Tracie Peterson (25 page)

Pierce tried to shrug off his father’s concerns. “You worry too much about me. I know what’s right and wrong. I won’t throw off my faith or be turned away from God.” He got to his feet. “I believe I’ll retire for the evening. I have a good book upstairs and I’d like to spend a bit of time in it before I go to bed.”

Dennison nodded. “Sleep well, and Pierce, it is good to have you home again.”

Pierce smiled. “It’s good to be home.”

Upstairs, comfortably planted in his favorite chair, Pierce picked up his book and opened to the marked page. He was just about to begin the fifth chapter when a knock sounded on his door. By the heavy-handed sound of it, Pierce was certain he’d find Eugenia on the opposite side.

“Come in,” he called, sitting up to straighten his robe.

“It’s a bit early for bed, isn’t it?” Eugenia asked rather haughtily.

“I thought I’d like to read for a while.”

“I see. Nevertheless, I’ve come to express my deep concern about our dinner conversation.”

“Concern?” Pierce closed the book and shook his head. “What possible concern could our dinner conversation have given you?”

Eugenia drew back her shoulders and set her expression of disdain as though it were in granite. “I simply cannot have the scandal of you being indiscreet with that Jewess.”

“I beg your pardon?” Pierce felt his ire rise and struggled to keep his temper under control.

“I could clearly read your mind and the interest you held for the Lewy girl. I must forbid it, however. I cannot imagine anything more sordid than you taking up with that … that woman.”

“Her name is Darlene and she is very pleasant to be around. And whether or not I hold any interest in her is none of your concern.” Pierce got to his feet and crossed the room. “Aunt Eugenia, I love you and care a great deal about your comfort, but I am a grown man and I will no longer tolerate your interference in my life. I left this house three years ago because of such discomfort and I will not be driven from it again.”

“Well! I’ve never heard such disrespect in all of my life. I’ve done nothing but see to your welfare. When my dear husband departed this earthly life, I knew it was my duty to help poor Dennison raise you children properly. If I instilled culture and social awareness in your life, then you will find yourself the better for it and not the worse.”

Pierce felt the heat of her stare and refused to back down. “Since you came to me with this matter, I am going to speak freely to you. I am certain Father appreciated the companionship and assistance you offered him with Constance. As you will recall, however, I was already a grown man of twenty-three when you came into this house. I need neither your care nor grooming to make my mark upon society, because I have no such plans for myself or society. These are things of importance to you, but certainly they do not concern me.”

“They concern the well-being of this family. Would you see your father’s reputation ruined because you chose to marry a Jewess?”

“Why must everyone assume I mean to marry the girl? I’ve only just met her and I thought she was a lovely creature with a fiery spirit.”

“So I’m not the only one to broach this subject, eh? Perhaps I’m not the lunatic you make me out to be.” Eugenia’s face held a smug regard for her nephew.

“I’ve never thought you to be a lunatic, Aunt Eugenia. Mettlesome and snobbish, yes, but never a lunatic.”

“Well!” It seemed the only thing she could say.

Pierce continued, “I will go to your charity balls and I will allow you to parade me before your society friends. I will use the proper silver and talk the proper talk. I will dance with impeccable skill and dress strictly in fashion, but I will not be dictated to in regards to the woman I will choose as my wife. Is that clear?”

“You have to marry a woman of your standing. To marry beneath your station will do this family a discredit. Then, too, imagine the complications of marrying a pauper. You must marry a woman of means and increase the empire your father has already begun.”

Pierce could take no more. He walked to the door and opened it as a signal to his aunt that the conversation was at an end. “I will marry for love, respect, admiration, and attraction, be that woman of Jewish heritage or not. I seem to recall the Word of God saying we are all the same in the eyes of the Lord, and that whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord will be saved. I realize the importance of marrying a woman who loves God as I do, and if that woman should turn out to be a Jewess who embraces Christianity and recognizes Christ as the true Messiah, I shan’t give her social standing or bank account a single thought.”

Eugenia stepped into the hall, clearly disturbed by Pierce’s strong stand. “You’d do well to remember the things of importance in this world.”

“I might say the same for you, Aunt. My father admonishes me to marry a woman of Christian faith, and that is clearly set in Scripture. By what means do you base your beliefs?” He closed the door without allowing her to reply and drew a deep breath. “I’ve only just met the girl,” he muttered to himself, “yet everyone has me married to her already.”

And it shall be, if thou do at all forget the L
ORD
thy God, and walk after other gods, and serve them, and worship them, I testify against you this day that ye shall surely perish.
D
EUTERONOMY
8:19

N
early a week after her encounter with Pierce Blackwell, Darlene felt herself getting back in the routine of her life. She could almost ignore the image of the handsome man when he appeared in her daydreams, but it was at night when he haunted her the most. And in those dreams, Darlene found that she couldn’t ignore the feelings he elicited inside her. Never in her life had she given men much thought. Her father urged her to seek her heart on the matter and to find a decent man and settle down. He spoke of wanting grandchildren and such, but Darlene knew that down deep inside he was really worried about her, should something happen to him.

“Tateh,” she called, gathering on her coat and warm woolen bonnet. “I’m leaving to go to Esther’s.”

Abraham peered up from his cutting board. “You should not go out on such a cold day.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s just down the street. You worry too much.” She smiled and held up a bundle. “We’re making baby clothes for Rachel Bronstein.” Her father nodded and gave her a little wave. “I’ll be back in time to dish up supper. Don’t work too hard.”

She hurried out of the building, firmly closing the door that stated “Lewy & Co.” behind her. It was a brisk February morning and the skies were a clear, pale blue overhead. The color reminded Darlene of watered silk. Not that she ever had occasion to own anything made from such material, but once she’d seen a gown made of such cloth in a store window.

The sky was a sharp contrast to the muddy mess of the streets below. Gingerly, Darlene picked her way down the street, trying her best to avoid the larger mud holes. The hem of her petticoats and skirt quickly soaked up the muck and mud, but she tried not to fret. No one at Esther’s would care because their skirts would be just as messy as hers.

The noises of the street were like music to her ears. Bells ringing in the distance signaled the coming of the charcoal vendor. She’d not be needing him to stop today, and so she only gave him a brief nod when he passed by.

“Fresh milk! Freeeesh milk!” another man called from his wagon. Cans of milk rattled in the wagonbed behind him and Darlene grimaced. She had never gotten used to what she deemed “city milk.” It wasn’t anywhere near as rich as what she’d been used to in Germany. Rumor had it that dairymen in the city were highly abusive with their animals, and that not only were the conditions unsanitary and unsavory, but the cows were also fed on a hideous variety of waste products. Vegetable peelings, whiskey distillery mesh, and ground fish bones were among the things she’d heard were used to feed New York’s dairy cows. Even thinking of such a thing made her shudder.

A young boy struggled by with bundles of wood over each shoulder. “Wood, here! Wood!” Behind him another boy labored to entice a mule to bring up the wood-ladened cart.

All around her, the smells of the city and of the working class made Darlene feel a warmth and security that she couldn’t explain. She thought of the people who lived in their fine brick houses on Broadway and wondered if they could possibly be as happy as she was. Did fine laces and silks make a home as full of love as she had with her father?
Certainly not,
she mused and jumped back just in time to avoid being run over by a herd of pigs as they were driven down the street.

Let the rich have their silks and laces. Her life with Tateh was sweet and they had all that they needed—the Holy One, blessed be He! But in the back of her mind Darlene remembered her father’s conversation with Dennison Blackwell and then her own with Pierce. It was as though another world had suddenly collided with hers. Pierce knew what it was to live in fine luxury. He could have figures in his head with complete ease, and he was more than a little bit handsome.

Esther’s tiny house came into view. It was there, tucked between a leather goods shop and a cabinetmaker, and although it was small, it served the old widow well. Trying to scrape the greater portion of mud from her boots, Darlene gave a little knock at the door.

A tiny old woman opened the door. She was dressed in black from head to toe, with nothing but a well-worn white apron to break the severity. Her gray hair was tightly wound into a bun at the back of her neck, leaving her wrinkled face to stand out in stark abandonment. “Ah, Darlene, you have come. Good. Good. I told Rachel and Dvorah you would be here.”

“The streets are a mess. If you take my things, I’ll leave my boots here at the door.”

“Nonsense!” Esther declared. “The floor will sweep. Come inside and sit by the fire. You are nearly frozen.” The old woman led her into the sitting room. “See Rachel, our
Hava
has come.”
Hava
was Darlene’s Hebrew name.

Rachel, looking as though she were in her eleventh month of pregnancy, struggled up from her chair and waddled over to Darlene. Bending as far over as she could to avoid her enormous stomach, Rachel kissed Darlene on each cheek and smiled.

“I was afraid you would be too busy. Hayyim told my husband the shop is near to bursting with customers.”

“Yes, the rich
goyim
have come to extend their social season wardrobes. They won’t have us at their parties, but they wear our suits!” Darlene said with much sarcasm.

“Who would want to go to a Gentile party, anyway?” Esther said, taking Darlene’s coat. “You couldn’t eat the food.”

“Feh!
Kashruth
is such a bother anyway! We’d just as well be rid of it, if you ask me,” a dark-headed woman said, entering behind Esther.

“Ah, but what does God say about it, Dvorah?”

Dvorah was much more worldly than the rest of the woman Darlene knew. Her father was a wealthy merchant and could trace back a family history in New York nearly one hundred years. Nevertheless, they were Jewish and no matter how liberally they acted among the Gentiles, they would never be accepted as one of them.

“I leave God’s words to my father’s mouth,” Dvorah replied, swishing her lavender gown with great emphasis. “I’m much busier with other things.” She smiled sweetly over her shoulder before picking up her sewing.

“We all know what Dvorah is busy with,” Esther said in a disapproving tone. “And I tell you, it is an honest shame to watch a young woman of your upbringing chase after the men the way you do. You need to refrain yourself from acting so forward, Dvorah. Your mother,
oy vey!
What she must go through.”

Dvorah shrugged, indifferent to Esther’s interfering ways. Darlene saw this as a good opportunity to change the subject. “So, Rachel, how are you feeling?”

By this time Rachel had waddled back to her chair and was even now trying to get comfortable. “I’m fine. Just fine. The baby should come any day and since you’ve been so good to help me sew, he will have a fine assortment of clothes to wear.”

“What ‘he’?” Esther questioned. “So sure you are that the child is a male?”

Rachel blushed and Darlene thought she looked perfectly charming. “Shemuel says it will be a boy.”

Esther grunted. “Your husband doesn’t know everything.”

“May God make it so,” Darlene proclaimed.

The women worked companionably for several hours and when the hall clock chimed noon, Esther offered them something to eat and drink. They were gathered around the table enjoying a fine stew when Esther brought up the one subject Darlene had hoped to avoid.

“So how is it with your father?”

“He’s well, thank you.” She slathered fresh butter on bread still warm from Esther’s oven and took a bite.

Esther narrowed her eyes and leaned forward. “I’ve heard it said that he’s talking matters of God with the
goyim.
”

How Esther managed to know every private detail of everyone’s life was beyond Darlene, but she always managed to be right on top of everything. She swallowed hard. “My father has many customers and, of course, they speak on many matters.”