Authors: Myles (Mickey) Golde
For dessert, Rosa offered them spumoni or Italian Ice. He got the ice and she the spumoni.
“Oh you’ll love this,” she insisted, offering him a taste of hers.
Spooning it into his mouth she watched his reaction with a bright smile.
He liked that she had fed him with her own spoon; a gesture that surprised him.
Offering her a bite of his ice, he told her about his plans to go to Roosevelt College after graduation and the tie business he was starting.
“What kind of tie business?” she wanted to know, raising her eyebrows.
“You know, neck ties. I want to set up tie racks in dry cleaning stores and put ties in on consignment. I think it’s a good way to make money while I go to school.”
“Consignment?” she queried.
“You know, the storekeeper only pays for what he sells. If he doesn’t sell anything, I don’t make any money.”
“Oh, I Iike that. I bet you’ll do okay.”
She asked several more questions until he had explained almost everything about the business.
“You’re really interested?” he laughed, excited that she liked the idea.
Darlene nodded, placing her hands on the table as she tucked in her lower lip and looked into his eyes. Sensing she wanted to say something serious, he leaned back as she quietly told him about graduating from Roosevelt on a Friday at the end of January and going to work the following Monday.
“I really wanted to go to college, but there was no way my parents could afford to send me. I thought about going to junior college in the city, but even then, I don’t think my folks could afford to support me any longer.”
He nodded, “Yeah, I can understand that,” he murmured, thinking about how he was working to pay for school.
They pulled onto Dickens Avenue around nine-thirty and parked down the block from her building so they could continue talking. Two hours later, Darlene glanced at her watch and put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my God, it’s late! My mom is gonna be worried.”
He walked her to the door and as they entered the hallway, he pulled her close and said, “You know something? I think I’m going to marry you,” followed with a soft kiss of her lips.
Looking at him in the dark, she smiled and answered, “That’s some line, especially from a seventeen-year-old guy on a first date.”
Reaching up she kissed his cheek, cocking her head coyly to the side and murmured, “you’re a little crazy, but I think I might hold you to that promise.”
Starting to run up the stairs, she stopped, turned and said, “Good night, Victor, I had a really good time,” and then raced up the steps. He waited until her heard the third floor door close.
In the morning, he called her at work and they made arrangements to get together in the evening.
When he rang the bell that night, she invited him up. Climbing to the third floor, he dodged a few kids on the stairs. Darlene greeted him at the door.
“C’mon in, I want you to meet my mother.”
Entering the small hall with the parlor holding only a patterned couch, a matching easy chair and a new sixteen inch television off to one side and a darkened bedroom on the other, he followed her toward the kitchen. The dining room at the end of the hall was crowded. The table and chairs were off center to accommodate the studio couch along the wall opposite the windows. Mrs. Silverman met them at the entrance of the brightly lit room. A small woman with light brown hair, she had on a full apron over a dark dress. Smiling brightly, she used her forefinger to push her glasses up to the bridge of her nose.
“Excuse the way I look, I’m in the middle of baking some cookies, “she explained.
Returning her smile, he said, “They smell wonderful.”
“This is Victor Wayne, Mama.” Darlene smiled,
Vic nodded, while helping Darlene with her coat.
Retreating to the kitchen, Mrs. Silverman returned quickly with a plate of cookies still warm from the oven.
“Here, Victor, try this,” she offered, holding the plate out.
Darlene took two, splitting one, handing half to Vic and biting into the other half.
“You’ll love these; no one makes peanut butter cookies like my mother.”
You’re right, these are really good. Thanks Mrs. Silverman,” he said, smiling as he chewed.
Darlene wrapped the other cookie in a napkin and handed it to him. “For later,” she grinned and turned toward the door.
“Good night Mama,” Darlene said.
“Not too late, Darlene, you gotta’ work tomorrow. Nice meeting you, Victor,” she called out as they closed the door.
Descending the stairs they encountered a noisy group of kids bunched on the steps going to the vestibule. Vic stopped as the kids made a path for them to navigate.
“Hope you don’t mind if Darlene and I go out tonight,” he joked as Darlene giggled and introduced him.
All agreed it was okay. One of the bigger boys smirked, saying, “Have a good time.”
A little girl about eight, with long curly brown hair and big dark eyes, tugged at Darlene’s sleeve. “Is he your new boyfriend?” she wanted to know.
Darlene smiled. “Maybe, I’ll let you know later.” The kids giggled; a few got up and walked outside to see them get into the car.
As they pulled away, most of them waved. One of the boys shouted, “See you later, Vic.”
For the next two weeks they were together almost every night. Vic had never known a girl that got to him the way she did. She was beautiful and bright and her life was so much more interesting than the girls he knew from school.
“I’m working on the election this year, mailing out literature and making sure everyone in our precinct votes, “ Darlene volunteered one night over a grilled cheese sandwich at the Terminal Restaurant, “The Democratic Precinct Captain, Mr. Katz needed help and when my folks turned him down, I said I would step in. It’s great fun. I sure hope Truman wins. Mr. Katz wants me to promise I’ll stay in the organization and help him. I think being in politics is something everybody should be interested in. I love it.” She grinned as he laughed at her obvious enthusiasm.
“But let’s talk about you,” she said. “How do you feel about being Jewish?”
“I’m not religious and hardly ever go to temple, but I love our traditions and think it is important that we survive.”
“And what do you think about a Jewish State?”
Vic set down his fork and leaned across the table. “I’ve never been prouder of being a Jew now that it looks like Jews are going to have a real homeland in Palestine. The war and Hitler frightened me. Even though I was young, I would hear my folks and all the other grown-ups talking about the concentration camps and Jews that were being exterminated. It was scary.
“And then, later, when my brother Frank came home from the Army, he told me how he saw what had happened in Germany and the horrors of the camps. I know what it means when Jews say, never again.”
Darlene nodded. “What about kids? How will you raise them? I know I want mine to learn about being Jewish and to be Bar Mitzvah’d.”
“I agree. That’s another thing I like about being a Jew in America. Every one of us can decide what kind of Jew we want to be. We can be orthodox, conservative or reform. Or we can just acknowledge our heritage and follow all the laws and traditions in our own way. The important thing is that we can’t let anyone do what they did in the war to us, or anyone, ever again.”
“I think I want to be a little more religious than my folks, and learn more about our history and maybe learn all the prayers and observances that are important,” Darlene added softly.
They talked for over an hour about the importance of being Jews. Darlene couldn’t believe how serious it had become. Never had she talked to anyone this way. She found herself loving everything about him; he was smart and serious about the future, believed passionately in things that she believed were important, and being with him made her happy. The fact that every one of her girl friends who knew that she was seeing him quickly mentioned how good looking he was didn’t hurt either. She did wonder though, about his reputation, she’d heard he dated a lot of girls but never got serious.
Later, as they were walking to the door of Darlene’s building, Vic leaned to kiss her and asked, “What do you think we should do tomorrow?”
At that instant, the door opened behind them and Darlene pulled back, her hand covering her mouth as she shrieked, “Jack, what are you doing here?”
Vic turned around to see a thin man with a ragged crew cut holding open the door. “What do think I’m doing? So this is why you’re so busy,” he hissed grabbing her arm.
Vic reached in, pushing the man’s arm away and Darlene got between them, holding him back.
“Get the hell outta here,” the man growled. Vic’s fists clenched and he moved toward him.
Holding up her hands to Vic, Darlene pleaded, “Please Victor, wait outside and let me handle this. But promise me you’ll wait.”
She pushed him gently outside and turned into the hallway.
Vic looked at the two of them through the glass pained door and heard them talking back near the stairs, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. The man started to shout and Vic opened the door,
“Stay out, Victor,” she cried, waving him back. “Please wait, I’ve got to do this.”
He heard Darlene raise her voice and the man pleading. They now were on opposite sides of the small vestibule. For several minutes, he watched and heard muffled sounds. The man kept trying to come closer, but Darlene avoided him. He turned and sagged in a far corner and all was quiet. He saw Darlene wait and then go to him and put her arms around him, hugging his back. Finally, Jack slipped out of her embrace and walked out past Vic without looking his way. At the sidewalk, he turned back slowly, spitting out his words.
“Fuck you, you son of a bitch.”
Vic found her standing in the corner, with tears running down her face. He approached cautiously, taking her arms, not saying anything.
“I don’t think you will want to see me tomorrow,” she said, sniffling and looking down.
He pulled back, hurt. “Why?” he asked.
She held onto his arms as she looked directly into his eyes. Then after a moment, she replied softly, “That was Jack. We were going to get engaged soon.”
Before he could speak, she said, “Victor, I know I should have said something, but I was so overwhelmed by you and by us. I couldn’t believe you could like me.”
Waiting for a reaction from him, which didn’t come, she went on, “Jack and I have been going together for over two years and he wants to marry me. I love him but wasn’t sure I was ready to marry him. Then you came along and everything got crazy.”
“I had heard about you and how you dated so many girls and I was frightened that you would drop me. Now, because of us, I know I can’t marry Jack. I feel very guilty and can’t keep lying to him.
Or you
.”
She stopped for a moment and with a shy, hesitant grimace, continued. “Even my mother has told me that I have to be fair to him and I know she’s right. I’m sorry, Victor; I didn’t want to lie to you either, but these last two weeks have been the happiest and most exciting of my life. I think I
love you
.”
Without thinking, he put one arm around her, lifting her chin with his other hand, “Look Darlene, I don’t know yet if I love you, but being with you has been great. You are everything I think I could ever want in a girl. I’m only seventeen, and you’re right, I’ve known a lot of girls, but I’ve never felt like this.”
Then, looking directly into her eyes and cracking a smile, he said, “So what are we doing tomorrow? I think we have some unfinished business, lady. I couldn’t let someone with as cute a behind as you get away.”
Darlene squeezed him tight, then kissed him lightly on the lips and started to run up the stairs. But before reaching the first landing, she turned around and came back down, whispering ever so softly, “Victor Wayne, I really do love you. Let’s do something special tomorrow. Will you come to dinner I want my father to meet you. All of a sudden, I feel wonderful.”
Howie Rabin and Alice Friedman, were at the front of a short line waiting for a table at the Town Pump. They had just seen the movie, “Gentleman’s Agreement” at the Granada.
The hostess, her back to them, wiped perspiration from her forehead, exposing under arm stains on her silky white blouse. Using a menu, she pointed to a busboy cleaning the third booth along the wall on the right and two couples who were working their way to the front from a booth in the rear of the long narrow restaurant. “That booth they’re coming from is yours,” she said, turning to them and adding, “it’ll only be a minute.”
Alice, slim-hipped and tall, with a barely discernable bust, flipped her long hair as she turned toward Howie to see if it was okay. He nodded. They had met two weeks before at a twenty-first birthday party for his friend Sherman Weiss. Alice had been invited by Sherman’s sister Sylvia, a friend and classmate of hers, also entering her senior year at Von Steuben. At the party, Howie had teased her into sharing some punch with a slug of bourbon he supplied from a bottle he found in the pantry. He also gave her a ride home and she hadn’t seemed to mind when he ran a hand over her breast as he kissed her good night. He called the following week and asked her to the movie.
He cupped her butt as they bumped in the line and she turned abruptly, rolling her eyes. He shrugged and smiled.
“All the way here, I’ve been talking about the movie and you didn’t say anything. You didn’t even tell me if you liked it.”
“Are you kidding,” she exclaimed, leaning back, eyes open wide, “I loved it. It’s not often you see something in the movies as serious as that. And Gregory Peck was really good. In fact, you look a little like him, tall and dark haired. Of course, he looks older.”
“Yeah sure; I wish I had his dough,” Howie chuckled.
Alice looked away, waving and smiling as Shirley Siegal with a short, dark- haired boy with glasses came toward them on their
way out
.
“Hi Alice,” the boy mumbled as they stopped and he stood with his hands in his pockets.