Chapter Forty-Nine

FORTY-NINE

OCTOBER 1987

After everyone was settled back in their seats, Augusta tried again to give her speech.

But this time, she was thwarted by the arrival of her birthday cake. The cake, covered with fondant roses and candles, was so enormous that it took two waiters to carry it properly. Its placement in the center of the table necessitated the hasty rearrangement of all the remaining silverware, plates, and collection of half-filled glasses.

“That cake is big enough for an army,” said Irving.

“There goes my diet,” Shirley said.

As Augusta did her best to blow out the candles, everyone in the room joined together in singing a chorus of “Happy Birthday.” The cake was removed and carried to a sideboard, where the waiters cut and plated the slices.

Jackie lifted her glass and winked at Augusta. “May all of Augusta’s birthday wishes come true.” As the others raised their glasses, Irving eyed his suspiciously. Nathaniel threw back the rest of his drink and murmured something about taking Jackie up on her offer to give him a ride home.

“The cake is delicious,” Augusta told her niece.

“Decadent,” Shirley chimed in.

“This cake,” said Nathaniel, his voice groggy and slurred, “is almost as sweet as Shirley.”

Irving put a hand on Nathaniel’s arm. “You all right there, Nathaniel? Hey—did you pick up my drink by mistake? I thought I had most of my Scotch left…”

“Uh-oh,” Jackie mumbled not so quietly. Augusta gave her a worried glance.

“Sorry about that,” said Nathaniel.

“No problem,” said Irving. “I need my wits about me. I’d actually like to say a few words.”

Augusta felt her face turn hot. “I wanted to say something, too.”

“You go first then. You’re the guest of honor.”

“No, no. That’s silly. You can go first.”

Suddenly Nathaniel stood from his seat. “I also have something to say.” He turned to Shirley and put one hand on his heart. “Shirley, you’re a wonderful woman. For weeks now, I’ve wanted to tell you so, but I’ve been struggling with my feelings. In all the years since Evie has been gone, I have never once looked at another woman, but now, with you—”

“NO!” Irving shouted, pounding his fist on the table with such force that the olive at the bottom of Augusta’s martini glass quivered. “Are you kidding me with this crap, Nathaniel? After we had that whole talk? You’re going to do this to me AGAIN?”

Nathaniel sank back into his chair, looking utterly confused. “What did I say? What did I do?”

“The same thing you did sixty-two years ago when I told you I was going to ask Augusta to marry me!”

Jackie’s mouth fell wide open. Shirley placed one hand over her heart.

Augusta was the first to break the silence. “You were going to ask me to marry you?”

“Of course I was!” Irving shouted. “Until this…” He pointed at Nathaniel. “Until this schmuck stole my moment! And now, he’s trying to do it again!”

Nathaniel lowered his head into his hands. “My god, Irving, I’m so sorry. I never dreamt… I had no idea. I never should have had that second glass of Scotch. Or the third, actually, if we’re being technical. In fact, I really shouldn’t drink at all, considering that the first time I caused all these problems, I downed everything in that flask…”

Shirley patted Nathaniel’s hand. “Don’t worry, everything will be fine. Let’s get you a cup of coffee.”

Augusta gripped the sides of her chair. “What flask was that, Nathaniel?” she demanded.

“A flask of whiskey—at least I think that’s what it was. I swiped it from Irving on the night Evie and I got engaged.”

Augusta crossed her arms over her chest. “Irving Rivkin, that was my father’s best whiskey! I was very clear that it was for you alone. ”

“I know, ” said Irving. “But Nathaniel drank the whole damn thing before I could even get a sip.”

“Wait a minute,” Jackie said, a smile forming on the edges of her lips. “Irving, are you saying that you never drank what was in the flask Augusta gave you?”

“That’s right.”

“And now, tonight, you’re telling us that Nathaniel took your glass of Scotch by mistake?”

“Yeah, and—”

Augusta let out a soft groan. She reached for the clutch beside her chair and opened it up to check the contents. It was just as she suspected—the pouch of powder was gone. “Jacqueline Esther Rosenthal, what did you do? ”

Jackie shrugged. “When you spilled the water on Irving, I thought that was the signal.”

“For goodness’ sake, there was no signal! ”

Jackie was the first to laugh. Next Augusta started giggling. Eventually the giggle turned into a howl until Augusta was doubled over in her seat. Her entire body began to shake. Despite their elegant surroundings, they were behaving like children at a circus.

Meanwhile, Irving was fuming. He frowned at Augusta and shook his head. “You know, I was finally going to tell you the truth tonight. I was going to tell you I loved you!”

The confession made Augusta laugh even harder, so that a trickle of tears ran down her cheeks—until the laughter subsided and her tears fell in earnest. A terrible clarity dawned on her as she grasped, perhaps for the very first time, exactly how much she did not know.

At the sight of her tears, Irving’s face softened, and he walked around the table to embrace her. He took a handkerchief from his suit pocket and carefully dabbed the tears from her face. In his eyes, Augusta could finally see all the hurt he had suffered in all the years they’d been apart. “Why are you crying?” he whispered.

“Because, you schmuck, I love you, too.”

Irving could feel his heart singing in his chest. He could smell Goldie’s eucalyptus shampoo; he could taste the chocolate cake on her tongue. For about forty-five seconds while she was kissing him, he was the happiest man in the world.

He should have known it wouldn’t last.

When she pulled away to catch her breath, he saw the white-hot flash of anger building in her still-wet eyes.

“Wait a second,” she said as she struggled to catch her breath. “If you wanted to ask me to marry you, why did you walk away that night? Why did you cheat on me with Lois? How could you leave for Chicago without even saying goodbye?” She crossed her arms over her chest and took a step backward, away from him.

Irving had never told a soul the truth of what had happened—not his mother, not his brother, and especially not Augusta. For decades, fear had paralyzed him. Even after Zip and Mitzi died, he couldn’t bring himself to recount the tale.

“It’s a long story,” Irving told her.

“So?” Augusta said, her arms still crossed. “I’ve got plenty of time.”

“We have all the time in the world,” said Shirley, waving over a passing waiter. “Excuse me, can you take away these glasses?” She nodded at a still-wobbly Nathaniel. “And please, bring everyone some coffee.”