“You won't come for Thanksgiving?” She hung out of the cab, crying at him again as he shook his head, and physically pushed her inside to her seat, in the guise of assistance.
“I can't. I'll talk to you when I get back from Paris.”
“I have to talk to you about the wedding.” She was hanging out the window and the driver was starting to snarl.
“There's nothing left to say. It's on December twenty-ninth, at Temple Emanuel, and the reception is at a little hotel she loves in Sausalito.” His mother would have asked him if she was a hippie but she didn't have time as Lou gave the driver the address of his office.
“I don't have anything to wear.”
“Go to the store and pick something you like. I'll take care of it for you.”
And then she suddenly realized what he had said. They were getting married at the temple. “She's willing to get married in temple?” She looked surprised. She didn't think Catholics did things like that, but she was divorced anyway. Maybe she'd been excommunicated or something like that.
“Yes. She's willing to get married in temple. You'll like her, Mom.” He touched his mother's hand, and she smiled at him, her eyes still damp.
“Mazel tov.” And with that, she pulled back into the cab, and they roared off thundering over the potholes, as he heaved a huge sigh of relief. He had done it.
Chapter 10
They spent Thanksgiving at Liz' apartment with Jane, and Liz' friend, Tracy. She was a pleasant woman in her early forties. Her children were grown and gone. One was at Yale and wasn't coming home for the holidays, the other, a daughter, was married and lived in Philadelphia. Her husband had died fourteen years before, and she was one of those cheerful, strong people whom misfortune had struck often and hard, and yet managed not to be a downer. She grew plants and loved to cook, she had cats, and a large Labrador, and she lived in a tiny apartment in Sausalito. She and Liz had become friends when Liz had first begun to teach, and she had helped her with Jane frequently during those first difficult years when Liz was saddled with a very young child and no money. Sometimes she babysat for her just so she could scrape a few dollars together and go to a movie. And there was nobody happier than Tracy over Liz' sudden good fortune. She had already agreed to be matron of honor at the wedding, and Bernie was surprised at how much he liked her.
She was tall and spare and wore Birkenstock shoes, and she came from Washington State, and had never been to New York. She was a warm earthy person, totally foreign to his more sophisticated ways, and she thought he was the best thing to have ever happened to Liz. And he was perfect for her. Perfect in the way her husband had been before he died. Like two people carved from the same piece of wood, made to fit, made to blend, made to be together. She had never found anyone like him again, and she had stopped trying a long time since. She was content with her simple life in Sausalito, a few good friends, and the children she taught. And she was saving money to go to Philadelphia to see her grandchild.
“Can't we help her, Liz?” Bernie asked her once. It embarrassed him to drive an expensive car, buy expensive clothes, give Liz an eight-carat diamond ring and Jane a four hundred dollar antique doll for her birthday when Tracy was literally saving pennies to see a grandchild she had never seen in Philadelphia. “It's just not right.”
“I don't think she'd take anything from us.” It still amazed her to no longer have to worry, although she was adamant with Bernie that she would take no money from him before the wedding. But he was burying her in extravagant presents.
“Won't she at least take a loan?” And finally, unable to stand it any longer, he had broached the subject with Tracy after they cleared the table on Thanksgiving. It was a quiet moment while Liz put Jane to bed, and he looked at her as they sat by the fire.
“I don't know how to ask you this, Tracy.” In some ways, it was worse than battling his mother, because he knew how proud Tracy was. But he liked her enough to at least try it.
“You want to go to bed with me, Bernie? I'd be delighted.” She had a wonderful sense of humor and her face was still that of a very young girl. She had one of those fresh, clear-skinned, blue-eyed faces that never grew old, like old nuns, and certain women in England. And like them, she always had dirt under her nails from her garden. She often brought them roses, and lettuce and carrots, and tomatoes.
“Actually, I was thinking of something else.” He took a deep breath and plunged in, and a moment later she was in tears and silently reached out to him and held his hand tight in her own. She had strong cool hands that had held two children and a husband she loved, and she was the kind of woman one wished had been one's mother.
“You know, if it were something else …like a dress, or a car, or a house, I'd turn you down flat…but I want to see that baby so much … I'd only take it as a loan.” And she insisted on traveling standby to save him money. And finally, unable to stand it any longer, he went to the airlines himself, bought her a business-class ticket on a flight to Philadelphia, and they saw her off the week before Christmas. It was their wedding gift to her, and it meant everything to her. And she promised to be home on the twenty-seventh, two days before the wedding.
Christmas was hectic for all of them. He managed to take Jane to see Santa Claus at the store, and they celebrated Chanukah too that year. But they were so busy moving into the new house that everything seemed doubly hectic. Bernie moved into it on the twenty-third, and Jane on the twenty-seventh. Tracy came back that night and they picked her up at the airport, and she just beamed, and cried as she hugged all three of them and told them about the baby.
“He's got two teeth! Can you beat that at five months!” She was so proud that they teased her all the way home, and took her to their new house to show her their progress It was a cute little Victorian on Buchanan, teetering on a hill, right near a park where Liz could take Jane after school. It was exactly what they wanted, and they had rented it for a year. Bernie was hoping they'd be gone before that, but the store could buy out his lease if they had to.
“When are your parents coming in, Bernie?”
“Tomorrow night.” He sighed. “It's like waiting for a visitation from Attila the Hun.” Tracy laughed. She would be grateful to him for a lifetime for the trip he had given her, and he had absolutely refused to make it a loan.
“Can I call her Grandma?” Jane asked with a yawn, as they sat in their new living room. It felt good to be living under one roof finally, and not running around between three places.
“Sure you can call her Grandma,” Bernie answered casually, silently praying that his mother would let her. And a little while later, Tracy took her car out of their garage and drove home to Sausalito, and Liz climbed into their new bed in their new house and put her arms around Bernie's neck. She was snuggling up next to him when they heard a small voice next to the bed and Bernie jumped a foot as Jane tapped him on the shoulder.
“I'm scared.”
“Of what?” He was attempting to look very proper as Liz lay under the covers and giggled.
“I think there's a monster under my bed.”
“No, there's not. I checked the whole house before we moved in. Honest.” He tried to look sincere, but he was still embarrassed to be caught in bed with her mother.
“Then it got in afterwards…. The moving men brought it.” She sounded genuinely upset and Liz emerged from the sheets to look at her daughter with a raised eyebrow.
“Jane O'Reilly, you go right back to bed.”
But she started to cry instead and clung to Bernie. “I'm too scared.”
“What if I go upstairs and we check for monsters together?” Bernie felt sorry for her.