell into my lap.

It had been ten months and four days since I broke up with him in Aunt Marie’s living room, and that white paper burned feverishly in my palm. I didn’t want to open it, but I didn’t know how not to.


Mr. Greenwald is out of town. Meet me at the back door of the candy store at 7pm. Please come. I need to tell you something. Knock three times so that I know it’s you.

Yours,

Shimmy



All the Jewish shops on 31st Street were closed on Saturdays, so the back alley behind the stores was deserted, except for an abandoned car with two flat tires, and a big blue trash dumpster that smelled of spoiled sardines. It was dark out. The sunny day had turned into a frigid March night, with the temperature dropping at least thirty degrees. My fingers were frozen as I timidly knocked three times.

The door spun open and Shimmy stood in the frame in a pair of dungarees, white collared shirt and a boyish grin on his face. He had grown nearly two inches in our time apart. His shoulders had filled out and his chest was defined. The string bean boy I had met had morphed into a stalk of a man. He reached for my hand and pulled me inside.

The lights were off, and the fragrance of the combined smell of chocolate, caramel, fudge and other sweets from the front of the store made me hungry. I followed him down a narrow hall and into a small storage room. In the middle of the floor was a makeshift table covered in a red checkered cloth. On top, there was a single candle lit, white Tupperware containers and plastic spoons. Two pillows were thrown on either side.

“Please, sit.” He finally let my hand go, and when he did, I could still feel the warmth of his grip.

“What’s all this?” I folded my arms over my breasts cautiously.

“Dinner. I brought you some matzo ball soup and challah.”

I looked around the storage room at the shelves of boxes, bowls and stacks of supplies, while asking myself why I had defied my good sense of logic and reason by answering his call. No good could come from sneaking into the back of the candy store with a boy who should have long been out of my system.

“Please.” He gestured to the pillow on the floor opposite him. “While the food is still warm.”

My instinct was to say goodbye, but what tumbled out of my mouth was “I can’t believe you went through so much trouble,” and I felt myself being drawn to the pillow he had prepared.

“What have you been up to?” He took a bite, but I saw a slight tremble of his hands.

“Not much.”

On the walk over, I had decided to keep my guard up. Only coming to hear what he had to say. Not to rekindle a friendship and definitely not a love affair. But with him so close, the hard shell that I had worked up around me had already begun to splinter, and then I asked the question that had been burning inside of me.

“Where have you been?”

My voice came out much more intense than I had wanted, and he put down his spoon.

“New York, taking classes at Brooklyn College. Why? Did you miss me?” His face flushed.

I giggled away his question, hoping my eyes didn’t betray my truth. “Studying accounting?”

“Oh man, it’s much harder than I thought. But I’m making it. What about you? Still chasing that scholarship?”

I straightened my back. “It’s the only option for me.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Shimmy covered my hand, and his eyes were a softer green than I had remembered. “It’s in the bag for you. When do they make the official announcement?”

“I’m in the running is all I can say. There are still eight of us for only two scholarships.” I fingered the braided bread. “What’s college like?”

Going myself was all I could think about. Shimmy was the only person that I had known to attend a university and I was dying to hear everything.

“Hectic. Everyone has an opinion. There is always someone protesting something. Definitely more of a melting pot than here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I go to school with people from all walks of life. And that’s been good for me. Helped me shape my perspective. Opened my eyes a bit.”

“Yeah? To what?”

“I think I understand you better.”

I laughed. “You spend ten months away, and now you understand me better?”

He put a hunk of bread in his mouth and chewed. “That’s what I’m saying. Living here, it was like I was trapped in my own little world. I only knew what my parents showed me. That was Jewish life, our little box. But up in Brooklyn, I had friends who were German, Italian, Negro and even Puerto Rican.”

“What’s that got to do with me?”

“I see you, Ruby.” He ran his fingers up to my elbow. “You said I couldn’t see our differences and that I was living in a safe bubble, and I understand that now.”