The Two-Family House(40)

Chapter 30





JUDITH


In the excitement surrounding her father’s big announcement, Judith forgot about the letters. It was only when she was in science class the next day and took out her textbook that she saw them in the bottom of her book bag. Her heart began to pound. Should she open them at school? No, it would be safer to wait until later, at the library.

In a few hours she was back upstairs in the dusty reading room, basking under the murkiness of the lone fluorescent bulb. She settled herself at one of the empty round tables and pulled out the letters.

Other than an occasional birthday card from a distant relative, Judith rarely received mail. Seeing her name typed across the creamy white envelopes was a thrill in itself, so for a few minutes she was content just looking at them. No matter what they contained, she was buoyed by the knowledge that she was important enough to receive letters like these, and that somewhere, someone in a college admissions office knew her name and cared enough to write to her. Her name was on a list, and whether the list meant rejection or acceptance, in the moments before she opened the envelopes she was overcome with relief that she existed somewhere outside the boundaries of her everyday life and that her name and person were as indisputably real as anyone else’s.

But relief didn’t satisfy for long. Soon she was tearing at the envelopes. Barnard was first. We are delighted to offer you admission to Barnard College as a member of the class of 1956.… Next, Bryn Mawr: It gives us great pleasure to inform you that your application for admission has been approved.…

She read and reread the letters, looking for some sign of trickery or fraud. Were they real? Did this mean she could go to college? What should she do now? Who should she tell?

Judith’s initial thought was to bring the letters to Mrs. Morhardt, but it was Friday, and she wouldn’t see the school counselor until Monday morning. She could tell Harry, but she was still feeling guilty about lying to him the day before. Of course her parents would have to be told. She hadn’t told them she was applying to colleges. She hadn’t mentioned that graduating early was even a possibility. What would they think? The library clock read 5:03. She’d find out soon enough.

At dinner everyone was still talking about the news from the night before. What did the new house look like? Were there other children in the neighborhood? Would they walk to school or take a bus?

Judith was surprised by how happy her mother seemed about the move. There was something about the way she acted that reminded Judith of the months right before Teddy was born. Her mother had been so hopeful then. Maybe the move was just what she needed. Maybe her worrying would stop when they were living outside of Brooklyn.

There was even talk of her mother learning to drive.

“You do have a good sense of direction, Rose,” her father said, rising from the table. Judith’s mother smiled at him as if he had just said the most romantic thing in the world. I suppose now is as good a time as any, Judith thought. When her siblings left the kitchen she cleared her throat. “May I please speak to you both? It’s important.”

It was not common for Judith to ask for an audience. Her father nodded and sat back down.

“I need to show you something.” Judith got up from the table to retrieve the two letters and then placed them in front of her father.

Mort inspected the envelopes. He read the first letter carefully, then turned his attention to the second. Judith waited for him to smile, to congratulate her, but he didn’t. He passed the letters to Rose and asked, “Did you know about this?” Her mother shook her head no, her expression unreadable.

“Why didn’t you tell us about this earlier?” Mort demanded. Judith was surprised by the severity of his tone.

“The letters just came yesterday.”

“Is there anything else you’d like to share?”

“I don’t understand—”

He was impatient. “Are you expecting any more letters?”

“No.”

“These are the only colleges you applied to?”

“Yes.”

“Who else knows?” Why is he asking so many questions?

“No one. Well, the school counselor, Mrs. Morhardt. She’s the one who encouraged me to graduate early and to apply to colleges.”

“You didn’t think it was important to tell us?”

“I didn’t think it would amount to anything. I didn’t think they would accept me.”

“You purposefully deceived us.”

“No! I didn’t tell you because—”

“Because you didn’t want us to know.” Her father punctuated the sentence with a bang of his fist. The table shook with the force of the blow and Judith pushed her chair back a few inches. She had known that her parents might not react the way she wanted them to. She had anticipated that they might object to her going to school in Pennsylvania. But she always assumed they would be proud of her. She would be the first of their family to graduate from college. Weren’t they supposed to be excited?

“I wanted to surprise you,” she said, “the way you surprised us with the moving news.” This wasn’t entirely true, but it wasn’t a lie. Still, one look at her father told Judith that she had said the wrong thing. He looked like he was about to explode.

“Do you understand how embarrassing this is? That our daughter went behind our backs without our permission?”