Too Jewish (33 page)

Axel shut himself up in there for two days after the funeral. He came out for meals and to go back to his hotel room. He was like a surgeon who would report to the family in the waiting room, telling us how he was doing. "Bernie was a fine businessman," he said. "His records are in perfect order." Later, he told my mother, "You can keep the company going, or you can liquidate; it's workable for someone." My mother had been walking around cleaning the house like she was going to have an inspection or something. She scrubbed baseboards and took down curtains and found crumbs in dark corners. She couldn't stop moving, and she couldn't eat a bite. At night all the lights were on, and when the curtains were down she was surely visible from the street, spraying Windex on glass that was really dirty on the outside. People we didn't know brought food we didn't eat. The Hirsches sent flowers. "Even I know that Jews don't send flowers," my mother said. "Linda Hirsch is a murderer," I said.

After three days, Axel told my mother she needed to start thinking. "What do you imagine I do when I'm all over the place?" she said.

I was at the dinner table with them. My mother was having toast. She'd figured out she could get toast with a little butter down. So Axel said, "I can give you two options. But I'm sure there are many others. Look, you know the life insurance is small because he killed himself. It'll carry you for a while. So would the business if you sold it. But if you have to support yourself and Darby, either you continue the business or you find a job. And I'm happy to offer you a job with my company anywhere you want to go that I have an office."

"That's great," I said. All I could think was that we could leave tomorrow, and I wouldn't have to go back to Newman.

My mother gave me a disbelieving look. "Your daddy stayed here mostly because of you," she said.

"Please don't tell me that."

Axel defended me. "Letty, he stayed here because of you."

My mother slammed down her sad little piece of toast. "Please don't say that like it's an accusation." She got teary-eyed, which she could do for no reason at all those days.

"Hey, he loved you," Axel said. "Remember?"

Now she really got teary-eyed. "That's even worse," she said.

* * *

That evening, Grammy called, and I could tell from my mother's side of the conversation that she was asking if Axel had left yet because she wanted to come over. "Well, at least we have enough fancy food to serve her," my mother said when she hung up.

I didn't have homework, of course, having refused to go back to school until someone figured out that it was time to transfer me to any other school on the planet. So I plopped right down in the living room and started in on the cookies my mother put out for show for Grammy. Never mind that they came from one of Grammy's friends because my parents' friends didn't believe in social amenities. "My time's worth more than a tray of cold cuts," I heard Shirley say.

"Your father and I want to tell you that as always we're aware of your situation, but this time we know we can offer you help and we won't run up against any resistance," Grammy said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mama said, knowing full well what it meant.

"We just mean we can help you out financially without having to worry about hurting anybody's feelings, and you know we've always tried to be sensitive about hurting feelings."

"You mean Bernie's dead so he can't complain," Mama said.

Grammy rolled right past that one. "We mean that you've lost your husband and have no means of support, and we're concerned about you."

"Why did you have to wait until Axel went back to the hotel?" Mama said.

"Because it's none of his business," Grammy said.

"He's Daddy's
business
partner," I said.

"Don't you have homework?" Grammy said.

My mother gave me a look that told me not to mention anything about school. I told Grammy no, just no.

Grammy offered my mother free and clear ownership of our house plus a monthly allowance plus Newman tuition plus Rena plus a car for me.

"Is this what you think I need?" my mother said.

"This is what you've always needed."

My mother exhaled. I knew what she said next would mean everything to her and nothing to my grandmother. "No, thank you. What I've always needed was love and respect," she said.

Grammy got all tight-lipped and angry. "With all I give you, that's what
I
should have gotten."

Mama shook her head the tiniest bit, with sadness, with hopelessness, but also with freedom. Her shoulders completely relaxed. "Okay, I think I finally understand."

Something in my mother's tone must have alarmed Grammy. "I know you're a little upset," she said, "and I won't hold that against you."

When my mother let her out the front, she leaned against the closed door and said to me, "Darby, as unhappy as I am, I just got a wonderful gift. It's like your father was taking care of me."

* * *

The next morning, before I was awake, my mother went over to Newman. When I woke up, she was back with all my books and notebooks. "At least I've made one plan," she said. Newman had agreed to let me do school from home for the rest of the year. I would turn in my homework and tests, get my grades, study from the books, get notes from Carolyn. A boy in the twelfth grade was being paid to drop everything off every afternoon.

My mother wasn't exactly on the board of directors or a major donor. "I hope to hell Grammy didn't set this up," I said.

"Some things are more powerful than money," my mother said.

"Not at Newman."

"Oh, yes, at Newman."

My mother had uttered two magic words.
Times-Picayune.

I looked at her for a minute, trying to process. Then I got it. At least for this year, Linda and Meryl and Susan were Newman girls, and what they did wouldn't look good for Newman in the paper. Especially Meryl. Her daddy gave a lot of money.

* * *

Axel stayed in New Orleans a total of six days. He said he was here to listen until we heard ourselves. My mother didn't fall in love with him, not at all, but she did fall into recognition with him. "God, what I did to Bernie," she said in the first few days. Axel soothed her, reminded her that Daddy was a man who made choices. Slowly he let my mother learn that she, too, made choices, and she made choices by staying still. I watched him sit back while my mother got herself thoroughly mixed up in her mind with my father. And that's where Axel let her rest.

"So if Bernie was here now, what would you do?" Axel said.

That was easy for my mother the day after she gave up on pleasing my grandmother. She would tell him it was time to move away from here. We would all be together, and that would be enough.

Axel sat back and let her hear herself. He let her think of us together, let her dwindle it down to the two of us who were left, her freed of her parents' judgments, me with no one but her.

Now she had her dignity. She had told her mother no.

"You have a lot of places you could live," Axel was brave enough to say on the fifth day. "I have businesses everywhere. Forget New Orleans as an option. I'm talking places where you could work for someone else."

My mother sounded scared to death. "I could work for you."

"You could work for me."

I swear I could see my mother grow up at that very second. She actually filled out.

On the fifth day they talked about New York. I sat nearby doing my geometry in thirty minutes when ordinarily it would have eaten two hours out of my day. New York wasn't like New Orleans, a small town. New York meant a lot of possible personalities. My mother decided she'd like to be a downtown girl because she wanted me to be a downtown girl. Downtown signified that we were leaving Uptown New Orleans. And downtown in New York connoted that. "Oh, I have one girl working for me, her rent's fifty-seven dollars a month in the Village," Axel said. "Now it's a fifth-floor studio walkup, but it's a place." Greenwich Village was downtown. I'd heard of Greenwich Village.

"What's a studio?" I said.

"Not enough," Axel said, looking at the living-room furniture.

"Almost enough," my mother said.

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