37
I scooped Paula out of her stroller after my own children walked into school Monday morning. “Are you ready for an Auntie Barbara day?” I asked, spinning her around in the air.
“Yay!” Paula squealed. Then her little eyes narrowed. “I get ice-skeem lunch.”
“You do not , you little fibber,” Janet said.
I smiled at Janet over Paula’s head. “I’ve got two of my own,” I reminded her. Then I whispered in Paula’s ear, “Ice cream dessert .” Paula put her tiny hands on either side of my face and pulled me in close, kissing my nose.
“You my best fwend, Auntie Bawba.”
“And you’re mine, darling. Now come on. Let’s let Mama go get even more gorgeous.”
Janet shook her head. “She’s going to be even more spoiled than usual when I pick her up, isn’t she?”
I shrugged playfully. “It’s entirely possible. Now go have fun. My little best friend and I have a date.”
Janet faked a glower. “First she ruins my figure, then she steals my best friend. It’s a good thing you’re cute, kiddo.”
Paula blew a raspberry and Janet laughed, kissed me on the cheek, and then left.
“Now,” I said, “what do you think about going to visit Uncle Eddie at his store?”
“Yay!” she said again. “Unka Eddie Aways give me candy.” Then she turned serious. “You no tell Mama.”
I mimed crossing my heart. “I won’t tell a soul,” I said.
But secretly, I was relieved to have Paula with me while seeing Eddie for the first time since ... well, since nothing actually happened Saturday night. She would ensure a sense of normalcy. And he would see that there was nothing untoward and we could remain friends.
I hoped.
We arrived at the store, and I held Paula’s hand through the parking lot, matching my steps to hers before settling her in the seat of a shopping cart, taking a deep breath, and going inside.
Eddie was at the front of the store, looking at his watch when we walked in. “Unka Eddie!” Paula screeched. “Auntie Bawba bwing me today!”
I felt my cheeks grow warm at the use of Uncle and Auntie together, but if Eddie noticed anything amiss, he didn’t let on. “That was sweet of her,” Eddie said. “What’s Janet up to?”
“Hair appointment,” I said. “And I wanted a little Paula time.”
“You’re a good friend,” Eddie said, and I wanted to confess that I hadn’t been a good enough friend if Janet felt she couldn’t ask me for help. He was the one person I could have said that to. But not in front of Paula. And it was too heavy a conversation for a Monday morning at the store.
I looked around him. “Your father didn’t come in today?”
Eddie raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Oh, you don’t know?”
“Don’t know what?”
“Come on,” he said, taking the cart from me, pushing Paula as I followed.
We wound up at the back of the store, watching from a few aisles over as Mr. Greene stood at the deli counter sampling a platter of meats, a gigantic wicker basket on the floor next to him. I looked at Eddie questioningly.
“He’s taking Ruth on a picnic today.”
“A picnic? At their age?”
Eddie looked at me, amused. “Are you ever too old for a picnic?”
“Well, no, but how will they stand up once they’re on the ground? Someone is going to need to call the fire department.”
Eddie laughed and Mr. Greene looked over.
“Barbara, thank goodness. Which does Ruth prefer? Tongue or corned beef.”
“Please say tongue,” Eddie whispered, then laughed again.
“Corned beef,” I called back, elbowing him. “I’m not getting stuck with her for life over your father’s lack of taste in meats,” I whispered.
“So I’m going to be stuck with her, then?”
I grinned. “Having a stepmother isn’t so bad. It worked out for Cinderella—in the end that is.”
He tried to glare at me but couldn’t hold it, and I felt relief wash through my body. Eddie wasn’t going anywhere. It had just been the hour and the close space the other night. We were fine. Even if I did feel like there was some kind of strange static electricity in the space between us now.
I took control of the cart and pushed it over to the deli counter. “Come on,” I told Mr. Greene. “I’ll help you pick out other things she likes.” I peered into the picnic basket to see what he had already gathered, while he kissed Paula on the forehead.
“You know, I knew her order by heart twenty years ago, but now ...”
I smiled at him. “Did you know all your customers’ orders? Or just the pretty widows’?”
His chest puffed up. “I’ll have you know, I’d never do anything inappropriate—”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” I said, putting a hand on his arm. “I meant because it helped her.”
He settled. “I wished I could have done more, honestly. I always liked her. And now that I know what it’s like to ...” He shook his head. “Do you believe in bashert ?”
I froze. Did I? It was the Yiddish concept of things being meant to be, specifically in terms of soulmates. Of course Harry had been mine. But did that mean I was now destined to be alone for the rest of my life?
“I think it was bashert that she came back into my life, now,” he confided. My eyes drifted toward Eddie, who was straightening a display of jars at the end of an aisle near us. “It’s not good for people to be alone for too long.”
“Pop,” Eddie warned without turning around.
“What?” he asked. “Your mother’s greatest wish was for you to find someone too. But even she didn’t want me to be alone.”
“She didn’t?” he asked.
“What kind of love is that?” Mr. Greene asked. “Where you want someone to be miserable after you’re gone? No. We talked about that.”
Harry and I had too, of course. And he’d said the same. But there was a big difference between the hypothetical situation and the reality of losing a spouse. Then again, there was a big difference between being alone for two years like I had and being alone for over twenty like Ruth.
“Ruth loves olives,” I blurted out to stop my racing thoughts. “You should bring olives.”
“Olives it is, then,” Mr. Greene said. “What else?”
“Pickles—but no cabbage.”
“I yike yoyipops,” Paula said hopefully.
Eddie reached into his pocket and pulled one out for her. “I always keep one on me for my best girl.”
I leaned in and mock-whispered. “I’m telling Susie you said that.”
Eddie chuckled and reached back into his pocket, pulling out another lollipop, which he offered to me. “I’m not above bribes.”
I plucked the candy from his hand and winked. “What Susie doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
“How does Ruth feel about herring with kichel?” Mr. Greene called from down by the fish counter.
“What kind of picnic is he packing?” I asked Eddie, thoroughly disgusted at the thought of herring in the hot sun.
Eddie shrugged. “I don’t pretend to understand their generation.”
“Everything in that basket is going to smell like fish,” I said, groaning. “Which Ruth might not mind, with the way she cooks, but that’s terrible.”
I pushed Paula down toward her grandfather. “Simpler is probably better for a picnic,” I warned. “Why don’t we go look at some fruit? Ruth always talks about your eye for produce.” I picked up his already-heavy picnic basket and set it in my shopping cart to make it easier for him.
“Such a good daughter-in-law,” he said. “Shame about the cooking, but that’s nothing compared to the kindness you show.”
I counted to five in my head. “Thank you,” I said through marginally gritted teeth. That woman was going to be the death of me if this relationship didn’t pan out.