Chapter Twenty-Two

TWENTY-TWO

JULY 1924

Augusta could not stop thinking about her aunt’s reaction to Talia Friedman’s visit. Esther may have been irritated by Talia’s request, but she certainly did not seem surprised. It was this lack of incredulity that sent Augusta’s mind racing. Did such a “love potion” really exist? And if so, what was the formula? Were the ingredients and the dosage fixed, or did they vary depending upon the person for whom the elixir was intended? The only way for Augusta to know was to ask her aunt.

Over the past several months, Esther had been educating Augusta on a variety of basic home remedies: the proper herbal pastes for soothing beestings, reducing pimples, and treating rashes; a helpful tincture for calming coughs; a powder for alleviating congestion. Because of Esther’s willingness to teach, Augusta was hopeful that if she could approach her aunt at the proper time and in the proper manner, she could convince her to reveal more details about the potion in question.

And so Solomon Stern’s younger daughter spent the next weeks practicing how to ask without sounding too nosy or too eager. She didn’t want to seem like a wide-eyed teenager or a gullible romantic. It was important, she thought, to be appropriately inquisitive and to emphasize that her interest was driven only by scientific curiosity and a thirst for knowledge.

As it turned out, all her preparation was for nothing: one week after denying Talia Friedman, Aunt Esther offered to make a similar potion for none other than Augusta’s sister.

The subject presented itself on a Tuesday morning, after Solomon Stern had left for the store. Augusta was finishing up her toast, but Bess was still lolling around in bed in the windowless room off the kitchen. Before Augusta left for the pharmacy, she opened the door to check on her sister. “Bess? It’s late. Don’t you want some breakfast?”

Augusta expected to find her sister asleep, but Bess was very much awake, sitting up and hugging her chest to her knees. Her head was down, her face was hidden, and her fragile body was shaking with sobs.

“Bess? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Augusta scurried to her sister’s side and laid a soft hand on her back. “Oh, Bess, what is it?”

Instead of comforting her sister, Augusta’s words had the opposite effect. Bess’s weeping grew exponentially louder and her body shook even more fiercely.

“What is it?” Augusta asked again, gently wrapping her arms around Bess’s neck.

Suddenly Aunt Esther appeared in the doorway. “It is her young man, I think,” she said.

A startled Bess lifted her head and stared at their aunt through a shroud of tears. “How do you know that?” she said. “I haven’t said anything to anyone.”

Esther smoothed her kitchen apron over the front of her shapeless black dress. Her lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “I’m not as old as you think I am. I still remember having such feelings.”

“I don’t know what I’m feeling,” said Bess. “That’s why I’ve been so miserable. I haven’t been able to sleep for weeks. And every time I try to eat, the food gets stuck in my throat. I can’t keep anything down—I end up feeling sick to my stomach.”

Esther nodded as if she already knew, but Augusta was thoroughly confused. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Everyone knows how much George loves you. He didn’t do anything awful, did he? You don’t think he has another girl?”

Bess shook her head. “It isn’t that. George is wonderful. He’s absolutely perfect.”

“Then why are you so upset?”

“She does not know if she wants to marry him,” said Aunt Esther, in a tone as cursory as if she were ordering a cut of beef from the butcher.

Augusta looked from Esther to Bess. She didn’t have to ask if the assessment was true—from Bess’s face, it was obvious. “George asked me to look at engagement rings for you,” Augusta confessed. “He wanted to know what I thought you would like. I would have told you earlier, but he swore me to secrecy.”

Despite the heat, Bess was shivering. “I know. He let it slip a while ago.”

“Can you talk to him about it?” Augusta suggested. “Explain that you need more time to think?”

“I’m not sure time is going to help. I love George, Augusta. I really do. But how do I know I won’t change my mind? How can I be sure that he’s the man I’m supposed to be with forever ? How does anybody know?”

Augusta had no answers for her sister. How could she hope to have opinions on a subject she knew absolutely nothing about? Augusta had never been in love. She had never even been kissed.

“I don’t know what to do,” Bess said, swallowing down a fresh batch of sobs. “What if I say yes to the proposal and then, later, I change my mind? If only I could be sure that I’m making the right decision.”

Aunt Esther paced the narrow room and clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “You want to know your true feelings for the man? Is that what you want?”

Bess wiped her eyes with the hem of her nightgown. “Yes,” she said. “That’s what I want.”

“Very well, then,” said Aunt Esther. “I will help.”

Bess suppressed a frustrated groan. “Please don’t tell me you can solve my problems with another bowl of soup.”

Aunt Esther chuckled. “No soup, no. What you need is my mother’s recipe—perfect for matters of the heart such as this.”

Augusta couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “But when Talia Friedman asked for a love potion, I heard you refuse with my own two ears! And when I asked you about it after, you told me I was talking nonsense !”

“Talia Friedman and her mother are fools! What they want is not possible—and even if it was, it would be wicked. Only a charlatan would make such promises. Love is not something that can be forced.”

“Then I don’t understand,” Augusta said. “What does your love potion do?”

“There is no love potion, ” Esther snapped. “My elixir only helps the mind to see and to feel more clearly.”

For the first time in weeks, Bess looked almost hopeful. She had consistently rejected Augusta’s suggestions that there was something uncanny about Esther’s remedies. But now, suddenly, she seemed to accept that Esther knew more than just how to make kreplach. “How exactly does it work? Will it make me fall in love with George?”

Aunt Esther shook her head. “It can’t make you feel what you do not. If it works, all it can do is help to illuminate your true emotions.”

“What do you mean, if it works ?”

“It is difficult to explain. The recipe helps to unlock the mind. Some people have minds that are more closed than others. If a person’s mind is shut too tightly, the recipe may not work at all. But if a person’s mind is open enough, the elixir may help them to decide whether what they feel is lasting love or a passing infatuation.”

“How soon can I take it?” said Bess. “Can you make it for me now?”

“I do not have all the necessary ingredients. I will give it to you on Friday, when George comes for dinner. That will be the best time—when the two of you are together.”

Once the whole business was decided, Bess braided her hair and got dressed. For the first time in weeks, she ate a real breakfast—a hard-boiled egg and two slices of rye bread, slathered thickly with butter. As she drank her second cup of tea, the color came back into her cheeks and the worry lines disappeared from her face.

One way or another, Augusta knew now, her sister would finally have an answer. The air in the kitchen was sweet with relief, shimmering with propitious resolve. Neither of the sisters had any doubt that their great-aunt’s recipe would do what was promised.

All that was left was to make sure their father didn’t find out.