Chapter Thirty-One

THIRTY-ONE

OCTOBER 1987

On the morning of Jackie’s arrival, Augusta swam her laps even faster than usual.

“You got a shark behind you or something?” asked Irving. He’d stopped in the shallow part of the pool and motioned for her to stop as well. On any other day, Augusta would have been annoyed that he’d interrupted her routine.

“Jackie is coming today,” said Augusta, in an almost giddy voice. “I’m picking her up at the airport at eleven.”

“Fort Lauderdale or West Palm?”

“West Palm,” said Augusta. “It’s closer.”

“Will you bring her over to the pool for lunch?”

“We’ll see,” said Augusta. “I’ll let her decide.”

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Irving said, readjusting his goggles. “Imagine… Bess and George’s daughter.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it. “George was such a mensch. He always looked out for me, you know. He gave me advice about how to handle the customers; he even used to slip me extra food from the soda counter when your dad wasn’t looking.”

“My father knew,” said Augusta.

“’Course he did.” A grin spread over Irving’s face. “I didn’t say he didn’t know, only that he looked the other way.”

Later, as she showered and got ready for the airport, Augusta remembered all the times George swore that a particularly difficult customer had changed his mind after placing an order. I made the guy a grilled cheese, but now he says he wants egg salad. The sandwich is already made, George would say. Either you eat it, Irv, or it will go to waste. She remembered her father overhearing one such conversation, catching her eye, and winking at her. Solomon Stern could always tell when his soda jerk was fibbing. For all Augusta knew, he encouraged it.

That was the nice thing about spending time with a person you’d known for almost all of your life—the memories you shared grew even more vivid when you remembered them together.

Later, Augusta waited at the gate for Jackie to get off the plane. As passengers poured through the gateway door, Augusta watched half a dozen couples embracing their children and grandchildren—scenes that made Augusta long for a family she could never hope to have. The yearning was certainly nothing new, but now, at this stage of her life, it took on a different kind of permanence. She hadn’t mentioned it to Shirley when the two of them talked about marriage; she hadn’t mentioned how tempted she’d been by some of the men she had dated. When she was younger—in her twenties, thirties, and forties—she’d imagined a hundred diverse pathways offering a hundred different life choices. She could marry another pharmacist and share the store; she could marry the widowed professor and help him to raise his three young children; she could marry the wealthy childless banker and live a life full of travel and romance. But with each passing year, as she grew older, the number of Augusta’s opportunities dwindled; her choices—both real and imagined—fell from a hundred to fifty, from twenty to ten, and finally to one. Now, on the cusp of her eightieth birthday, Augusta’s what if? days were gone.

Only when Jackie’s face appeared did Augusta’s melancholy fade.

Having Bess for her sister had been a blessing, but it was Jackie who had always been the balm for the worst of Augusta’s loneliness. Jackie was Bess’s “change of life” baby, born when her brothers were ten and twelve. Augusta was thirty-four at the time—an unmarried pharmacist who worked too hard. When the whispers and pitying glances of her customers became too much for her to bear, Augusta would leave the pharmacy early, head to Bess’s apartment, and scoop the baby onto her lap. There was something about the softness of Jackie’s skin and the scent of the wispy hairs on her head that slowed Augusta’s racing pulse and calmed her overexcited brain.

When Jackie got older, there were trips to the library, movies, plays, and countless sleepovers at Augusta’s tiny apartment. When Augusta finally sold the Brooklyn store, her niece was already in her early twenties. It was Jackie who collected the newspaper ads for rental apartments on the Upper West Side. And when Augusta was forced out of her first hospital job, it was Jackie who purchased the Liquid Paper to change the date on her pharmacy license. ( With all that hospital bureaucracy, Jackie said, no one will have time to question your age. )

And it was Jackie who found Rallentando Springs and suggested the two-bedroom layout, so there would be an extra bed whenever she came for a visit.

“I can’t believe you’re finally here!” said Augusta, kissing her niece on the cheek.

“I can’t believe how tan you are! The Florida weather agrees with you!”

When they reached the exit door to the terminal, the humidity hit them both like a slap. Jackie pulled off her oversize blazer. “I can’t wait to get out of these jeans and into my bathing suit!”

Augusta eyed her niece’s two suitcases—one large checked bag and one carry-on. “Are you sure you’re only coming for the weekend?” she asked. “It looks like you packed for a month!”

Jackie’s smile was enigmatic. “I wanted to be prepared.”

“Should we stop for lunch along the way or eat when we get home, by the pool?”

“Let’s wait until we get to your place.”

At the pool, Shirley was already saving them seats. “I feel like I’m meeting a celebrity,” she said, wrapping Jackie in a hug. “Your aunt hasn’t stopped talking about you all week!” To Augusta, she said, “Thank god the plane was on time. Edna Gerstein tried to take one of these chairs. You should have seen the look she gave me when I told her I needed two.”

“I’m so happy to meet you,” Jackie said. “Thanks for being such a wonderful friend to my aunt.”

“No need to thank me. I love Augusta!” Shirley leaned in conspiratorially. “She’s really spiced things up around here!”

“You don’t say? Do tell.”

“She told you about the barbecue, didn’t she? How she had two men fighting over her?”

“I heard!”

“Did she tell you how the dessert table got tipped over? And how Nathaniel sat on my strawberry cheesecake?”

“Oh, she painted quite a picture—I almost felt like I was there. I’ve heard an awful lot about Nathaniel. Not as much about Irving, though.”

Shirley nodded. “It’s complicated. But Irving’s crazy about her. I don’t suppose she mentioned that?”

“Stop talking as if I’m not here,” said Augusta. “And can the two of you lower your voices, please ? People are starting to stare!”

Jackie ignored Augusta’s protests. “No, but she didn’t need to,” said Jackie. “The fact that he pushed a man into a cheesecake is a pretty clear indication.” She popped her sunglasses on top of her head, narrowed her eyes, and scanned the crowd. “Where are your suitors, Aunt Augusta? Are either of them around?”

Shirley shook her head. “They both play cards on Friday afternoons—not together, of course. Augusta told you that they don’t get along?”

“She did,” said Jackie.

“It isn’t only about your aunt, though. Irving had some sort of grudge against Nathaniel before she moved here.”

“That’s what Aunt Augusta said. I wish I knew how that feud started, don’t you?”

Augusta rolled her eyes and groaned. “I never should have introduced the two of you.”

Shirley squeezed Augusta’s hand. “You can’t blame us for being curious.” To Jackie, she said, “I don’t have any idea. But maybe we can get some answers at Augusta’s birthday party tomorrow.”

“It’s not a party,” Augusta said.

“Of course it’s a party,” Jackie insisted. “We’re celebrating your eightieth birthday! Speaking of which, I brought you the perfect birthday outfit from my store.” She turned to Shirley to explain. “My mother had a real eye for clothing. I inherited that gene, which is why I opened my own boutique. Anyway, Aunt Augusta, it’s a beautiful dress, sapphire-blue silk, with a touch of silver piping. It’ll be wonderful on you. Not too short, not too tight, a nice A-line fit—you’ll look like a dream!”

“ I tried to take her shopping for a dress,” said Shirley. “But she didn’t like anything I suggested.”

“She’s very particular,” Jackie said. “But I’ve been helping her pick out clothes for years, so I know exactly what she likes.”

“As long as she doesn’t wear her funeral pants,” said Shirley.

Augusta frowned. “Don’t get started on that again,” she said.

“I don’t know about the funeral pants,” said Jackie. “But I promise you’re both going to love the dress.” She pointed her thumb over at the snack bar. “All this gossip is making me hungry. I’m going to get something to eat.” Jackie got in line behind Harold Glantz and made small talk while they waited. Augusta couldn’t hear their conversation, but from the wide smile on Harold’s face, it seemed to be going well.

“Look at her—she can talk to anyone, ” said Shirley. “You must be so proud of her.”

“I certainly am,” Augusta said. From her seat she waved her arms wildly at Jackie until she finally caught her niece’s attention. “Don’t get the tuna, sweetheart!” she said.