26
Ruth, the kids, and I went to Janet’s house an hour before the party started on Sunday to help set up.
Susie and Bobby ran right upstairs to play with Janet’s older kids, Jeanie and Kevin. I led Ruth through the house to the backyard, where Janet was smoking a cigarette on the back patio.
“I swear, the things I do that this child will never remember,” she said by way of greeting, while stubbing her cigarette out violently in an ashtray. “Why is there a pony in my backyard right now? I couldn’t tell you. If that thing craps on my azaleas, it’s going to be glue by tomorrow.”
“But it’s such good fertilizer,” Ruth said, completely unfazed.
“Until one of these brats tracks it all over my carpets,” Janet said, picking up a glass that should have held water at that time of day but was full of a darker liquid instead. “This just isn’t worth the stress. You’re lucky your kids have summer birthdays. Just throw them in a pool and be done.”
“How can we help?” I asked as the pony lifted his tail and left a deposit in the middle of the lawn.
“Hey!” Janet yelled at the trainer. “You need to clean that up!”
“Yes, ma’am,” the poor man said.
“I wouldn’t do that job for a million dollars,” Janet said. She checked her watch. “I suppose we can start putting out food. And pin the tail on the donkey.”
“Please tell me you have a paper donkey and aren’t going to let kids stick pins in the pony,” I said.
“It’s a thought,” she said, glowering at the creature. “But no. It’s on the dining room table ready to be tacked to a tree.”
“I’ll take care of that,” I said. “Ruth, could you help with the food?”
“One of the benefits of having a brother who owns a grocery store,” Janet said.
“Eddie brought over platters this morning. If I had to make a thousand sandwiches, I was going to lose my mind.” A blood-curdling shriek came from an open window upstairs and Janet turned toward it. “They’re probably fine, right?”
“I’m sure they are,” I said, patting her arm. But as Ruth and I went back into the house, I said I would handle the food and asked her to go check on the kids instead.
I watched Ruth go up the stairs, then went to the kitchen to make sure we had everything we needed.
Eddie, George, and Janet and Eddie’s father, Mr. Greene, were all at the kitchen table with bottles of beer. I caught Eddie’s eye and pointedly looked at my watch. He had the good grace to look mildly ashamed.
“It’s Sunday,” he said with a shrug. “And Janet has been throwing fits all day.”
George clinked his glass to Eddie’s, and I tried not to smile.
“Hi, Mr. Greene,” I said to his father. Then I turned back to Eddie.
“You know how she is with parties. Once the guests arrive, she’ll be just fine.
” Then I pointed to him and George. “But for now, I’m putting the two of you to work.
These trays of food need to go out on the patio table.
” I looked around the kitchen and spied a blue Coleman cooler in the corner. “Does that have ice in it yet?”
“It does,” Eddie said. “And Cokes.”
“Probably would have been smarter to fill it outside,” I said as I attempted to lug it across the floor.
“I’ve got it,” George said. He stood and finished his beer, then deposited the bottle in the trash can and carefully covered it with a napkin to hide the evidence from Janet.
“Here,” I said, reaching into my handbag and pulling out a roll of Wint-O-Green Life Savers. I offered it to the three men, who each took one. “I don’t think Janet will actually care—she’s got a drink of her own right now—but if you don’t want her to smell it on your breath ...”
“You’re a doll, Barbara,” George said gratefully.
“As long as you help set up,” I warned.
Footsteps came down the stairs, and Eddie and Mr. Greene hurried to dispose of their bottles as well. But it was Ruth who entered the kitchen.
“George, Mr. Greene, I’d like you to meet my mother-in—”
“Mrs. Feldman!” Mr. Greene exclaimed, a note of genuine pleasure in his voice.
Ruth’s lips parted slightly as she tried to place the man in front of her, and then she shook her head in surprise. “Mr. Greene,” she said. “Eddie said he was your son, but it didn’t occur to me that you would be here.”
“You two know each other?” George asked.
Mr. Greene smiled broadly. “My favorite customer from the days down on O Street. No one could pick a melon like she could.”
“No one had melons like you did back then.”
Eddie and I made eye contact and then quickly looked away from each other to avoid laughing.
“We’ll let you two catch up then,” Eddie said, picking up a tray of sandwiches. “Let me know if you need help with that cooler, George.”
George tried the handles. “I need help with the cooler.”
I took the tray from Eddie. “You two grab that, then come back for the rest. I’ll take this out and then get the plates.”
“What’s Janet doing?” Eddie asked.
I raised my eyebrows at him. “You know those fits you said she was having? She planned the party, invited everyone, and rented a pony. You leave her be for now.”
“Okay, okay,” Eddie said, grunting slightly as he lifted his half of the cooler. “You were right. Should have filled it outside.”
“I usually am,” I said with a smile. “Now come on.”
Everything was set up with ten minutes to spare before guests were due to arrive, and Paula woke up from her nap just in time.
Susie and Jeanie took over the small children, directing them to line up for the pony rides, while Bobby and Kevin declared themselves too big for “baby parties” and went to hide out in the treehouse, allowing only other boys over five to join them.
Beyond that, it looked like a dance before the band started playing, husbands on one side of the yard, sneakily passing around drinks, and the wives ostensibly supervising the children from the patio while chain-smoking cigarettes and complaining about their husbands.
It was nice to see the friends who had been a lot more scarce in the last two years. But I could have lived without all of them opening with “How are you?” I didn’t have a terminal disease. And I didn’t want to talk about (or be reminded of) the loss of Harry at a child’s birthday party.
Evelyn Gold was the only one who didn’t ask, and I appreciated her for it.
Though she had her hands full with her eldest trailing after Susie and Jeanie, her middle daughter monopolizing the pony, and her one-year-old, who wasn’t walking yet, on her hip.
“I know he’ll walk when he’s good and ready,” she said, “but if he gets any heavier, he’s going to have to be ready when I say he is. ”
I smiled at his chubby cheeks. “May I?” I asked, reaching for him.
“Please,” she said. “You can keep him.” The baby came to me willingly and scowled at his mother.
“Oh, stop with the face,” she said. “I’m only teasing, Richie.” Joanie began to cry when she didn’t get to stay on the pony, and Evelyn asked if I was good with him for a few minutes. I said of course, and Evelyn rushed off.
“You’re not so heavy,” I told him, inhaling the sweet scent of his hair as a tinge of sadness washed over me.
I probably would have had a third if Harry were still here.
I sighed and attempted to put the thought out of my head.
There was no use in dwelling. “But let’s see if we can’t help your mama out, huh? ”
I stood Richie up on the patio, holding his hands as I had done with Susie and Bobby and coaxed him into taking some steps with me. “You’re fooling everyone, aren’t you?” I asked him. “I bet you can walk if you want to.”
I extricated one hand from his and moved in front of him, gently removing my other hand and making sure he was steady on his feet.
He wobbled a little but didn’t fall, though his face started to crumble.
“It’s okay,” I said, crouching down as he reached for me.
“Just take a couple of steps. I’m right here. ”
Richie shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes.
“You can do it,” I said soothingly. “And your mama will be so happy.” For a few seconds, nothing happened.
Then Richie lifted one foot, moving it a half inch in front of where it had been.
“That’s it!” I said. “You’re doing it!” Buoyed by my enthusiasm, he did the same with the other foot.
“Again,” I said. And he did. Six tiny baby steps until he collapsed into my waiting arms.
Evelyn rushed over and took him from me. “You’re a miracle worker!” she exclaimed. Then she turned to Richie. “And you, you little stinker! You couldn’t do that for Mama?”
“I bet he will,” I said. “Here, give him back to me, and you stay right there.”
Richie came back to me and nestled into my shoulder, but I put him back on the ground in his little white shoes. “Show your mama what you can do,” I said. Evelyn held out her arms, and Richie stepped tentatively toward her.
Evelyn embraced him, then called to her husband. “Fred!” she said, gesturing wildly for him to come over. “Richie can walk!”
Fred guiltily handed the flask in his hand back to Linda Stein’s husband, and came toward us. “That’s wonderful, Evie,” he said.
Evelyn turned back to me. “Can I take you to lunch soon? It’s been too long, and we’ll be in Hereford again for the summer.”
“If a Monday works. It’s my day off from the hospital.”
“Sure,” Evelyn said. “I’ll find a sitter for this little guy.”
“That’ll be my Susie and your Anna before you know it.”
She looked toward the girls and smiled. “Such little mothers already. They grow up so fast.” Then she glanced toward her middle child and sighed.
“Joanie, on the other hand ... Do you know I caught her ‘punishing’ her baby doll by smacking it on the table the other day? I’m not so sure she’s cut out for kids. ”
I laughed. “She’s four, Evelyn. She’ll grow into it.” I saw Janet light another cigarette and then go scold the pony trainer for some unseen travesty. “Or not.”