The Two-Family House(58)

Abe thought he knew how difficult the day would be for Helen. But when she fell apart at the funeral home he realized he had not fully grasped the depth of her grief. To be told she wasn’t worthy of wearing the mourner’s ribbon had pushed her over the edge.

Seeing Natalie get sick snapped Helen out of her reverie. She had jumped out of the car to help Natalie clean her face and smooth back her hair. And for the rest of the ride Harry took the front seat next to Abe while Helen crammed into the back of the car with Natalie on her lap. Squeezed in with the boys, Helen was close enough to smell the mint of George’s toothpaste and the chemicals from Sam’s hair pomade. There was comfort for her in the closeness of her children.

By the time they got to Mort’s house, Helen’s heartbreak was slightly less visible. Abe saw that it was easier for her to talk to strangers, so he steered her toward people he didn’t recognize. Whenever he saw Rose getting close, he purposefully led Helen to the other side of the room.

After an hour passed, Abe decided to go in search of his brother. He left Helen in the care of Rose’s Aunt Faye and walked upstairs to Mort and Rose’s room. The door was open and there was no sign of Mort.

Farther down the hall, the door to Teddy’s room was shut. Abe knocked softly, then entered. He found his brother, sitting at Teddy’s desk, staring down at the collection of notebook paper, baseball cards, marbles and other little-boy paraphernalia precariously piled on top. It was clear that nothing had been touched since Teddy had left for school the day before. Mort’s face was expressionless, his eyes blank. Abe approached carefully, not wanting to startle him. “Hey, Mort.”

But Mort didn’t answer. He sat perfectly still, his body erect, straight against the back of the desk chair. Abe stood behind him and carefully placed his right hand on his brother’s shoulder. “How about you come downstairs with me and I’ll get you a drink. Or maybe something to eat? Are you hungry?”

There was a barely perceptible shaking of the head. Abe didn’t see it, but he felt it. He wanted to lean over and embrace Mort then, to share his brother’s burden, but all he could manage was to keep his hand where it was, motionless on Mort’s shoulder. Abe was frozen, connected to his brother by only the slightest touch of his fingertips. Five minutes, ten minutes, twenty minutes passed. He had no way to extricate himself. He felt it would have been unbearably cruel.

“Uncle Mort? Are you there?” It was Natalie, bustling up the steps, shattering their silence with movement and sound. This time Mort answered. “In here,” he said.

Natalie peeked in, saw Mort in the chair and ran over to hug him. She hadn’t been able to get near him at the funeral, and now Abe watched in amazement as his brother accepted Natalie’s embrace. For close to half an hour he had stood behind Mort, barely touching him, scarcely speaking, trying to find some way to communicate his sympathy, his solidarity, his love. All that Abe had contemplated, Natalie accomplished in an instant.

“I miss Teddy so much,” she told him.

“I do too,” Mort said.

She looked over Mort’s shoulder at Abe. “Daddy does too. Don’t you, Daddy?”

“Yes,” he answered. “I do.”

Natalie wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her dress. She looked at the mess on Teddy’s desk and then back at Mort. “Were you looking for the book?” she asked.

Mort nodded.

“He keeps it under the bed,” she said. “So he won’t lose it.”

She walked over to Teddy’s bed, kneeled on the carpet and pulled a large math textbook from behind the navy bed skirt. Abe recognized it. It was the book Teddy brought to their house every week when he came over for dinner. “His best comics are under there too,” Natalie told Mort. “In case you want them.”

She cleared off an area on the desk and opened the book to page forty-two. “This is where we left off last Thursday. Geometry. Teddy loves the shape drawings.”

Abe scanned the pages over Mort’s shoulder. “How do you kids understand all this?” he asked. It looked much too complicated for third graders.

“Uncle Mort goes slow,” Natalie answered. “We don’t do the stuff in here. It’s just like a map for us to follow. We do easier problems that Uncle Mort makes up. But we love looking at the book. It used to be Uncle Mort’s.”

“That’s terrific,” Abe said.

Tears ran down Natalie’s cheeks. “But now it’s all over.”

“You can still look at the book, honey,” Abe told her.

“I can’t.” She shook her head. “Not without Teddy and not without Uncle Mort.”

No one spoke for a long time. Then Mort took in a deep breath. When he let it out, he spoke. “I’m still here,” he said.

Natalie shook her head again. “But we can’t study together anymore. I can’t come Thursdays after school and Aunt Rose would be upset, and…” Her words ran together and turned to tears on her tongue. Abe couldn’t bear to see her cry again.

“Listen,” Abe said. “What if I pick you up from school on Thursdays? You won’t take the bus, you’ll come back to the office with me.”

“Why?”

“Whaddya mean, why?” He tried to smile. “You’ll come to the office and you can study with Uncle Mort there.” He looked at his brother. “How does that sound?” Abe held his breath. What if Mort says no?