Just Around the Corner: Romance en casserole
"Such a supper we got you'll have to excuse, Miss Cohn. Abie, take them
German papers off the chair. Miss Cohn can sit out here a minute if she
don't mind such heat. If Abie had taken the trouble to tell me you was
coming I'd have fixed--"
"I am glad you don't fix no extras for me, Mrs. Ginsburg. I like to take
just pot-luck."
"Abie likes _Pfannkuechen_ and pot-roast better than the finest I can fix
him, and this morning at Fulton Market I seen such grand green beans;
and I said to Yetta, 'I fix 'em sweet-sour for supper; he likes them
so.'"
"I love sweet-sour beans, too, Mrs. Ginsburg. My landlady fixes all
them German dishes swell."
"Well, you don't mind that I don't make no extras for you? You had a
nice vacation? I tell Abie he should take one himself--not? He worked
hisself sick last week. I was scared enough about him. Abie, why don't
you find a chair for yourself? Why you stand there like--like--"
Even as she spoke the red suddenly ran out of Mrs. Ginsburg's face,
leaving it the color of oysters packed in ice.
"Abie!"
For answer Mr. Ginsburg crossed the room and took his mother in a
wide-armed embrace, so that his mouth was close to her ear. His lips
were pale and tinged with a faintly green aura, like a child's who holds
his breath from rage or a lyceum reader's who feels the icy clutch of
stage-panic on him.
"Mamma, we--we--me and Ruby got a surprise-party for you. Guess,
mamma--such a grand surprise for you!"
Mrs. Ginsburg placed her two fists against her son's blue shirt-front,
threw back her head, and looked into his eyes; her heavy waist-line
swayed backward against his firm embrace; immediate tears sprang into
her eyes.
"Abie! Abie!"
"Mamma, look how happy you should be! Ain't you always wanted a
daughter, mamma? For joy she cries, Ruby."
"Abie, my boy! _Ach_, Miss Cohn, you must excuse me."
"Aw, now, mamma, don't cry so. Look! You make my shoulder all wet--shame
on you! You should laugh like never in your life! Ruby, you and mamma
kiss right away--you should get to know each other now."
"_Ach_, Miss Cohn, you must excuse me. I always told him I mustn't stand
in his way; but what that boy is to me, Miss Cohn--what--what--"
"Ruby--mamma, call her Ruby. Ain't she your little Ruby as much as
mine--now, ain't she?"
"Yes; come here, Ruby, and let me kiss you. Since poor papa's gone you
can never know what that boy has been to me, Ruby--such a son; not out
of the house would he go without me! It's like I was giving away my
heart to give him up--like I was tearing it right out from inside of me!
_Ach_, but how glad I am for him!"
"Aw, mamma--like you was giving me up!"
Mr. Ginsburg swallowed with such difficulty that the tears sprang into
his eyes.
"I ain't taking him away from you, Mrs. Ginsburg--he's your son as much
as ever--and more."
"Call her mamma, Ruby--just like I do."
"Mamma! Just don't you worry, mamma; it's going to be grand for you and
me and all of us."
"Hear her, mamma, how she talks! Ain't she a girl for you?"
"You--you children mustn't mind me--I'm an old woman. You go in the
front room, and I'll be all right in a minute--so happy I am for my
boy. You bad boy, you--not to tell your mamma the other night!"
"Mamma, so help me, I didn't know it myself till I seen her come back
to-day so pretty, and all--I just felt it inside of me all of a sudden."
"Aw, Abe--ain't he the silly talker, Mrs. Ginsburg?--mamma! You mustn't
cry, mamma; we'll make it grand for you."
"Ain't I the silly one myself to cry when I'm so happy for you? I'll be
all right in a minute--so happy I am!"
"Ruby, you tell mamma how grand it'll be."
Miss Cohn placed her arms about Mrs. Ginsburg's neck, stood on tiptoe,
and kissed her on the tear-wet lips.
"You always got a home with us, mamma. Me and Abie wouldn't be engaged
this minute if it wasn't that you would always have a home with us."
With one swoop Mr. Ginsburg gathered the two women in a mutual embrace
that strained his arms from their sockets; his voice was taut, like one
who talks through a throat that aches.
"My little mamma and my little Ruby--ain't it?"
Mrs. Ginsburg dried her eyes on a corner of her apron and smiled at them
with fresh tears forming instantly.
"He's been a good boy, Ruby. I only want that he should make just so
good a husband. I always said the girl that gets him does well enough
for herself. I don't want to brag on my own child, but--if--"
"Aw, mamma!"
"But, if I do say it myself, he's been a good boy to his mother."
"Now, mamma, don't begin--"
"I always said to him, Ruby, looks in a girl don't count the most--such
girls as you see nowadays, with their big ideas, ain't worth house-room.
I always say to him, Ruby, a girl that ain't ashamed to work and knows
the value of a dollar, and can help a young man save and get a start
without such big ideas like apartments and dummy waiters--"
"Honest, wouldn't you think this was a funeral! Mamma, to-night we have
a party--not? I go down and get up that bottle of wine!"
"_Himmel!_ My _Pfannkuechen_! Yes, Abie, run down in the cellar; on the
top shelf it is, under the grape-jelly row--left yet from poor papa's
last birthday. _Ach_, Ruby, you should have known poor papa--that such a
man could have been taken before his time! Sit down, Ruby, while I dish
up."
The tears dried on Mrs. Ginsburg's cheeks, leaving the ravages of dry
paths down them; Mr. Ginsburg's footsteps clacked down the bare flight
of stairs.
"Abie! Oh, Abie!"
"Yes, mamma!"
His voice came up remotely from two flights down, like a banshee voice
drifting through a yellow sheol of dim-lit hallway.
"Abe, bring up some dill pickles from the jar--there's a dish in the
closet."
"Yes, I bring them."
Between the two women fell silence--a silence that in its brief moment
spawned the eggs of a thousand unborn thoughts.
From her corner the girl regarded the older woman with a nervous
diffidence, her small, black-satin feet curled well inward and round the
rungs of the chair.
"I--I hope you ain't mad at me, Mrs. Ginsburg--you ain't more surprised
than me."
A note as thin as sheet tin crept into Mrs. Ginsburg's voice.
"He's my boy, Ruby, and what he wants I want. I know you ain't the kind
of a girl, Ruby, that won't help my boy along--not? Extravagant ways and
high living never got a young couple nowheres. Abie should take out a
thousand more life insurance now; and, with economical ways, you got a
grand future. For myself I don't care--I ain't so young any more, and--"
"You always got a home with us, Mrs. Ginsburg. You won't know yourself,
you'll have it so good! If we move you with us out of this dark little
flat we--you won't know yourself, you'll have it so good!"
"I hope you ain't starting out with no big ideas, Ruby--this flat ain't
so dark but it could be worse. For young people with good eyes it should
do all right. If it was good enough for Abie's papa and me it--"
Mr. Ginsburg burst into the kitchen, a wine-bottle tucked under one arm
and a white china dish held at arm's-length.
"Such pickles as mamma makes, Ruby, you never tasted! You should learn
how. You two can get out here in the kitchen, with your sleeves rolled
up to your elbows, and such housekeeping times you can have! I'll get
dill down by Anchute's like last year--not, mamma?... Come; we sit down
now. We can all eat in the kitchen, mamma. Don't make company out of
Ruby--she knows we got a front room to eat in if we want it. Come and
sit down, Ruby, across from mamma, so we get used to it right away--sit
here, you little Ruby-la, you!"
Mr. Ginsburg exuded radiance like August bricks exude the heat of day.
He kissed Miss Cohn playfully under the pink lobe of each ear and
repeated the performance beneath Mrs. Ginsburg's not so pink lobes;
carved the gravy-oozing slices of pot-roast with a hand that was no less
skilful because it trembled under pressure of a sublime agitation.
"Ruby, I learn you right away--we always got to save mamma the heel of
the bread, 'cause she likes it."
Miss Cohn smiled and regarded Mr. Ginsburg from the left corner of each
eye.
"I wasn't so slow learning the shoe business, was I, Abe?"
"You look at me so cute-like, and I'll come over to you right this
minute! Look at her, mamma, how she flirts with me--just like it wasn't
all settled."
"Abie, pass Ruby the beans. Honest, for a beau, you don't know
nothing--your papa was a better beau as you. Pass her the beans. Don't
you see she ain't got none? You two with your love-making! You remind me
of me and poor papa; he--he--"
"Now, mamma, don't you go getting sad again like a funeral."
"I ain't, Abie. I'm--so happy--for you."
"To-night we just play, and to-morrow mamma decides when we get
married--not, Ruby? We do like she wants it--to-night we just play.
Ruby, pass your glass and mamma's, and we drink to our three selves with
claret."
Mr. Ginsburg poured with agitated hand, and the red in his face mounted
even as the wine in the glass.
"To the two grandest women in the world! May we all be happy and
prosperous from to-night!" Mr. Ginsburg swung his right arm far from him
and brought his glass round to his lips in a grand semi-circle. "To the
two grandest women in the world!"
Mrs. Ginsburg tipped the glass against her lips.
"To my two children! God bless them and poor papa!"
"The first time I ever seen mamma drink wine, Ruby. She hates it--that
shows how much she likes you already. Eat your dessert, mamma; it'll
take the taste away. You like noodle dumplings? Such dumplings as these
you should learn to make, Ruby-la."
"Children, you have had enough supper?"
"It was a grand supper, mamma."
They scraped their chairs backward from the table and smiled satiated,
soul-deep smiles. From the sitting-room a clock chimed the half-hour.
"So late, children! _Ach_, how time flies when there's excitement! You
and Ruby go in the parlor--I do the dishes so quick you won't know it."
"Ruby can help you with the dishes, mamma."
"Sure I can; we can do 'em in a hurry, and then go maybe to a picture
show or some place."
"Picture show--nine o'clock!"
"There's always two shows, Mrs. Ginsburg--the second don't begin till
then. I always go to the second show--it's always the liveliest."
"Come on, mamma; you and Ruby do the dishes, and we go. It's a grand
night, and for once late hours won't hurt you."
"_Ach_, you ain't got no time for a old lady like me--in the night air I
get rheumatism. Abie can tell you how on cool nights like this I get
rheumatism. You two children go. I'm sleepy already. These few dishes I
can do quicker as with you, Ruby."
"Without you we don't go--me and Ruby won't go then."
"We won't go, then, like Abe says--we won't go then."
"Abie, if it pleases me that you go to the picture show for an hour--you
can do that much for mamma the first night you're engaged; some other
night maybe I go too. Let me stay at home, Abie, and get my sleep like
always."
"Ah, mamma, you're afraid. I know you even get scared when the bed-post
creaks. We stay home, too."
"Ruby, for me will you make him go?"
"Abie, if your mamma wants you to go for an hour--you go. If she comes,
too, we're glad; but many a night I've stayed in the boarding-house
alone. If you was afraid you'd say so--wouldn't you, Mrs.
Ginsburg--mamma?"
"Afraid of what? Nobody won't steal me!"
"Sure, mamma?"
"Get Ruby's hat and coat, Abie. Good-by, you children, you! Have a good
time. Abie, stop with your nonsense--on the nose he has to kiss me!"
"Ruby, just as easy we can stay at home with mamma--not?"
"Sure! Aw, Abe, don't you know how to hold a girl's coat? So clumsy he
is!"
"Good night, Ruby. I congratulate you on being my daughter. Good night,