After Lillian’s mother went away, the housekeeper went to work for Lillian’s grandparents. Teenage Lillian could always count on Sunny for a diversion to help pull her out of a jam. She helped Lillian hide chicken livers and lima beans in napkins, so she didn’t have to eat them. Their conspiracies evolved and, later on, Sunny helped her disguise high school parties as library outings.
Nowadays, having Sunny in her own house a few days a week reminded Lillian of the good times with her mother and grandmother, even when Lillian got caught in a pickle, like now.
“I came to meet the girls and check on Ruth,” Shirley said.
Lillian poured herself half a jelly glass of grapefruit juice. “Everything’s fine. Ruth seems lovely.”
“Lovely? The girl who ran off with my son is not lovely.”
Enough was enough. “She ran right to your attic, Shirl. And she’s trying to fit in. Give her a chance.” Lillian’s words scratched her throat. She had rarely expressed a contrary opinion.
“She didn’t give us a chance. I’ll never be crowned.” Jewish mothers dreamed of a mezinke tanz, a Jewish ceremony honoring parents who had married off their last child. The parents would be seated on chairs in the middle of the dance floor while friends and family danced around, kissing them as they passed. Best of all, a specially made crown of flowers was placed in the mother’s hair. Every mother wanted—had earned—those flowers.
Lillian should sympathize with Shirley, mourning her moment in the spotlight, but she recalled what she assumed were Shirley’s calculated omissions.
“Why didn’t you tell me Ruth’s mother had passed away? It would have been nice to know. Did you want her here only because we both grew up without mothers?”
“I wanted her here because you’re the perfect etiquette teacher.”
Lillian flushed. Shirley, normally stingy with compliments, had backed out of her predicament with aplomb. Of course the class was why Shirley had wanted them to meet—and that was fine.
It was the secret that wasn’t.
Lillian had been caught unaware and unprepared. How had she looked? How did it make Ruth feel that Shirley hadn’t shared this information about Lillian’s past? And now Shirley wanted to check up on her?
“If it bothers you that I’m here, Lil, I’ll go,” Shirley said.
Wide-eyed, Sunny handed Shirley a tinfoil packet, puffed with something edible. “A new apple cake recipe.”
Shirley ignored the peace offering and walked through the kitchen, heading for the dining room—not the direction Lillian wanted.
“It would be rude of me not to say hello, Lillian.”
Which course to take? Lillian was stuck between her old friend and the new Diamond Girls. “Of course,” she said. A short greeting wouldn’t interfere with the controlled atmosphere Lillian had so carefully created.
Shirley stopped next to the dining room table and turned to Lillian and whispered, “I didn’t think to tell you about Ruth’s mother because it’s nothing like your situation.”
Lillian dreaded reliving her past, but she’d have welcomed the point of connection with Ruth. “How can you say that? Neither of us had mothers.”
“You seem to forget one difference,” Shirley said. “Your mother is still alive.”
Chapter 5
RUTH
From the living room, Ruth could make out her mother-in-law’s voice in the kitchen. Ruth shuddered. Shirley was there?
Surrounding Ruth, the other girls chatted away, their social demeanors calm and unchanged. They didn’t hear the tone and tenor of Shirley’s voice, or feel the vibrations of her cadence.
Her thoughts raced to find the perfect way to express the details of their first training to her mother-in-law. No use denying it, Ruth wanted Shirley to feel satisfied, even proud.
“My mother-in-law is here,” Ruth whispered. “I’m guessing to check up on me.”
The banter stopped.
“How do you know it’s her?” Irene asked. “I can barely hear any talking.”
Carrie leaned toward the kitchen and shushed the others with a finger to her lips. “I hear something.”
Ruth had grown up in an apartment building, listening to sounds and voices through open windows and air shafts. Now, like back then, she had only to close her eyes and blank out all other sounds to transform the vague and muffled voices into clear, full-bodied language. “Trust me,” she said. “I can tell.”
“So what?” asked Harriet.
“How would you feel if someone checked up on you?” Irene asked.
Harriet shrugged.
“I wouldn’t like it,” Irene said.
“Maybe she wants to make sure you’re okay,” Carrie said.
Ruth shook her head. “She wants to make sure I don’t embarrass her.”
“Embarrass her?” Irene asked. “You’ve got more class and chutzpah in your little finger . . .”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Harriet said.
“I don’t understand what there is to check up on.” Carrie tapped an index finger on her chin three times.
“Everything, I guess,” Ruth said. “To make sure I’m doing and saying the right things.”
Irene patted Ruth’s back as if to stop her from choking. “Well, we’ll see to that.”
Lillian and Shirley parked themselves under the living room arch. Was it meant to be a surprise . . . or an ambush?
“This is Mrs. Appelbaum, girls,” Lillian said. “Ruth’s mother-in-law.”
The girls turned toward the announcement.
“Shirley was my etiquette teacher,” Lillian said. “She encouraged me to start teaching these lessons about five years ago, and she just popped in to say hello.”
Lillian and Shirley drifted into the room. Shirley smoothed her outfit, starting with her maroon sweater set, with its gold leaf-shaped pin fastened beneath her left shoulder, and ending with her tan-and-brown skirt. Hopefully she approved of Ruth choosing the same color for her purse and shoes today—that would mean Ruth had gotten one thing right.
“I’d like to do more than pop in,” Shirley said. “But it seems I’m not needed.”
“It’s not that, Shirl,” Lillian said.
“I’m sure Mrs. Appelbaum just wants to prove how well you’ve started the lessons,” Irene said. “And that she can trust you to do a good job.”
The unexpected support took Ruth aback, Irene’s brio instantly endearing. Did the double meaning skip over Shirley’s head—or land on it with a splat?
“Of course I trust Lillian,” Shirley said while looking at Ruth. “I only wanted to help.”
Splat.
“We’ve been having a lovely time,” Lillian said. “Trust me.”
“I do,” Shirley said, her face not betraying whether this was true or not.
Ruth was surprised at the cutting tone of Shirley’s voice. She had thought it was a voice reserved exclusively for her.
“We’ve already been practicing our gracious greetings,” Carrie said. “Ruth’s a natural.”
Shirley smiled with thin lips. “Is she?”
Why was that so hard to believe?