The Dressmaker's Son (30 page)

EPILOGUE

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Rebekah sat on the
sofa in her living room hemming Rachael’s dress for Sammy’s Bar Mitzvah.  It
had been five years since she returned to America and, although she had come
back to the loss of her mother, Rose, and her nephew, Solomon, life had been
good to her.

            Mrs. Weiss had invited
her and Samuel to come back and live with her again.  She had some concerns
about how Samuel was adjusting.  Although he was doing well in his classes, he
spent a lot of time doing what he called research in the library. He was pretty
much a loner spending time only with Joshua with whom he felt comfortable.  But
she had to earn a living for them so she accepted Martin Weissman’s offer to
start designing gowns and dresses for Bloomingdale’s again.  She had not lost
her touch. Her designs won praise from the Bloomingdale’s team and the
customers, and her work was reviewed and featured in all the upper-end woman’s
magazines and the fashion sections in the newspapers.

            She remembered when she
first saw Martin again on the day of Solomon’s memorial service. That was all
they could have as no remains were sent back to America at that time.  He had
come back to Jacob and Rachael’s home.  This was very typical in the Jewish
culture. Women would stay at the home and fix the food to set out on the tables
so that when everyone came back it would be ready.  They would also cover all
the mirrors and get boxes for people to sit on.  Additionally men would not
shave or go to work.  This lasted for seven days.  During that period people
continued to bring food to the family.  Excluded from the seven days was
Shabbat on Friday night and Saturday.  That was a time for reflection, the
rekindling of hope.

Rebekah was
standing at the table where wine and some schnapps had been set out.  Sammy
stood at her side holding her around the waist while she sipped a glass of
wine.

            “Rebekah,” Martin
almost whispered when he approached her.  Showing little restraint, he reached
around her neck with both arms and gave her a big hub. “I’m so happy to see you
back safely with your son.”

            Rebekah could feel the
relief in his body.  When they separated, she looked down at Samuel. “This is
Mr. Weissman, Sammy.  Mama used to work for him before I came to get you.”

            “You mean Martin
Weissman, Mama?” he responded as he put out his hand to shake Martin’s.

            Martin knelt down to
Sammy’s height and shook his hand. “Yes, Sammy, I’m Martin. How do you know my
name?”

            “When it was really
cold out, Mama would say, ‘Thank God for Martin.’ One day I asked her who
Martin was and she told me how you gave her a coat and boots to keep her warm
while she was in Russia. That was very nice of you to help my mama. I am glad
to meet you.”

            “The pleasure is mine,
Sammy.  Everyone at Bloomingdales was hoping for your mama’s and your safe
return.”

            Rebekah interrupted.
“Why don’t you go have some food, Sammy? You must be starving. I see Cousin
Joshua by the table. He is the one with the blue suit and green tie. Ask him to
help you, okay?”

            Sammy nodded and
started to walk away. He turned back to Martin, “Thank you again for helping my
mama.  Maybe she will work for you again.”

            “I certainly hope so,
Sammy, when the time is right.” Sammy turned and headed for the food table. He
wasn’t really positive who Cousin Joshua was, but he headed for the blue suit
and green tie. Rebekah saw them strike up a conversation.

            “He is an amazing
child, Rebekah. It is difficult to believe he is only eight and has such
maturity.”

            “He has been through a
lot, Martin.  Someday maybe we can have lunch and I will tell you about it.  After
all, you’re a big part of our family now.  Who knew I would make you a courier,
carrying letters from a kidnapper and a murderer to her family.”

            Martin smiled. “I’m
intrigued.  I’d like to hear it when you are ready.”

            “I need to spend some
time with Rachael and her family. They have suffered so much pain since moving
to America.  And yet, you can see they are survivors.  They will be okay. 
Actually, they love America and will continue to better themselves.  My papa
used to say that God never gives us more than we can handle.  And he always
added, ‘And we have strong shoulders.’

            “Now I must go and help
and visit with our other guests. It was wonderful to see you, Martin. I look
forward to getting together soon.”

            “Whenever you are
ready, Rebekah, I’ll be waiting.”

            The people kept
coming.  Rebekah had no idea what an influence Rachael and Jacob had had on the
community.  Many were from the synagogue; some were neighbors; and some were
customers who had fallen in love with the warm couple and their children who
made them feel so welcome in their store.  As the platters emptied, women from
the kitchen kept refilling them and bringing fresh coffee and water for tea.

            Finally the evening was
over and everyone had left.  Rachael was sitting on the couch with a cup of tea
on her lap.  Rebekah sat down next to her, carrying her own tea.

            Rachael turned to her, “I
see you, but I can’t believe you’re here.”

            Rebekah took both their
teacups and put them on the coffee table in front of them.  Then she held
Rachael tight. “Me either.  I never gave up hope of coming home with Sammy, but
there were times I wondered how long would it take.  I tried to write, but it
was dangerous, especially at the end. I’ll tell you all about it when there is
time.  And I need to hear all about Kathleen and baby Rose.”

            “That is a whole story
unto itself.  He was so happy with her.  It was like when Jacob and I met and
knew we would be married one day.”

            Question after question
arose and they talked till dawn.  Jacob came in once to tell them that they
were putting Sammy to bed with Gabe for tonight.  “You girls can have the
bedroom this one night. Tomorrow, we will do some rearranging for Rebekah.” He
pulled Rebekah up off the couch and gave her his famous bear hug.  “Welcome
home, sister,” he told her. “Your timing was perfect.” Then he bent down and
kissed Rachael. “I love you my Rose.”

“I love you, too,
my Jacob,” she replied. It was a little ritual they had been doing at night
since they first married. Rebekah smiled thinking how lucky they were to have
each other. Somehow she would help them get through this.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

            As I’m sure it is for
most first authors, when I completed “The Dressmaker’s Son” I felt as though I
had given birth to another child.  I started this story over twenty years ago,
wrote two chapters and then stopped.   About a year ago I decided to try again. 
It was as though the story had been waiting for me to let it out.  I committed
to writing at least a page a day and here it is!  I couldn’t have done it,
however, without the support of several people.

My husband,
Michael, and three sons, Garrett, Alan, and Robert, were sure I could do this. 
They never stopped encouraging me.  My “BFF” Rose Bock was a constant sounding
board and critic in the most positive way.  Emilee and Lindsay Meixner, my
great nieces, helped me so much in the early stages of research.  Thank you
also to Teresa Schaefer who helped me design the cover.  And my wonderful
readers whose constructive criticism made the book better.  So thank you to
Chris Howard, my daughter-in-law Alexandra Lioutikoff, Myrna Teck, Judy Appel, and
several others along the way whose names elude me so I ask their forgiveness. I
blame some of this on the chemo I have had and continue to take.

 Very special
thanks to my editor Shana Kelly.   When she first returned eight single spaced
pages of edits, I thought maybe she had read a different book, but her
thoroughness and amazing attention to detail really took “The Dressmaker’s Son”
to the next level.

And, of course,
Rose and Julius Sherman who did suffer through terrible pogroms and came to the
United States in steerage.  They did serve as the inspiration for this book.

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