Authors: Rona Jaffe
“Good.”
“Then you should get the papers within a week.”
“Good,” Adam said.
“Goodbye, then.”
“Goodbye.”
When the papers came they were all in order, and Adam signed them and arranged payment. The estate would be purchased as a corporation by all his children except Andrew. Each of them would have shares. Share and share alike. No one could sell his part except to another member of the corporation. In order to sell the entire estate there would have to be a unanimous vote, and the entire estate would have to be sold, not part of it. Thus, all Adam Saffron’s children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren forever and ever would be together. No part could separate without all. And when it was finished, in all its magnificence according to Adam’s dream, none of them would ever want to sell it or move away.
Jack Nature, Rosemary’s young man, was drafted, and Rosemary announced to Adam (not asked, but announced!) that they were going to be married immediately. Fortunately, Jack Nature was given an office job in the United States, so Adam was pleased that his youngest daughter was happily settled at last. He got out his blueprints and printed in the names of Rosemary and Jack on the house where he had already printed the names of Hazel and Herman. Basil would live with him and Etta in the mansion. It would be hard to find building equipment during the war, but who could find it better than a builder?
Adam was not worried that there would be a direct enemy attack on New York. He was old enough, had lived long enough, and knew enough to be sure about that. Their lives would go on as usual, as best they could. In the meantime he needed to appear with his and his children’s birth certificates in front of the government officials, to prove that they were all loyal American-born citizens of the United States, in order that his shipping business for the United States government could commence. He had made his children shareholders so that they could afford to buy Windflower, and live decently in the city as well now. He had all his children’s birth certificates among his private papers, but for himself he had to show his citizenship papers. Who knew from birth certificates where he came from? He was lucky he knew his real birthday. The government certainly was careful nowadays, but you couldn’t blame them. A slip of the lip could sink a ship. Adam didn’t mind the inconvenience. No one in his fine family had anything to hide.
EIGHT
Lavinia was a nervous wreck. When she tried to brush her hair the brush flew out of her hand. She bumped her knee on the corner of the dresser and nearly burst into tears although it hardly hurt and she never cried. But she wanted to be the first to get to Papa’s house for dinner tonight, before any of the others, because he had been to the government with all the children’s birth certificates—and Andrew and Basil—and she knew her birth certificate was different. Oh God, she prayed silently, biting her lip. Maybe neither of the boys had looked. Andrew was so worried about getting the government contract and all that money that he wouldn’t have anything else on his mind. Andrew was always a worrywart. The last thing on Andrew’s mind would be to pick up all their birth certificates and read them.
As for Basil, he had already seen his own birth certificate because he had needed it to take to the passport office when he got his passport that time he went to Europe, so a birth certificate held no mystery and no interest for him. He would be interested in making a good impression, better than Andrew, and he would be so concerned with his own appearance and manner that he wouldn’t think of anything else. No, she didn’t have to worry about Basil. Why then was she so nervous? It was silly, it was just silly.
She couldn’t make her fingers work fast enough, buttoning buttons and fastening snaps, and naturally she had to fight with Paris, who wanted to wear her school clothes instead of that nice jumper they’d just bought her. The child hated dressing up; she complained she was fat and her clothes were awful, which wasn’t true. She was a little too chubby, that was all, and her clothes were the prettiest the Chubbette line carried. Would you believe a child who got nauseated in a department store? Actually nauseated! It was a problem having a child with an inferiority complex about her looks. Paris was the most beautiful child in the entire neighborhood and the entire school, and everybody knew it. If they teased her about being fat it was just because they were jealous of her lovely face.
Lavinia and Jonah and Paris (in her new jumper) arrived at Papa’s house promptly at six. Melissa and Lazarus arrived with Everett a few minutes later. Basil was already there, of course. The fumes of leg of lamb drifted out from the kitchen. It was going to be Etta’s old standby again: lamb, oven-browned potatoes, green peas, and a store-bought cake. The only one who was delighted with this meal was Melissa, because leg of lamb was one of Lazarus’ favorite foods. Lazarus himself was not delighted; Lazarus was either annoyed or not annoyed, but never delighted, never grateful. Tonight Lazarus was not annoyed. Jonah hated lamb but was too polite to say so. He would eat everything you gave him, but put his foot down at the idea of pig. “I don’t eat porrrrk,” he would say, the word “pork” coming out as a sort of growl demonstrating his loathing and horror. Lavinia hadn’t kept kosher for a minute since she was married, and there was often bacon or boiled ham in the house, for Paris and the maid. Jonah didn’t have to eat it. If it was just sitting in the icebox it wouldn’t poison him.
Everyone was nice and sweet and normal. Everyone kissed everyone else hello. Basil didn’t seem any different. Lavinia decided he hadn’t seen her birth certificate and she was safe. She breathed a sigh of relief and started to unwind for the first time that day. As long as she was sitting there in that loved, familiar room, with Papa there, kind, strong, brilliant Papa, always planning things to make them happier, then everything would be all right. They all understood that he was waiting for the proper time to tell them what had transpired with the government deal, and that proper time would be when Etta removed herself to attend to some household chore. No one ever came out and said that they would not talk family business in front of Etta, but they all understood that it would be that way. She was not family.
Jonah and Lazarus were family. Herman was not family. Cassie, of course, was family. Jack Nature, being new, would have to prove himself before they decided whether or not he was family. In order to be family you had to have certain qualities of sensitivity, intelligence, understanding, and … class. That was it: quality.
Etta? Well, Etta. She could be married to Papa for a hundred years and they would all be as sweet as sugar to her, but she would never be family. Never. She had no class, she was not intelligent, and no one would ever believe that she had married Papa for love. Naturally, they didn’t think that he had married her for love either, but what he did was always excusable. He was entitled to do whatever he wanted to and they would make the best of it. He had been lonely. That was easy to make the best of.
Paris was begging Everett to play Chinese checkers with her, and finally he agreed and they went into the little back room behind Papa’s office, where Etta stored the extra sets of china and linens, and where the children were banished to play so they wouldn’t disturb everyone else. There were Chinese checkers and real checkers and backgammon and cards, both pinochle cards and regular decks. There were jigsaw puzzles and a card table to set them up on. You didn’t have to hear the children’s noise and they couldn’t hear you talk about business.
Etta went into the kitchen to supervise the final touches on their evening meal. Now they were just family and they could talk. Papa told them with pleasure that the government deal had gone very well. All their ships were needed, and there would be others for him to manage too. They would all make money. And this money would be spent for their shares in Windflower, to buy it, and then to build and furnish their houses in it.
They had all had time to get used to the idea of buying Windflower, but somehow it had all still seemed like a fantasy. It was so glamorous, so expensive. Now that the money was at their fingertips it seemed more real. Melissa was excited, but also a little frightened, because she had become more like Lazarus through the years, being so close to him, and now she worried about money too. Lazarus was glum. The thought of spending money always put him in a foul mood. Jonah was pleased because Papa was optimistic, and he too felt that the war would not touch America. Wartime was boom time for everyone. His stocks would go up. Lavinia was happy because they would all be together, but at the same time she was certainly not looking forward to sharing a house with Lazarus for the rest of her life. A lifetime of eating leg of lamb. Oh well, it would be a big house with big grounds and plenty of places to be alone if you wanted to be. She decided to be optimistic too.
She looked at Basil. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. He ought to be delighted. Ought … but Basil didn’t do what he ought to or think what he ought to. He was still a child.
Etta emerged from the kitchen to tell them to wash up because dinner was almost ready. They dispersed to the various bathrooms for their cleansing ritual. Basil followed Lavinia into the bathroom.
“It just doesn’t seem fair,” he said.
“What doesn’t?”
“Having to put all our money into that place. I don’t want to settle down yet. I was hoping to travel in the summertime, and now I’ll be stuck living with Papa and Etta.”
“Well, when you get married you’ll have your own house,” Lavinia said. She dried her hands neatly on the paper towels Etta always put out so they wouldn’t mess up her linen guest towels.
“That’s not what I meant. I’m not ready to settle down. Now I’m trapped. Why didn’t Papa ask me before he bought that place? That was really selfish.”
“Don’t you criticize Papa! Papa is never selfish. He’s always thinking of us and you know it, Basil.”
Basil imitated her voice, making it sound insufferably sanctimonious. “Don’t you criticize Papa!” He glared at her. “You’re not even my sister. You don’t deserve to have a share in that money. I saw your birth certificate today.”
So it was out. “I am so your sister.”
“Who was Polly?”
“Mama’s sister,” Lavinia murmured, humiliated. She didn’t even remember her. Why did she have to be blamed, be considered not part of the real family, when she didn’t even remember Polly? She only remembered Lucy. She was sure she loved Lucy more than any of them because she knew how precious a mother could be. None of
them
had lost one until they were adults, and then she had lost two.
“Then you’re just my cousin,” Basil said. “Like Ned and Fanny and …”
“You little twerp! We have the same father and I’m every bit your sister. You’re the last one to have a right to complain about what you’re given. You’ve been handed everything on a silver platter, and all you ever think about is yourself. If you didn’t have Papa for a father I’d like to see the kind of job you could get, you little ingrate.”
Basil’s stricken expression showed that she had smashed him properly, so Lavinia turned and strode out of the bathroom, leaving him standing there. What a terrible thing he had said to her! She would forgive him because he was her brother, and you had to forgive your brothers and sisters no matter how they wounded you, but she would never forget. Never, never would she forget what he had said to her. Adam Saffron’s children were special. She was one of Adam Saffron’s children, and she was the best of them. Whiny little Basil had better watch his step around her.
They all knew so little about her, really. None of them knew her thoughts, her fears, her dreams. To them she was the strong one, the one made of iron, the one they could go to with their problems and the one they hid their secrets from because they knew she was not afraid to criticize them when she felt they were wrong. But it was she who had the recurring nightmare that made her wake up damp and crying. It was she who dreamed night after night of Mama’s ghost wandering through the house moaning: “Where can I go now? Where is there a place for me?” Etta had taken Mama’s place in the house and now Mama’s ghost wandered through Lavinia’s dreams. How could Basil say she wasn’t one of them? None of them could be more one of them than she was.
Lavinia was proud of herself at dinner. She was calm and showed none of the turmoil that was inside her. She never said a word to Basil, but it was not obvious to anyone but Basil. She had taken her customary seat at Papa’s right hand, a seat she always got simply because she slithered into it a moment before anyone else could get it. Paris sat on the other side of her, as usual, with Jonah beside Paris. The child safely flanked by her parents. Paris was lucky to be an only child, having all the love of her parents, sharing with no one, and Lavinia intended to keep it that way. There would be no brother or sister for Paris, no other child who could ever be jealous of her or hurt her. Paris would have everything Lavinia had never had. Her life would be a paradise.
The Mendes family was the last to leave, as always: Jonah yawning, begging, “Come on, Lavinia, I have school tomorrow.” Paris was asleep on the sofa and they had to wake her up. Lavinia just couldn’t stand to leave before they all left; she didn’t want to miss anything.
They walked back to their apartment through the quiet streets.
“Hurry up, get washed and get into bed,” Lavinia told Paris briskly, as if it were her fault they were still up so late. “You have school tomorrow.”
As soon as Paris was safely out of earshot Lavinia told Jonah the horrible thing Basil had said to her. She always liked to think that Jonah couldn’t exist without her, but the truth was she couldn’t get along without him either. He was the only one who would understand and always be on her side. She went through the scene with Basil in Papa’s bathroom, every cruel word. Jonah was properly sympathetic and disgusted at such a display of lack of brotherly love.
“I’m afraid he’ll tell the others,” Lavinia said. “I’m sure he will. What will I do then?”