The Two-Family House

“Yes, Aunt Helen,” they chorused.

Helen took Judith aside before she went upstairs. “If anything changes, come up and get me right away.”

Judith was worried. “You don’t think the baby is coming, do you?”

Helen tried to be reassuring. “Everything will be fine, honey. Your mother and I have had seven babies between the two of us. We know how to handle this. You don’t need to worry.”

Upstairs, a pile of schoolbags and books greeted Helen at the door. The younger boys were scavenging in the cabinets, looking for something to eat.

“We’re starving! There’s no food!”

“What about that bowl of apples right there?” She pointed to a yellow bowl on the table, full of Granny Smiths. “Where’s Harry?”

“In his room,” Sam told her. “He said he doesn’t feel good.”

“You boys start your homework. I’ll go check on him.”

“But, Mom! We want to go out in the snow first!” said Joe.

“Mrs. Connors said we’re going to have a blizzard!” said Sam.

“Nonsense,” Helen insisted. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. “You can go outside now but just for an hour. It’ll be dark by then and I want you all back home.”

“We will!”

“One hour. And put on your hats and your gloves. And your boots! It’s freezing out!”

The boys rushed to find everything they needed and ran outside. Helen went to go check on Harry.

She knocked on the door of the room that Harry shared with Sam. She pushed the door open to find Harry lying on his bed. His back was to her.

“Are you sleeping?”

“Nope.” Harry didn’t move.

“Are you sick?”

“Nope.”

Helen felt her frustration rise. She knew teenage boys weren’t much for conversation but the monosyllabic responses were getting on her nerves.

“Harry, what’s going on? You never lie down in the middle of the day.”

He must have shrugged his shoulders, but it was hard to tell because he was lying down. “I’m going to go start on dinner. If you want to talk, I’m in the kitchen. Your brothers are out in the snow, so nobody’s here except you and me.” She was closing the door when Harry sat up.

“Susan broke up with me,” he said. “She didn’t even say why or anything. She just came over to me at the end of school with all her girlfriends and said she had to tell me something. After she told me, that new kid Robert took her books and she walked home with him. It was like they had the whole thing planned out. I felt like an idiot.” He flung his head back on the pillow.

“Are you upset because Susan isn’t your girlfriend anymore or because you feel like she made a fool of you?”

“Both. I hate how she got to decide what would happen. And I had no choice.”

“Oh honey, I’m sorry.” There were so many things Helen wanted to tell him then, things she didn’t know how to explain. Like how you couldn’t always be in control of your life and how so many things just happened, whether you wanted them to or not. She remembered feeling that way when her mother had died. There were no choices then either, except for what dress to wear to the funeral.

It wasn’t just tragedy that stripped you of control, Helen wanted to explain. It was the good things too. For one, you couldn’t choose who to fall in love with. Before Abe, there had been a wealthy young man from Connecticut she had met at a dance one summer, the cousin of a close family friend. He was handsome and rich, and Helen’s father said that if she married him, her life would be easy. She knew her father was partly right, and she wanted to like the young man. But no matter what she told herself, she came home from every date lonelier than the one before. When he proposed six weeks later, Helen said no, even though the diamond he offered was ten times the size of the one she wore now. She thought of Rose downstairs, knitting baby blankets, and knew it would be the same for both of them when the babies came: you couldn’t choose your children either, no matter how much wishing or knitting you were capable of.

*

When the phone rang, it was close to five. The boys were just returning, dripping melting snow from their coats and gloves. A trail of icy droplets followed them from the front door to the hall closet.

Helen felt better hearing Abe’s voice, but she wasn’t sure how much to tell him.

“Everything is fine,” she said. But then she couldn’t help herself. “There’s a chance Rose may be having labor pains.”

“What!”

“She didn’t want me to tell you. It’s probably too early anyway. She’s not due for weeks. She doesn’t want you and Mort to rush home.”

“We couldn’t even if we wanted to. There’s a foot of snow on the ground here, and it’s coming down fast. How’s it up there?”

“Not too bad,” she lied. “I haven’t been outside.”

“We’re not going to be able to get out of here until tomorrow morning. What should I tell Mort?”

“Don’t tell him anything. I don’t want Rose to get upset with me. Hopefully nothing will happen.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Me? I’m fine.” That was her second lie. The truth was she had been feeling strange all afternoon. She hadn’t been able to tolerate any food all day.

“All right. We’ll leave first thing in the morning, as early as we can.”

“Drive slowly.”

“I will.”

She was getting dinner ready when Mimi and Dinah knocked.

“Mommy has a stomachache,” Mimi told her, “but she said you don’t need to come down. Can we have dinner with you?”

“Of course! Boys! Mimi and Dinah are here!”

Helen settled the girls at the kitchen table with some paper and crayons while she finished getting dinner ready. Miraculously, George and Joe sat down to draw with them. It was a sweet domestic scene, even if it was only borrowed for the evening. By the time they were all fed and the kitchen was clean, Helen was exhausted.

So this is what it’s like to feed six children, she thought. She looked up at the clock—it was a few minutes past seven. Helen told Harry she was putting him in charge while she went downstairs to check on Rose.

The terrified looked on Judith’s face when she opened the door brought Helen to her senses. How could she have left Judith alone like that! For heaven’s sake, the girl was only twelve years old! With new determination, Helen walked into the bedroom to confront Rose. “I’m calling the doctor now,” she said. “This has gone on long enough.”

This time Rose didn’t argue. Her hair was wild and matted against her pillow. “All right,” she said to Helen. “Call him.”





Chapter 15





ROSE


When Helen came back from the kitchen into her bedroom, Rose knew something was wrong. Helen had been on the phone for twenty minutes. It was too long. Rose pulled the blanket up to her chest as far as it would go. “What did Dr. Blauner say?”

“I didn’t speak to him,” Helen said. “He’s not on call today. They’ve been trying to reach him, but the storm knocked out the telephone service where he lives—on Long Island somewhere.” Helen looked lost, like she didn’t know where to stand in the room.

“Well, what about Dr. Lowell? Or the other one? What’s his name again?”

“None of them are at the hospital. They went home early because of the storm.”

Rose tried to slow her breathing. “Well, there are dozens of doctors there. I’m sure they’re all good. When is the ambulance coming?”

When Helen didn’t answer, Rose pushed the blankets off of her. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and headed toward the closet in the corner. Helen’s silence agitated her. “I can be ready in five minutes,” she jabbered. “My bag is already packed. Maybe Judith will come with me. You don’t mind if Mimi and Dinah stay with you tonight?”

“Rose—”

“Do you think Judith should stay with you? I guess I don’t mind going to the hospital alone. I’ll be fine. I know what to expect.”

Helen took her arm. “It’s not coming,” she said.

“What’s not coming?”

Lynda Cohen Loigman's books