While We're Far Apart (34 page)

Penny winced. “I would feel funny snooping through his things.”

“Please? I’ll look in there myself if you don’t want to. I need to find Mama’s family. It’s important. Remember what Mr. Mendel said? We should search the whole world to find them.”

“I don’t know, Esther. You said your mother’s family didn’t want anything to do with her. Maybe it’s not such a good idea to look for them. They might turn their backs on you, too, and I would hate to see you and Peter get hurt.”

Esther hadn’t considered that. She had imagined herself running into their open arms, happy to be reunited at last. But by rejecting Mama, her grandparents had rejected her and Peter, as well. Even so, Esther wanted to know why.

“Wouldn’t you want to talk to your real mother and father if you could?” she asked Penny. “Even though they gave you away? Don’t you want to know why?”

Penny gazed into the distance, looking thoughtful. “Yeah, I guess I would,” she finally said. “But let’s put all this stuff away before we go rooting through any more closets.”

Esther closed the flaps on one of the boxes and shoved it back into the closet. When they had put the boxes away again, Esther led Penny into Daddy’s bedroom. Penny’s clothes took up a very small space in the closet, as if she knew that this room didn’t really belong to her and that she wasn’t staying forever. Or maybe Penny didn’t have very many things. Esther wondered where Mama’s clothes had gone. She couldn’t remember Daddy packing them up and taking them away, but he must have.

“Before we start,” Penny said, “let’s try to remember how everything looks so we can leave it the way we found it, okay? I don’t want to mess up any of your daddy’s things.”

“Okay. But I don’t think he’ll notice. He isn’t very neat.”

They moved his shoes and slippers out of the way and found a dust-covered box buried in the back of the closet. Esther pulled it out and yanked open the flaps, hoping to find what they were looking for – and found something even better.

“These things belonged to Mama!” Esther remembered seeing them on her mother’s dressing table. She pulled them out and examined them, one by one: her silver vanity set with the mirror, comb and brush, her perfume bottles and talcum powder.

“Daddy cleared off her dressing table after she died,” Esther said. “It was too hard to look at them every day and be reminded of her, he said. I’m glad he didn’t throw them away, though.” She lifted a perfume bottle to her nose and sniffed. Her mother’s scent brought tears to her eyes.

“You should have these, Esther. It’s not too hard to look at them now, is it? Wouldn’t your mother want you to have them?”

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to make Daddy sad again.” She remembered his reaction when she’d played Mama’s piano for him when he was home on leave. But Esther longed to have these small tokens of her mother.

Penny laid her hand on Esther’s shoulder. Her eyes looked soft in the dim light of the closet’s single light bulb. “You’re becoming a young woman now, you know. We should think about rearranging a few things.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, for starters, you and I could share this bedroom. Two girls together, you know? You would have more privacy than sharing a room with your brother.”

“Won’t he be lonely all by himself?”

“We could ask him. Let Peter decide. You’re not going to be a little girl forever. You’re growing into a woman. You and your friends will want privacy to talk about girly things.”

Esther didn’t have any friends. Only Jacky Hoffman and Mr. Mendel. Jacky kept inviting her to go to the movies with him, again and again, but she and Peter always had to go to their grandmother’s house on Saturday.

She returned to the contents of the carton and found a collection of Mama’s scarves and gloves and purses. Beneath one of Mama’s Sunday hats, Esther found the jewelry box that Daddy had given Mama for Christmas one year.

Esther glanced up at Penny before opening it. Ever since they’d found the carton of Mama’s things Penny had been sitting back, allowing Esther to look through it by herself. “Go ahead.” Penny nodded. “Open it.”

Inside were necklaces and bracelets that Esther remembered her mother wearing. Mama had never worn a lot of flashy jewelry like bangles and rings – just her wedding band and a pearl necklace and a few other simple pieces. The rest of her jewelry was for special occasions.

At the bottom of the jewelry box were three old black-and-white photographs. “This is Mama!” she said, examining the first one. “She looks a lot younger. I don’t know who these people are with her.” There was an older woman with snowy hair and two young men. Esther peered closely. It was hard to see their faces. Were they Mama’s boyfriends? Or did they look a little bit like Mama – her brothers, maybe?

In the second photograph, one of the young men from the first picture posed by himself. The third photo was a portrait of a stern-faced couple and three small children, two boys and a girl. Could the little girl in dark ringlets be Mama?

“This is so frustrating,” Esther said with a sigh. “I want to know who these people are and why Mama kept the pictures.”

“You should show them to your father when he comes home. He might know.”

There was one more item in the jewelry box, a small, black velvet bag with a drawstring. Esther untied the string and let the item drop into her palm. It was a small brass box with strange lettering on it.

“Let me see that,” Penny said, reaching for it. “This looks like the little box that Mr. Mendel has on his door, only smaller.”

“I wonder why Mama has it?”

“Mr. Mendel owns this apartment, right? Maybe it was on the door when your parents moved in, and your mother removed it.”

“I guess so,” Esther said with a shrug. She began putting her mother’s things back in the box, disappointed that they hadn’t found her birth certificate.

Suddenly Penny struck her forehead. “I’m such a scatterbrain! I just remembered seeing a drawer full of papers in the dining room. I was looking in the buffet for napkins and a tablecloth and saw a bunch of papers in the bottom drawer. I thought it was a funny place to keep papers.”

They left the contents of the closet strewn on the floor and hurried downstairs. Penny pulled the drawer all the way out of the buffet and set it on the dining room table. “See?” she said. “This looks like a copy of the lease for this apartment . . . and here are your old report cards . . . and look, Esther! Your birth certificate!”

She took it from Penny’s hand and sank onto a dining room chair to read it.
Father’s name: Edward James Shaffer. Mother’s name: Rachel Rose Shaffer. Maiden name: F ischer.

Esther stared and stared at it while Penny continued searching through the drawer. “Here’s their marriage license,” she said. Esther scanned the page with her. Rachel Rose F ischer had married Edward James Shaffer on June 10, 1930. Mama’s parents’ names were David F ischer and Esther F ischer.

Esther gaped in surprise. “Mama named me after her mother! She couldn’t have stayed mad at them or she never would have given me the same name, would she?” Seeing the names neatly typed on the official-looking document made Mama’s family seem real to Esther. She imagined them looking just like the couple in Mama’s photograph, only older. David and Esther F ischer. Her grandparents.

“Well, we know their names,” Penny said. “Now what? F ischer seems like a pretty common name.”

“We could ask Mr. Mendel what he thinks we should do.” Esther stood, ready to race downstairs to ask him.

“You should wait until tomorrow. Don’t bother him now. He might be resting.”

Esther sank back onto the chair with a sigh. Now that she was one step closer to finding her family, she didn’t want to wait.

“Hey, you have a birthday coming in another month,” Penny said, studying her birth certificate. “You’ll be how old? . . . Thirteen? How do you want to celebrate?”

“I don’t know.”

“How do you usually celebrate birthdays? Dinner at your grandmother’s house? A party with some of your friends?”

Mama had made birthdays fun when she had been alive, but nobody had celebrated them since. Esther didn’t have any close friends from school. She used to play hopscotch and skip rope with a group of neighborhood girls, but everything had changed after Mama died. Esther had been sad for such a long time that no one wanted to play with her anymore – and she had wanted to be left alone. Besides, the girls all acted as if their mothers might die, too, if they got too close to Esther.

“Mama used to bake birthday cakes for us,” Esther finally said. “But I don’t want to eat it at Grandma’s house. It’s so cluttered in there that I can’t breathe. If I could have my wish, I’d like to have cake with Mr. Mendel.”

“I don’t think he can eat our food. He said it has to come from special Jewish stores, remember?”

“There’s a Jewish bakery across the street from the fruit stand where . . .” Esther paused. It was across from where her mother and Mrs. Mendel had died. Esther had always avoided that block and the bad memories of that day. But she would gladly make an exception for Mr. Mendel’s sake. “I’ll bet he could eat the cake if we bought it at the Jewish bakery.”

“Are you sure that’s all you want? Just to have cake here at home?”

“Well . . .” She thought of Jacky Hoffman. “Instead of staying overnight at Grandma’s that weekend, could I please go to the Saturday matinee with my friends? I know that means you won’t get the weekend off, but – ”

“That’s okay. I don’t have any place special to go. Your birthday is much more important. You can go to the movies with your friends that Saturday and come back here for cake with Mr. Mendel. How would that be?”

“Could I go to the movies without Peter?” she asked in a whisper. “Just my friends? I don’t want him to feel bad, but . . .”

“I understand. I’ll get him to help me with something here in the apartment.”

“Thanks, Penny.”

As the time for her birthday approached, Esther grew more and more excited about her trip to the movies alone with Jacky. It would almost seem like a grown-up date. She was thirteen years old after all, and she had seen kids from school holding hands as they stood in line for their tickets. She might even agree to sit upstairs in the balcony this time. Only the little kids like Peter sat downstairs.

When the day finally arrived, Esther nearly danced with happiness as she walked to the movies alone with Jacky. “Are you going to let me pay for your ticket this time?” he asked, flashing his roguish grin.

“If you want to . . . It’s my birthday, after all. I’m thirteen now.”

She was a little disappointed when Jacky didn’t hold her hand as they waited in line. But he led the way upstairs to the balcony and put his arm around her shoulder when the lights went low. His arm was really around her shoulder, too, not just on the back of the chair. She saw the couple in front of them smooching during the newsreel, but she was relieved that Jacky didn’t try to kiss her. Their hands brushed as they shared the popcorn and candy, and it was so exciting to sit close to Jacky and feel grown up that Esther could barely follow the plot of the film they watched.

Afterward, Jacky finally reached for her hand outside the theater and held it all the way home. He even took the long way home so they could be together longer. “Can I give you a birthday kiss?” he asked when they halted in the alley behind Esther’s apartment building. She hesitated, then shook her head. She didn’t have quite enough courage for a first kiss, especially in broad daylight where the neighbors might see them. Her heart already pounded harder than it ever had in her life.

“Come on, just a little peck?” he coaxed.

“Okay, but here . . .” She pointed to her cheek. Jacky put his hands on her shoulders and moved very close. When he bent his head down and pressed his lips to her cheek, Esther thought her heart might explode. He smelled good up close – like Daddy did when he got dressed up.

“Happy birthday, Esther,” Jacky murmured before he pulled away again. The place on her cheek where his lips had touched felt like it was on fire. This had been one of the best birthdays in her life. It felt great to be thirteen.

“Would you like to come in and have some birthday cake with us?” she asked.

“You having a big party or something?”

“No, just my brother and Penny and me. And our landlord, Mr. Mendel.”

He turned away. “No, thanks. Maybe another time. I should get home.”

In a way, Esther was relieved. She didn’t want anyone to know how she felt about Jacky. And Penny didn’t know that the “friend” Esther had gone to the matinee with was a boy. Besides, Peter didn’t like Jacky, and he might spoil the afternoon for them.

“Hi, I’m back,” she called as she came in the kitchen door. “Peter . . . ? Where is everyone?”

“Come upstairs for a minute,” Penny called down to her. “Peter and I want to show you something.”

Esther still felt like she was floating as she went up to the third floor. When she reached her bedroom, she saw that Peter and Penny had moved the furniture around while she’d been gone. Esther would still sleep in the same room with Peter, but they had rearranged the beds so they weren’t side by side anymore. The toy box had been moved, and Mama’s dressing table and mirror stood in its place with a wrapped birthday present for Esther on top. She couldn’t stop smiling as she gazed at the transformed room. Was the dainty little dressing table really hers now?

Peter held up his slate. He had written
Happy Birthday Esther
in colored chalk. “Thanks, Pete,” she said. “And thanks for changing everything around. The room looks . . . it looks wonderful!”

Peter pulled out the stool to the dressing table and gestured for Esther to sit down and open her present. There was no tag on the gift. “Who is this from?” she asked as she tore off the paper. “Is it from you, Peter?” He shook his head.

“You’ll see when you open it,” Penny said.

Esther tore off the last of the wrappings and pulled the lid off the carton. Inside were Mama’s silver comb and mirror set, and her jewelry box.

“I wrote to your father,” Penny said, “and asked if I could give them to you for your birthday. He said yes! I wrote to him the same day we found your mother’s things, and I was so afraid that the letters wouldn’t get all the way over to England and back in time for your birthday. But they did. Your daddy’s letter arrived yesterday.”