“How’s college treating my favorite sister?”
She smiled. He told all of them they were his favorite. “I’m enjoying it.”
He glanced sideways at her. “Oh yeah? How much?”
Evelyn laughed. “Not that much. I’m a good girl, after all.”
“Yeah. And I hear I might be named the next pope.” He was rewarded with a jab to the ribs.
“How sad—I suppose that means you won’t be getting married, then. Unless you plan to have a lot of ‘nephews’ like the old popes did.”
“Which one of our sisters has the big mouth?”
“Margaret. Tell me who she is.”
Sam sighed. “Louise. You’ll meet her Wednesday. I’ve already met her parents.”
“Is it official, then?”
He shook his head. “I spoke with her father, and I have a ring. I haven’t asked her yet.”
“What are you waiting for?”
“The right time, you heathen. You can’t just do it in a car like you’re asking where to go to eat.”
Evelyn scowled, then rearranged her face. It wouldn’t do for Sam to know. He might be her favorite brother, but he couldn’t keep a secret to save his life—as evidenced by having already told Margaret—and probably the rest of their siblings—about Louise.
Thankfully, he was too focused on the drive to notice her expression. “And what about you? You got a fella yet?”
“Maybe.”
“Is he Jewish? Or you gonna get yourself in trouble again?”
This time she let him see the scowl. “Did it ever occur to you that we’re living in the twentieth century and the whole idea of only marrying people like us is ridiculous and old-fashioned?”
He shook his head. “No, I can’t say that it did. Especially not after what I saw in Europe at the end. There are about six million fewer of us than there used to be.”
There was no way to argue once that point came out. But she could always fudge the truth a little. Besides, she had met a Jewish man, even if she wasn’t interested in Fred. “Don’t you worry.” She patted Sam’s arm. “Papa will approve.”
He glanced at her again, and she wondered briefly if Bernie had told Sam about his talk with Tony. But then he changed the subject back to Louise, and Evelyn exhaled. Sam had the biggest mouth in the world. Bernie wouldn’t tell him. And as long as Miriam didn’t pry it out of Vivie, her secret was safe.
Of course, by bedtime, Margaret and Gertie were peppering her with questions about who the new boy was. Sam, Evelyn thought, shaking her head.
“Where does he go to school?” Margaret asked.
“How did you meet him?”
“Is he Jewish?”
Evelyn looked at her sisters appraisingly. This was new territory; Evelyn had never been treated as one of the big girls before. She glanced down at Vivie, who sat cross-legged on her floor pallet, a pillow hugged to her chest. At not-quite seventeen, Vivie was now the last of the little girls. Evelyn wondered if that would change when she went off to college or whether it would always be the case; Margaret was graduating this year, and Vivie would always be a full step behind everyone except Evelyn.
With the new terrain, however, also came the question of whether she could trust them. Historically, that hadn’t been wise. But a broken plate or a trip to the movies on Shabbat were in a whole different league from the secret she was carrying now.
She looked at Vivie again. Two can keep a secret if one of them is dead, she thought. Evelyn held a conspiratorial finger to her lips. “It’s still early—I don’t want to jinx anything.”
Margaret elbowed her playfully. “Come on.”
“Nope. You’ll find out eventually—assuming it goes the way I want it to.”
“She must be serious,” Gertie said to Margaret, swaying gently when the baby stirred. “Imagine Evelyn not bragging.”
“Hey!”
“Am I wrong?”
Evelyn grinned. “Not in the slightest.”
But when the rest of the house had gone to sleep, Evelyn climbed out of the bed and snuggled in behind Vivie on the floor.
“Missed you,” Vivie murmured sleepily.
Evelyn hugged her tightly. “Missed you too.”
The girls all helped prepare the Thanksgiving meal, taking turns rocking, feeding, and cooing over Gertie’s baby, who finally slept in a basket on the table, on top of a soft blanket that Miriam had crocheted. When dinner was ready, the family would crowd around Miriam’s elegant dining table, extended to its fullest with extra leaves but still not big enough for the addition of so many spouses and children. It would be Evelyn’s first year at the adult table.