The Two-Family House(60)

Helen couldn’t look at him. Her eyes began to tear.

“Ah, don’t start crying. I shudda never said that. All this talk, I shudda never brought it up. I’m sorry.” He patted her hand. “Don’t get started, okay? I came over to cheer you up, not to make you cry.”

Helen took a paper napkin from the holder on the table and wiped her eyes. She stared down at the napkin and began pulling it into pieces. When she realized what she was doing, she got up from her chair, blew her nose with what was left of the napkin and tossed it in the garbage. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for the Danish.”

“Good, right?”

“I can’t believe you left the cherry, though.”

“Whaddya mean? I love a cheese Danish.”

“I thought you loved cherries.” She started wiping the crumbs off the table. “Remember that cake Grandma used to bring us when we were little, from Gus’s? You always wanted the cherry from the top. Remember?”

Sol grinned. “Yeah, I remember. Every Friday.”

“She always let you have the cherry—you were her favorite.”

Sol brought his empty coffee cup over to the sink. “I wasn’t her favorite. Cousin Susan was her favorite.”

“Well, she liked you better than me.”

“You’re nuts.”

“Then how come she always gave you the cherry?”

“Jeez, Helen, you been stewing over that for twenty-five years? A stinking cherry?”

“It was a symbol!” As soon as she said it, she realized how ridiculous it sounded. Sol started to laugh.

“Who are you? Sigmund Freud?”

“She liked you better! You were the boy.”

“Bullshit!”

“Sol!” She didn’t like it when he talked that way.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“Anyway, why’d she give you the cherry every time? How come I never got it?” Helen started rinsing out the coffee cups.

“You didn’t need it.”

She turned off the water and looked at her brother. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means she didn’t give it to you because you didn’t need it. You were a happy kid, lots of friends. Why’d you need the stupid cherry?” Sol took one of the dish towels hanging from the handle of the oven and started drying the mugs.

“Why did you?”

“Because I was a miserable little bastard! Don’t you remember me at that age? I was terrible at school—I could barely read!”

“But Grandma always said how brilliant you were!”

“To make me feel better about being so stupid! Plus, I used to get beat up every day after school by that Rodney what’s-his-name. The kid a few blocks over. Him and his older brother.”

“Why’d they pick on you?”

Sol shrugged. “They had a sister, Juliette, Julie, something like that. Beautiful girl. Couldn’t take my eyes off her. I gave her a candy bar once.”

“That was nice.”

“Not to them. Every time they caught me looking at her, they’d practically murder me.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t know any of this.…”

“That’s why she gave me the cherry. You didn’t need it. Pretty, good grades, always smiling. You had it all. Me, I had bupkis. So the old lady tried to make me feel special. Gave me the lousy cherry to cheer me up. If I had known it was such a big deal to you…”

“I shouldn’t have even brought it up. Now I feel terrible.”

“Why? That’s life, kiddo. Two sides to every story. You gotta look at things from every angle.”

“When did you get so smart?” She punched him in the arm and laughed.

“You better watch it, toots.…” And then he was chasing her around the kitchen like they were children again, Sol in his fancy suit and Helen in her housecoat. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so hard. She could barely breathe.

Harry walked into the kitchen. “Hey, Uncle Sol.” He took in the scene, confused. “Why are you guys running around the kitchen?”

Sol took a deep breath and smoothed back his hair with the palm of his hand. “Just cheering your mom up a little. You want the last Danish?” Sol motioned to the box on the table. “I’ll take it with me,” Harry told him. “I have to make my train.”

“I’ll give you a ride in. I was leaving now anyway.”

“Thanks! That’d be terrific.” He grabbed the pastry from the box and took a bite. “Cherry—my favorite!”

Sol raised his eyebrows at Helen, and she choked back her laughter. “All right, you two. Get out of my kitchen. Go!”

Sol took her by the shoulders and kissed her cheek. “You call me if you need anything.”

She kissed him back. “You’re a good brother.”





Chapter 45





MORT


The Box Brothers factory on Long Island was more than twice as big as the old one in Brooklyn. Mort and Abe had larger offices, but Mort still worked with his back to the door, facing the wall. The same wedding portrait of Rose was on his desk, and although Mort’s new office had a window, nothing other than a few coats of pale gray paint adorned the walls. A bookcase stacked with neatly labeled rows of brown ledger binders was built into the back right corner, and the left corner was solidly occupied by an ancient metal file cabinet. There was nothing else in the room.