The Two-Family House(57)

Natalie spotted her mother on one of the too-hard couches near the fireplace. There was an open place next to her on the right side, so Natalie scooted in and sat down. Her mother’s arm immediately went around her, even though her head was turned so she could listen to the woman on her left. Natalie didn’t know who the woman was, but her gray-blond hair was swept up in an elegant hairstyle and she was wearing diamond earrings. She was much older than Natalie’s mother but still pretty.

“Stuart’s brother was eighty-two but still so vibrant. We came north last week for his funeral on Tuesday, and then we got the call yesterday about poor Teddy. It’s horrible—two funerals in one week. But I’m grateful we were in New York so we could be here today.”

“I’m sure it’s a great comfort to have you here, especially for Rose.”

“Yes, well, my niece is very special to me.” She peeked around Helen to get a look at Natalie. “Now who is this lovely young lady?”

“This is my daughter, Natalie. She and Teddy were born on the same day—I’m sure you’ve heard the story. Natalie was with Teddy yesterday during the accident.”

“Oh dear.” The woman took Natalie’s hand and held it. She was wearing a lot of gold rings with diamonds and other stones. “That must have been terrible for you.”

Natalie wasn’t sure how to respond. “Thank you,” she managed to say, taking her hand back. “Are you one of the neighbors?”

The woman smiled. “No, dear. I’m Aunt Faye, Rose’s aunt. Her mother was my sister.”

“You’re the rich aunt! With the fancy apartment,” she said.

“Natalie!” Her mother was mortified.

“Oh, it’s all right, dear.” Aunt Faye was amused. “I am rich, and my apartment is fancy.” She turned to Natalie to explain. “I never had any children, so I never had to worry about buying expensive things. There’s no one around to break them.”

“That’s sad,” Natalie told her.

“Natalie! Enough!” It was her mother again. “I’m so sorry, Faye, she really isn’t herself.”

“Nonsense, dear, the child is perfectly right. It is sad.”

Natalie nodded. “Did you want to have children?”

“Yes, dear, very much. But, as they say, it wasn’t in the cards.”

“Oh.” Natalie must have looked particularly glum just then, because her mother told her she was going to get her a cookie. Helen got up from the couch, patted her daughter on the head and started walking in the direction of the dining room. Natalie was left alone with Aunt Faye.

“I’m going to tell you something I don’t tell a lot of people,” Aunt Faye said to her. She scooted a little bit closer on the couch. “Have you ever heard of Emily Dickinson?” Natalie shook her head. “Of course—you’re too young. Well, Emily Dickinson was a very brilliant woman. She was a poet and she was also what people call a recluse. She didn’t like to leave her house. Anyway, someone gave me a book of her poetry when I graduated from high school. I never even opened it. But years later, after my husband and I were married, I looked at it. I remember the day because it was after I had miscarried for the third time—I couldn’t stay pregnant long enough to have a baby. So there I was at home, in my apartment.” Aunt Faye paused then and smiled. “My very fancy apartment. I had nothing to do so I opened the book and read the poems. And that was when I found a special poem that helped me feel better.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t remember all of it, but the first part goes like this.” Aunt Faye cleared her throat and closed her eyes. “‘I measure every Grief I meet, with analytic eyes—I wonder if it weighs like Mine—or has an Easier size.’”

“I don’t understand.”

“It is difficult to understand, isn’t it? Of course everyone has their own ideas, but I think it means that everyone has some sadness in life. Maybe someone they love is sick or died, or maybe someone they love doesn’t love them back. Maybe they don’t have enough money for something they really need. For me it was that I couldn’t have a baby. But for another person the grief could be something different. Something they wish they did or something they wish they didn’t do.”

“Oh.”

“We always think our own grief is the worst—worse than everybody else’s. But the truth is, we never know for sure what the people around us are feeling. I have had some bad things happen, but then a lot of wonderful things happened to me, too. An awful thing happened to you yesterday. But you mustn’t let it ruin the happiness that lies ahead for you, dear.”

“I’ll try.”

“Good. Now, that’s enough talk from a silly old lady.”

Natalie got up off the couch and hugged Aunt Faye. “I don’t think you’re silly,” she told Faye. “And you have really pretty earrings.”

Faye threw back her head then and laughed. A few of the people in the room turned to see who was laughing so loudly. Maybe you’re not supposed to laugh when someone dies, Natalie thought, but I think it might help.





Chapter 43





ABE


Abe was relieved when Natalie threw up on the way back from the cemetery. Nothing felt normal before she got sick by the side of the road. The sight of it finally made the boys in the backseat talk again. Gross! Who knew she could puke that far? He was happy to hear their comments, no matter how obnoxious they were.