Don't Forget to Write: A Novel(20)

She winked.

Not more than a moment later, champagne flutes of orange juice arrived. “To Avalon,” Ada said, raising her glass to me. “The jewel of the Jersey shore.”

“I’m not sure that’s saying much.”

“Hush,” Ada said, taking a sip. I followed suit, realizing as soon as the vibrant liquid hit my tongue that it was a mimosa. Ada was watching my reaction, so I kept my face blank. “I lived through Prohibition too,” she said. “Cheers.”

The usual proved to be a summer salad topped with crab meat, a combination I would never have tried on my own. My family didn’t keep kosher, though we avoided shellfish and pork. But Ada was right. Perhaps it was the sea air or the view or just the food itself, but it was delicious.

“Is the town Jewish?” I asked as the waiter cleared our plates.

“No. Two churches, no synagogues. We’ll be heathens for the summer.”

I ignored the “heathen” comment. There had been no mention at all of going to a shul the one weekend I spent in Philadelphia, and I wasn’t going to be the one to suggest it. Especially not when I knew what sort of comments she would make about why I might want to attend—not that I did. “Then who will your clients be?”

“Here? Everyone with an unmarried daughter over twenty-five in Cape May County. Atlantic too. They don’t mind driving.” She drank the last sip of her mimosa. “Which is where you come in. When the young men come to visit their families, we swoop in.”

“You’re not going to push me off that pier, are you?” I asked, gesturing to the pier in the distance.

“Now there’s an idea. Weeds out the ones who can’t swim.”

“Did Lillian round up men for you?”

“Lillian? Goodness no. We always hired a girl to help.”

“Does that mean you’re going to pay me?”

“If so, I’ll also be charging you rent.”

“I have a feeling I’ll come out of that arrangement owing you money,” I said.

“Best not look a gift horse in the mouth. Come on. I’ll pay you with an ice cream cone. Springer’s is better, of course, but we would have to drive to Stone Harbor for that, so another day. Avalon Freeze is absolutely worth the walk.”

“Do we walk everywhere in this town?”

“Mostly. I have bikes in the shed as well if you fancy a ride.”

“I haven’t ridden a bike since I was a kid.”

Ada pushed back her chair and stood. “All of five minutes ago, then.” And she strode away, leaving me to chase after her.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN


Frannie appeared mysteriously at seven the following morning to prepare breakfast. “Does she stay here with us?” I asked when Frannie returned to the kitchen.

“Of course not.”

I was apparently supposed to know her living arrangements without asking. “Does she take the train down from Philadelphia at five every morning?”

Ada lowered her newspaper. “Is it really your business where Frannie lives?”

I supposed it wasn’t. But I was still curious. Especially if Ada actually paid her a living wage. She had been beyond generous with Hannah, the homely girl looking for a match, and ridiculously so when it came to buying me a summer wardrobe (though I suspected that was more about me being a reflection of her than anything else), but I was still curious, especially given the fact that her paid companion lived with her year-round with time off for an ailing mother. But I said nothing—until Frannie came back in with my coffee, that is.

“Frannie,” I asked, ignoring a warning look from Ada. “Where do you stay when you’re in Avalon?”

Frannie looked in confusion to Ada, who shrugged. “Why—Miss Ada gives us a house for the summer. On Ninth Street.”

“Who’s ‘us’?”

“My family—my husband, the children, and my sister comes to stay with us.”

“How lovely,” I said as Ada returned to her newspaper.

“It really is. We could never afford a place here.”

“That’ll be enough, Frannie,” Ada said from behind her newspaper. “And you can have the night off tonight. We’ll be having dinner with the Katzes.”

“Of course, Miss Ada. Thank you.”

Ada nodded, and she retreated to the kitchen.

“Just how many houses do you own?” I asked.

“Real estate is never a bad investment.” She lowered the newspaper again. “What exactly is it that you want to do anyway?”

“Do?”

“Well, you don’t seem to have any interest in getting married. And while there is money to be made in the type of exploits that got you sent here, I don’t imagine that’s a career ‘Daddy’ would approve of.” I sat in silence for a moment, catching a satisfied smile on Ada’s face. “Oh my. Did I actually stump you? I thought you had a comeback for everything.”

“That’s you,” I said.

“And I told you not to make that face if you don’t want wrinkles. I think you’re destined for children. You’ll look older than me within five years.”

I felt my face scowling and tried to smooth it out. “I’m not against marriage,” I said finally. “I just don’t want to be forced into it. If I do, it’ll be for love.”