“There is a matter that I’ve thought about for some time,” he began in faltering English, “and it is something we need to talk about today. I’m sorry to have pulled you out of your own wedding, but now I think is the best time.” Boris stopped to inhale the smoke from his cigarette.
“It’s a matter of business, really, that I wish to speak to you about,” he continued, “and I have to tell you frankly that I’m not happy about your prospects and your ability to care for my daughter. You must know that Esther is a very special girl, not only beautiful, but a person of immense talents in business, math, and language. So how could I possibly let her make a home with a bottle stacker?”
Before Jacob could open his mouth to speak, though, Boris stopped him, clenching his shoulder with his beefy hand.
“And that is why I’m asking you today, no, insisting, really, that you come into the real estate business, where you’ll learn from me and from Esther how to work hard and, most important, how to make money. Now you are family, and besides, my own two sons seem to have little interest in the business.” He finished, the last words catching in his throat, the only sign of emotion Jacob had witnessed.
With Boris’s hand still fastened to his shoulder, Jacob began to feel faint, a reaction somewhat akin to the moment Esther had accepted his proposal of marriage. It was some time before he could find the words.
“I accept your proposal.”
With his customary nod, Boris released his hold on the young man’s shoulder, leaving him standing in the smoky vestibule, cigarette dangling from his fingers. It was difficult to move as the clamor faded and terror filled his heart. It was the same way Jacob had felt that first night alone in the barn. Boris had just offered him a prize, yet it was a prize clothed in insults. Perhaps he was just a bottle stacker and incapable of anything more, unworthy of Esther. But did he have any choice? If he were to reach any of his dreams, he had to keep going. He had to take this chance.
Jacob waited for the icy paralysis to seep from his feet before walking back inside and pulling out the seat beside his bride. The final strains of music were dying down, the din of congratulatory voices had begun to quiet, and it was not until he walked out into the star-filled night that Jacob realized he had forgotten to say thank you.
SIX
Esther
They held hands for an exceptionally long time, and finally, just before daylight shimmied quietly into the room, he fell asleep. But Esther could not. Such a strange man, she thought, stroking his splayed fingers lightly. After exploring each other’s bodies in the way of first-time lovers, sensitive, curious, then ravenous, almost as if they were crawling into each other’s souls, they lay in bed and talked. And after what seemed like hours but had been only minutes, he began to cry. Pouring his heart into hers, Jacob revealed nothing, nothing about his life before his world fell apart, and she couldn’t understand why he had this sudden burst of emotion.
He told her about her father’s generous offer, and even though she had guessed the reason he had taken Jacob aside, she was touched by how appreciative, how overwhelmed Jacob appeared. Something told her there would be more to come, for her father, like a clever poker player, was not one to show his hand too soon. A small worry emerged that Jacob, being proud, as most young men are, would reject those gifts when they were offered, but she let her concern slide off her, just as Jacob earlier had slid the tips of his fingers down her arms, heightening her desire. Still, she could not quite figure out the crying, and she felt helpless in the throes of it. At first she thought it might have been about his parents and the void he was feeling on this day in particular. Yet Jacob had never spoken of them with a snippet of emotion, only telling her bluntly that they had died in the war. Maybe he was just nervous, but how was it that his insecurities could reach such hysteria?
She held him in her arms, wiped the tears from his hot cheeks, and kissed the top of his head. She watched him sleep for many minutes before finally laying her own head on the hotel’s satin pillow. The sudden emotion hadn’t frightened her; on the contrary, she found it endearing. Still, Esther wondered, what new pieces in the puzzle that was Jacob would emerge tomorrow?
The way Sally fussed over the wedding and the sumptuous breakfast that followed the next day, one would have thought that the mother and not the daughter were getting married. In truth, Esther admitted that her mother had not had much of a wedding: a speedy writing of the ketubah, or marriage certificate, a brief ceremony in the local shul with only immediate members of the family present, and then the resumption of life as usual, with Boris occupying the office next to his father while Sally helped out in a nursery nearby. Soon enough, the babies came for her, and the first, the only, clear memory Esther had of her mother was of her standing behind her, plaiting her long hair into a thick brown braid, and later, admonishing her younger brothers for not washing their hands before coming to the table. Of course, she delighted in helping her mother with the cooking and the tasting of the cholent, one of her favorites, always resplendent with tender beef, thick potatoes, and lima beans, each ingredient Esther could not help but sample during the process. The move to America had been hard on her mother, what with the difficulties of a new language and learning how to navigate New York’s bustling sidewalks and fast-moving buses. Yes, Sally deserved this celebration, Esther thought. Perhaps more than Esther herself.