In the Unlikely Event (15 page)

Miri

Usually, January was the longest month, dragging on and on, the weather cold and dreary, school routine and boring, everybody’s noses runny, their throats sore. But this January everything was different. Mason called Miri every night, sometime between nine and ten o’clock, whenever he got a break at the bowling alley. If she’d finished her homework she might be watching TV at Irene’s with Rusty and Ben Sapphire, who sometimes slept over on Irene’s couch. Miri would leave the door between her house and Irene’s open so she
could hear the phone. When it rang she’d run up the stairs, pick up the phone and drag it by its long knotted cord under the bathroom door, locking it behind her. Then she’d sit on the edge of the tub in the dark, smelling Rusty’s bath salts—lavender, citrus, musk—listening to Mason’s breaths and her own, until she could feel him breathing into her ear right through the phone.

After they’d said goodnight, she’d turn on the bathroom light and look at herself in the mirror on the medicine chest. Her face was always pink and warm. She’d splash it with water to take away the blush. Then she’d flush the toilet for no reason except to announce she’d finished in case anyone was interested, return the phone to the hall table and run down the stairs to catch the rest of whatever TV show they’d been watching. Irene wouldn’t say anything. Neither would Rusty. But Miri was sure they’d had plenty to say while she was gone, unless it was Wednesday and they’d been watching Kraft Television Theatre. Then they wouldn’t have talked at all except during commercials.

—

EVERY OTHER SUNDAY NIGHT
Miri and Suzanne babysat for the Fosters, seven-year-old Penny and four-year-old Betsy. Mr. Foster managed an appliance shop on Route 22 and Saturdays left him too tired to go out. It was okay with Rusty and Suzanne’s mother as long as they had their homework finished and were home by ten-thirty. The girls liked it because it left them free on Saturday nights.

Mrs. Foster had an impressive collection of hand-knit cardigan sweaters to wear over crisp white shirts, and this night her cardigan was in a cobalt blue and had brass buttons. She wore the same shoes every time they babysat, black pumps with medium heels. She was usually easygoing but tonight she went over everything with Miri and Suzanne two or three times before leaving, while Mr. Foster, annoyed, checked his watch. She handed them lists with numbers of who to call in an emergency, including the Branford Theatre in Newark, where
Bright Victory
was playing, and the Weequahic Diner,
where they always stopped for supper after the movie. Mrs. Foster felt more secure knowing Suzanne’s mother was a nurse. And she liked having two of them babysit, not just because she got two for the price of one. She said it was a comfort to her.

“Let’s go, Jo!” Mr. Foster called.

Penny and Betsy loved that. “Let’s go, Jo!” they squealed.

Mrs. Foster didn’t find that funny. “I’ll be right there, Monty.”

“I’ll be right there, Monty,” the little girls sang, mimicking their mother.

“Stop that right now,” Mrs. Foster told them. And this time they did.

“Suzanne and Miri have heard the spiel before,” Mr. Foster called, tapping his watch.

“All right, Monty!” Mrs. Foster said. Then, quietly, to Suzanne and Miri, “Betsy has sniffles. It could be the beginning of something, or nothing. But check on her every half hour after she goes to sleep, okay?”

“Okay, sure,” Miri said and Suzanne nodded.

Mrs. Foster kissed Penny and Betsy. “You girls be good.”

“Joanne!” Mr. Foster called, and this time Mrs. Foster hurried to the door.

Once they heard the door close behind them Suzanne let out a sigh.

As soon as their mother was out of sight, the girls started racing through the house. Miri chased them, a game they loved. “Eeny, meeny, miney, moe, catch a tiger by the toe. Which little tiger will I catch first?” The girls shrieked until Miri caught one, then the other, carrying them back to the living room. When they calmed down Suzanne painted their toenails and Miri brought them milk and gingersnaps from the kitchen. Later, when they were in their twin beds, tucked in just so, Miri and Suzanne took turns reading to them from a stack of library books. Mrs. Foster had been a firstgrade teacher before the girls were born and stressed the importance of reading aloud to children.

After that, Suzanne turned on the radio, both girls took out the
homework their mothers thought they’d finished earlier and settled down on the living room floor.

Mr. and Mrs. Foster returned happy, holding hands. It must have been a good movie. Usually Mrs. Foster asked for details of how the evening had gone. But not tonight. Mr. Foster drove them home, each with $1.50 in her pocket, a bonanza! Now that the holidays were over, Miri was saving her babysitting money for her ninth-grade prom dress. She figured $15 would do it, including shoes. When Mr. Foster started humming a tune, Suzanne leaned close to Miri and whispered, “I’ll bet they went to a motel instead of a movie.”

This thought had never occurred to Miri. Why would a married couple go to a motel when they said they’d be at the movies? No, Miri didn’t believe it. She was sure Rusty would never do such a thing. Not that she was married. She didn’t even have a boyfriend. And Miri liked it that way.

Capricorn

Born on January 15, you are a natural leader and problem solver. You have the intelligence to understand any situation and the discipline to follow through in pursuing a solution. Coupled with the trait of great loyalty, it makes you respected by all who know you. There is no better friend to have than a Capricorn.

—

BY THE MIDDLE
of the month Fred knew Miri so well he’d jump up and down, barking, the minute he saw her. She’d scoop him up, letting him lick her face. Unless she had an after-school activity, she’d meet Mason at Jefferson High and walk him down to Edison Lanes. Then she’d deliver Fred to Phil Stein’s house, either walking all the way to Westminster or taking the bus if the weather was bad, hiding Fred inside her winter jacket, the way Mason had taught her. She loved having his little body next to hers.

Phil’s mother enjoyed Fred, so even if Phil wasn’t home it wasn’t
a problem. Mrs. Stein was glad to see Miri, and always invited her in, offering a Tastykake, or a piece of fruit, or even a sandwich. If Miri accepted, Mrs. Stein would have something to eat, too, just to keep her company, laughing about whatever new diet she was going to start the following Monday. She liked flipping through her family photo albums, pointing out pictures of her dog, Goldie, who had died over the summer. “This is Goldie as a puppy. And here she is as a sweet old girl. A whole lifetime in twelve years.”

In one photo Miri thought she recognized the girl in the green velvet dress from the Osners’ New Year’s Eve party. “That’s my niece Kathy,” Mrs. Stein said. “A wonderful girl. She’s a freshman at Syracuse.” So it
was
Kathy Stein from New Year’s Eve.

Mrs. Stein seemed lonely to Miri, especially when she talked about her children. “I miss my daughter. She’s away at college. University of Michigan. And next year, when Phil leaves, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Maybe you should get another dog,” Miri suggested.

“I’ve thought about that,” Mrs. Stein said, “but what would we do when we travel? My husband is hoping to spend more time traveling once both children are at college.”

“Where does he want to go?” Miri asked.

“Oh, he has some
meshuggeneh
idea about adventure, about exotic lands,” Mrs. Stein said, helping herself to a second Tastykake. “Maybe India. Maybe Israel. Frankly, I’d rather see California. I’m not sure my stomach could handle India. I have a sensitive gut. You know what that’s like.”

As far as guts were concerned, Miri knew only that certain foods, like raw tomatoes, triggered Irene’s heartburn, and when they did, she’d drink a glass of Alka-Seltzer.

“Anyway, my husband doesn’t want another dog. He’s afraid I won’t want to leave a puppy at the kennel when we travel. It’s true I never liked leaving Goldie, even when she was grown.” She sighed and looked out the window. “It feels like snow, doesn’t it?”

“I hope it does. I’d like to have fresh snow for my birthday.”

“Your birthday?”

“Yes, tomorrow. I’ll be fifteen on the fifteenth.”

Mrs. Stein brightened. “Fifteen on the fifteenth! That’s sure to be a lucky sign. You have to take every bit of luck that comes your way and turn it into something bigger, something lasting.”

Miri was mulling that over when Mrs. Stein touched her arm. “Come with me. I have something for you.”

“Oh, no, really…” Miri said.

“Oh, yes…really.” Miri had never seen Mrs. Stein so animated. Fred trotted up the stairs behind them to Mrs. Stein’s bedroom. Until then, Miri hadn’t seen much of the Steins’ house, which was on the fanciest street in town, where all the houses were big and old and set back from the street, surrounded by stately trees. She was familiar only with the back porch and the kitchen. But this—Mrs. Stein’s bedroom—was bigger than Miri’s living room and bedroom combined, with a chaise longue and two chairs grouped around a coffee table stacked with books and magazines spilling onto the floor, waiting to be read. At the other end of the room were two beds pushed together, attached to a single carved wooden headboard. Mrs. Stein disappeared into a walkin closet behind the bed and came out with a small white box tied with a slender pink satin ribbon. She handed it to Miri. “Happy birthday.”

Miri was embarrassed.

“Open it,” Mrs. Stein sang. Miri half expected her to clap her hands and jump up and down, she seemed so pleased.

Miri opened the box. Inside was a bracelet. Gold with—were they garnets, her birthstone? “But you can’t give this to me. You should save it for your daughter.”

“Her birthstone is opal,” Mrs. Stein said. “Mine is garnet, like yours. And I’ve got more garnet bracelets than I can count. I want you to have this one. It’s delicate, like you.”

Miri had never thought of herself as delicate and wasn’t sure she wanted anyone else to, either. She supposed that next to Mrs. Stein, with her ample bosom, wide hips and plump arms, she could seem delicate, but she wasn’t.

“Thank you,” Miri said. “It’s beautiful.”

“So are you,” Mrs. Stein said.

No one outside the family had ever told her that.

“Have a wonderful birthday.” Mrs. Stein leaned in and kissed her cheek.

Fred barked until Mrs. Stein turned her attention to him.

—

MIRI WAS ALMOST SURE
Rusty wouldn’t approve of Mrs. Stein giving her a gold bracelet with garnets, so at first she didn’t show it to her. But what was the point of having it if she could never wear it? That night she waited until after Rusty’s bath, when Rusty seemed relaxed and happy, humming to herself. “Mrs. Stein gave me a bracelet for my birthday. She said it doesn’t fit her anymore and she has more birthstone bracelets than she can possibly use.”

“Let me see that.” Miri passed her the bracelet. Rusty turned it over in her hand, studying it the way an appraiser might. “Which Mrs. Stein?”

“Phil’s mother. They live on Westminster.”

“Who is Phil?”

“Phil Stein. He’s Steve Osner’s best friend. He was at the New Year’s Eve party.”

“And what’s the connection between you and Mrs. Stein?”

“I drop Fred off at the Steins’ house a couple of days a week.”

“Fred?”

“Fred. Mason’s dog.”

Rusty breathed deeply through her nose. “So this is about the dog?”

“Yes. Mrs. Stein likes having Fred around. They had a dog, Goldie, but she died.”

“Does that make Mrs. Stein a better mother than me?”

“What? No.” This wasn’t going well.

“Mrs. Stein probably doesn’t go to business,” Rusty said.

“She doesn’t.”

“You see?”

Sometimes no matter what Miri said or didn’t say, Rusty acted as if it reflected on her as a mother. She should have told Rusty that
Mrs. Stein would like to work. That she’d like to be a librarian or a clerk at a bookstore. Instead she wound up saying what she thought Rusty wanted to hear. “You’re the best mother.”

“You’re just saying that so you can keep an expensive bracelet she had no right to give you.”

“I don’t care about the bracelet.”

“Good. Then give it back. It’s inappropriate for a stranger to give you such an extravagant gift.”

“She’s not exactly a stranger,” Miri muttered under her breath as Rusty walked away with the bracelet. Miri chased her down the hall. “Mom…”

“What?”

“You took the bracelet.”

Rusty handed it to Miri.

The next day after school she returned the bracelet. She didn’t want to offend Mrs. Stein. But as soon as she began, “My mother doesn’t think…” Mrs. Stein gave her a kind smile, a knowing smile, and took the box.

“Maybe I will give it to my daughter, after all.”

“I’m sure she’d like it.”

“She’s hard to please.”

“Even so.”

“Thank you, Miri.”

There. She’d done what she had to do. She would tell Rusty she’d returned the bracelet and she hoped that would satisfy her. Rusty could be moody but her bad moods rarely lasted.

—

BEFORE THE FAMILY
sat down to Miri’s birthday dinner, Rusty gave her a small box wrapped in blue paper and tied with a white ribbon. “Happy birthday, honey.”

Inside was a gold and garnet bracelet, not exactly the same as Mrs. Stein’s, but close enough. “It’s beautiful,” Miri said, slipping it onto her wrist.

“Now you see why…” Rusty began.

Miri hugged her mother. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to be sorry,” Rusty told her, smoothing her hair. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Miri would never know if Rusty had already bought her the bracelet when she showed her the one from Mrs. Stein, or if she went out and bought it that day. “It looks really pretty, doesn’t it?” She held up her arm for Rusty to admire.

Rusty smiled at her. “It does. It’s delicate enough to go with anything.”

Miri resisted the urge to laugh. At least Rusty hadn’t called
her
delicate.