Chapter Twenty-Six

TWENTY-SIX

JULY 1924

Irving’s mother had been wearing the same winter coat for as long as Irving had been alive. It was a mud-brown, threadbare, wretched thing, and Irving knew that at the end of every winter, his mother’s enthusiasm for the coming of spring was more about the putting away of the coat than about the pale green buds forming on the trees, the daffodils blooming in the park, or the extra hours of daylight the new season promised.

It was for this reason that Irving had ventured east out of Brownsville for a few hours. It was a rare afternoon outing for him—one he had made for the specific purpose of purchasing a new coat for his mother’s birthday. The day before, in the drugstore, Irving had overheard a pair of women discussing a winter coat sale. Summer—he’d learned from his recent eavesdropping—was apparently the best time to buy winter clothing. The sale today was at Oppenheim Collins, a large department store on the corner of Bridge and Fulton Streets in downtown Brooklyn.

Because he so rarely left his neighborhood, Irving had no familiarity with what shopping was like outside of Brownsville. He was used to the crowded mom-and-pop stores, the local men’s shops filled with stale cigar smoke, and the brash saleswomen on every corner trying to lure him inside for “a deal.”

Nothing he’d experienced in his gritty neighborhood had prepared him for what it would be like inside the sweet-smelling, grand, and airy stone palace that was known as Oppenheim Collins. The sheer enormity of the store—its marble pillars, sparkling floors, and labyrinth of glass display cases—set Irving’s nerves on edge. He felt as out of place inside as if he’d somehow wandered into a church confessional. And yet, although he knew he did not belong, he was determined to stay until he found the gift that he had given up his day to buy. He followed the signs to the second floor, where the women’s winter coats were supposedly waiting.

Irving wove his way through a maze of rooms—full of bathrobes, handbags, and velvet shawls. He’d expected to fight off the salesmen, but here, unlike on Pitkin Avenue, none of them pushed Irving to buy. In fact, they acted as if he did not exist, which only frustrated him further. After several attempts to get someone’s attention, he was directed to the back of another room, where a single rack of woolen coats was marked with a discreet ON SALE placard.

“That’s all?” he asked, his shoulders tensing. The salesman nodded curtly and turned away, leaving Irving alone to pore over the limited selection. Irving’s frustration turned to despair when he began checking the price tags on the sleeves. The sale prices were three times as much as the regular prices in Brownsville! The money he’d been saving would not pay for half of one of the coats on the rack.

He had made up his mind to leave the store when he felt a vigorous tap on his shoulder. A familiar-looking woman in a sleek dove-gray suit was grinning at him when he turned. At her feet were two enormous bags bearing the Oppenheim Collins logo.

“It is you,” the woman said gleefully. “You certainly got tall, young man.” She called out to her husband, who was enjoying the attention of not just one, but two of the salespeople. “Zip, dear! Look, I told you it was him.”

Almost a full year had passed since Irving had last seen Mr. and Mrs. Diamond. If people with that kind of money shopped here, he thought, it had certainly been a mistake to come. And to think he had wasted his afternoon off searching for bargains at a place like this!

“You’re the kid who helped our Sammy?” Zip Diamond shook Irving’s hand with less ferocity than the first time they’d met.

“Yes, sir. Irving Rivkin. Nice to see you both again. How is Sammy doing?”

“Aren’t you sweet for asking?” said Mrs. Diamond. “Sammy is doing fine.”

“This place is far from the neighborhood,” said Zip. “What brings you all the way downtown?”

An embarrassed blush crept into Irving’s cheeks. “I heard there was a sale on winter coats. It’s my mother’s birthday and I wanted to buy one for her.”

“Well, aren’t you a wonderful son,” said Mrs. Diamond. “I’m sure she’s going to be delighted.”

“I don’t think so, ma’am,” said Irving. “I had no idea how fancy this store was.”

Mr. Diamond flashed Irving an oblivious smile. “There’s gotta be something you can get her. The clerks here are all top-notch.”

“I’m sure they are, but I don’t think I’m the kind of customer they’re used to.”

Mrs. Diamond understood immediately. She snapped her fingers at the waiting salespeople and beckoned them to come closer. She addressed her comments to the taller of the two—a blank-faced man in a neat black suit whose gold-embossed name tag read ALBERT .

“Albert,” said Mrs. Diamond loudly, “this young man is my good friend, Irving. Irving wants to buy a coat for his mother, for her birthday. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, it is, but I don’t think—”

“Albert, I’m wondering if you can help us. Irving came all this way because he was under the impression that your winter coats were on sale.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Albert smoothly. He gestured to the rack a few feet away. “These are our women’s wool coats, all discounted from last season.”

“But there are so few of them,” complained Mrs. Diamond. “Don’t you have any more?”

“I’m afraid not, ma’am,” Albert apologized. “We did receive a shipment of coats for this winter, but we haven’t put any of them on display yet. It’s only July, after all.”

“But you have the shipment in the store?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Albert said. “In the back.”

Mrs. Diamond turned to Irving. “What is your mother’s favorite color?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Irving nervously. “Besides, I don’t think I can afford—”

“What size is she?” Mrs. Diamond asked.

Irving hadn’t thought to check his mother’s size. Besides, the coat she had was so old, he doubted the label was still attached. “She’s about your size, Mrs. Diamond, ma’am. A few inches shorter, I think.”

Mrs. Diamond patted him on the shoulder. “You leave this to me,” she said. She looped her arm through Albert’s elbow. “Albert is going to show me a few of the new coats and I’ll bring back the one I think your mother will like best.”

Before Irving or Albert had a chance to protest, Mrs. Diamond led the salesman away, leaving Irving alone with Mr. Diamond and a second, shorter salesman, who pointed them to a cluster of chairs and a matching sofa on which to wait. Irving stood until Mr. Diamond had made himself comfortable.

“Brooklyn plays Cincinnati tonight,” said Irving, searching for a topic of conversation. “Are you a Brooklyn fan, Mr. Diamond?”

Zip pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. “Not me,” he said. “I’m for the Giants. Now that’s a team.”

“You think they’ll win the pennant again?”

“That’s the beauty of baseball, kid. You can never tell who’s going to win.” As Zip flashed an enigmatic smile, Irving suddenly remembered the World Series rumors. Of all the topics he could have chosen, why had he stupidly brought up baseball? A trickle of sweat dripped down Irving’s neck. He gritted his teeth and stopped talking.

“How’s school going?” Zip asked next. “You keeping that promise to your mother?”

“Yes, sir. I’m starting my senior year this fall. I’ll be graduating next June.”

“Look what we found!” Mrs. Diamond called out, returning from wherever the new coats were kept. In her hands, she held up a black wool coat trimmed with fur on the cuffs and collar. She took a few steps closer to Irving and dangled the coat in front of him. “Isn’t it perfect? It’s wool velour with a raccoon collar and a silk crepe lining. I thought black was best—it’s the most versatile.” Albert, the salesman, stood a few feet behind her, frowning and fidgeting with his bow tie.

“It’s a real nice coat,” Irving told them, “but I can’t afford—”

“That’s the best part!” Mrs. Diamond trilled. “As it turns out, the store is offering a special promotion. Isn’t that right, Albert?”

Albert gritted his teeth and nodded. “Buy one, get one free,” he murmured. Behind him, another salesman appeared, holding a long black sable coat.

“I’m getting that one,” Mrs. Diamond said cheerfully, pointing to the shimmering fur. She continued before her husband could object: “Thank goodness we ran into Irving today! Otherwise, I would have waited until October to look for the new sable you promised me, and by then they would have been all picked over. This way, I got my first choice. In any event, since I’m buying the sable, that means the second coat is free .”

Irving tried to protest, but Zip Diamond shook his head. For the first time since they’d sat down together, Irving noticed the dark circles blooming beneath the man’s eyes. “Do me a favor, don’t argue with her. It took me years, but I finally caught on. As a matter of fact, that’s how I got my nickname. When Mitzi says how something is supposed to go, I just nod and zip my lip.”

Mrs. Diamond pretended to laugh, but her eyes were as hard as the shiny black buttons sewn to the front of the “free” wool coat. “Don’t fill the boy’s head with stories, Zip,” she snapped. “Albert, I’d like you to wrap Irving’s coat and box it up for him to take home.”

“Certainly, madam,” Albert said.

The trickle of sweat on the back of Irving’s neck suddenly turned cold. What was he doing on this couch, in this store, with these people? As Zip exhaled a puff of smoke, Irving found it difficult to breathe. In the wake of Mrs. Diamond’s laughter, a foreboding silence filled the air. He felt her staring at him now, quietly appraising him—but for what future purpose, he did not know.

Irving turned back to Mr. Diamond, who suddenly looked exhausted. “You’re lucky my wife likes you, kid,” Zip said. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep it that way.”