Chapter 9 Moving Day
They hate phone calls. My mother bobs her head and mutters, “Emma, it is worlds away from here,” drawing the words from deep within. “You must take care.”
I nod and grab a bagel off the tray, taking a quick bite.
Sounding more like herself, she scolds, “Emma, sit and eat. Do not take the bagel and eat like those uncouth Americans, stuffing food into their mouths as they walk down the street.”
Sitting obediently, I take a few small bites but refuse to pour myself my usual half cup of coffee.
From this day forward, I will have tea with my breakfast, and I fight the urge to pound my fist on the table for effect, knowing my mother will think me mad.
I smile inwardly, noting ruefully that I don’t quite have the nerve to make myself a cup of tea, but tomorrow at Vee’s, just watch me.
Rising, I give my mother a brisk hug. As I release her, her hand clutches at my sleeve.
I hesitate, “Mama, will you be all right?”
Collecting herself, she says briskly, “Oh, of course we will. Papa has already hired someone. We will be fine.”
I quickly head down our hallway with my small valise in hand.
As I open the door, I call over my shoulder, “Bye, Mama. I will visit when I can.” Then I step out and shut the door behind me.
The excitement swells as I put a little distance between me and the apartment, and it’s as if the weight of being a Jablonski lightens and shifts. Knocking on Jake’s door, I feel taller, like I’m taking up a little more space in this world.
Vee is in her room, working to zip up one of the three large suitcases she has lying on the bed filled to overflowing.
Lovely outfits are in a pile, looking soft, expensive and beautiful.
They are all the colors of the rainbow. I spot her wheelie bag of makeup near her door, zipped up and ready to go.
She hasn’t opened it since she gave me my makeover.
In the one open corner of the bed, I flop down, “For some-
one whom I’ve only seen wearing leggings and sweatshirts, you certainly have a lot of clothes.”
She grins and responds lightly, “Ya never know when you’ll be invited to some party or outing, and at a moment’s notice, must don your armor. I’m super glad I never had to dig out a single thing these past weeks. Of course, with your cooking, I’m not sure I still fit into any of them.”
I look her up and down and shake my head. “You haven’t gained a single pound. You could eat a dozen pierogis, and you wouldn’t get a bump or a bulge.”
Vee darts across the room and gives me a hug.
“You’re such a doll. All the girls who have said those sorts of things to me in the past always sound like they’re conjuring up a hex.
But you sound like you mean it—all milk and honey with not a bit of vinegar.
You’re sooo sweet. Don’t let this mean old world change you. ”
I shrug embarrassed. Jake and Veronica have said things like that to me before, and I never quite know how to respond.
Jake pokes his head in Vee’s doorway and Vee shouts, “I am ready, my prince.”
Her enthusiasm is contagious. Jake does a jaunty bow and grabs for two of the bags. Taking my one medium-sized bag and Vee’s makeup suitcase, I leave her to wrestle with the ginormous one.
And we’re off.
It is a lovely day in October, and despite Vee’s protests, Jake and I win the argument, and we walk through the park for a bit before we head to Chelsea.
As we stroll along the sidewalks with trees and shrubs on either side, a feeling of peace seeps into my soul or into some part of my being, who knows for sure?
I pause and close my eyes for a brief minute.
The morning sun is shining down on my face, and I feel such a sense of relief.
I’m leaving my dreary room in that dreary apartment.
I didn’t under-stand until now how it all weighed me down: the stress of my grandmother, the bakery, the silence, my mother’s unpredictable illness, the Jablonski legacy.
The park always made these stresses bearable, spending time with the birds and the trees, but today the sensation of lightness keeps increasing the farther I walk away from 933 Fifth Avenue.
I may float away, like the leaves that are cascading down all around us.
Gripping the two bags I’m carrying tightly, as if they are keeping me anchored; I blink my eyes open and realize Jake has stopped and is watching me.
The wind tousles his copper hair; the fall leaves make a perfect backdrop, surrounding him with a warm palette of color.
A blush rises in my cheeks; I must look like a crazy person. Vee continues walking on up ahead.
Jake points to the ground a bit off the path and whispers, “Look at that bird.”
I turn and catch my breath. “Is it a palm warbler?”
Dropping Vee’s bag, I dig through my purse and pull out my guidebook, searching for the right page.
I look from the book to the bird on the ground with his little tail flitting up and down.
I struggle to suppress a shriek, “It is! It is!” and I impulsively turn and hug Jake, giddy with excitement.
“Thank you, thank you,” I gush. “I would have missed it. That’s a bird I’ve been trying to spot for years. ”
We both quietly watch the yellow-bellied and brown-speckled warbler with its lovely brown cap. The bird takes a few more hops, then disappears into the thick shrubbery, still pumping his tail.
“He needs to be heading south soon,” Jake says.
Grabbing my pen, I start to mark down the details in my bird log.
Jake shakes his head. “Really, you can’t wait until we get to Veronica’s to document the sighting?” he says sternly, but I see he is grinning.
Smiling, I say mock-primly, “I guess I’ll wait, since you asked so nicely and because you were the one who spotted a lifer for me.”
We turn and rush to catch up to Vee, who stopped a hundred feet ahead. I practically skip the entire way there.
As we near her, she asks in an exasperated tone, “What did you spot, Jake?”
“A palm warbler, can you believe it?” I rush. “Well, Jake actually spotted it, I would have missed it completely if not for him. Isn’t that so lucky?”
Jake frowns a little. Vee looks back and forth between us a few times, then shrugs and says flippantly, “A lot of excitement for a silly bird, eh?” and we continue our trek.
We enter Vee’s third-floor walk-up, dragging the bags behind us.
The hallway is bright yellow, and the large main room is a muted mossy green.
Everything feels bright and alive. There are black and white pictures of cityscapes on the walls: Paris, London, and a place called Dubai.
Each has the location and date printed in bold, black print below the frames.
The large room has comfortable couches around the edges and is open to an island kitchen like Jake’s, except this kitchen has warm wood stools and a lot of wood tones throughout.
I take a deep breath and my chest loosens.
“That’s your room.” Vee points me toward a door down the hallway.
Bag in hand, I open the door slowly. It is a lovely room painted light blue and trimmed in white with large windows that allow the sun to shine into the simple but elegant space.
As I start to unpack, a weird feeling fills my chest again.
I pause in my folding; I think the weird feeling is the feeling of being alive.
The bathroom through a side door has everything I could ever dream of, and it is all mine.
Mirrors, chrome, bright lights, some sort of fancy shower spout that is a large rectangle hanging down from the ceiling instead of the small spout we have in our apartment.
I take out my one bar of Dove soap but don’t see a soap dish, so I slip it back in the box to figure out later.
I lay my toothbrush and toothpaste on the edge of a glistening white sink that looks like no one has ever used it.
No water marks on the sink or rust stains around the handles.
I finish hanging my sparse wardrobe in the walk-in closet and do a little twirl and flop onto the bed.
Hearing voices, I pop up and head out of my room; Veronica and Jake are sitting at the kitchen island.
When I move back home, I’ll see if I can get Babcia and my parents to renovate and add an island to our kitchen.
I will tell them; they are all the rage.
They’ll think I’ve completely lost my mind, because of my MS or from being out in the world for five months.
I can just hear them saying, an island belongs in the ocean, not a kitchen. I break into a wide grin.
Jake looks up and sees me smiling, and his lip quirks. The sun is hitting his hair just so and I realize his hair is the same color as the cap of the palm warbler we just saw. They both have rust-colored streaks for a multi-toned color.
Following the sunbeams, I look up higher and see skylights and exclaim, “Skylights, I’ve always wanted skylights. Being able to watch the sun and the moon, how perfectly lovely.”
Veronica looks up and cocks her head as if she is seeing the skylights for the first time.
She laughs and muses, “I forgot I paid extra to rent the top floor of this building, solely because of those skylights. It’s been years since I’ve even noticed them.
” She pauses and continues wistfully, “Isn’t that sad and such a waste?
I wanted them so badly and paid through the nose for them, and I stopped appreciating them as soon as I moved in. Life is funny.”
Sighing sadly, she drifts out of the room, touching many items as she goes, as if reacquainting herself with her apartment after her month-long absence.
Jake and I sit together, not saying anything for a while.
It’s not an uncomfortable silence, but Jake breaks it when he leans over and asks, “You’ll keep an eye on her, right?
She seems fine now, but people are always trying to get her to make bad choices, and she is often too willing to oblige them. ”
I chew on my lip. “But what would I do? I’m not sure I even know what a bad choice is, never mind how to stop Vee from making one.”
Jake says confidently, “You know what is right and what is wrong, I can clearly see that. It’s just who you are.”
I knit my brows and shake my head. “But I’ve never even been to a party before.”
“Don’t worry,” he insists, “you’ll do the right thing.”
Just then Vee comes out of her room with an armful of colorful shirts and sweaters and other items. She throws them on the couch and says, “Here are a few things that should fit you. None of my pants will fit you, so we’ll need to pop down to Barneys for some bottoms and a few pairs of shoes.”
A flood of panic rises in my chest. “Oh. I have pants, and I brought shoes too.”
She shakes her head. “We need you to look the part, sweetie. You know—to keep the hounds at bay.”
Having no idea what she is talking about, I do know I don’t have money to pop down to Barneys.
I’m just glad I know what Barneys is, so I know for sure that I can’t afford a pair of socks from there, never mind some pants and shoes.
A sense of panic rises in my chest at the thought of standing at the cash register and pulling out my wallet with all my cash, which adds up to a paltry $155.
00. Paltry by Barney standards, but this is a huge amount for me.
I straighten my shoulders. I have no plans to spend it on clothes. Binoculars maybe, but not clothes.
Just as I’m getting ready to say no, Jake smoothly interjects, “Vee, you’ll be giving Emma an advance on her paycheck to cover these essentials, right?”
Vee pauses and looks quizzically at Jake, then at me.
“Oh, we can expense this. You don’t need to spend your hard-earned money on pants and shoes.
The agency will never know if they are for you or for me.
I have plenty of clothing stipends to cover this—unless you plan on buying out the store.
” She puts her hands on her narrow hips and looks at me sternly.
“You aren’t going to buy out the store, are you? ”
We all laugh. How nice and considerate they both are, even though clearly the concept of not having enough money to buy a few pairs of pants and shoes is completely foreign to them.
Over the next few days, we poke around Vee’s neighborhood, buying a few essentials at Barneys, as well as buying some makeup of my own from a store that only sells makeup. I had no idea such a thing existed.
With Vee at my side, New York looks and feels differently.
It’s as if Chelsea is a fresh start, and everything and everyone is seeing a new Emma.
People treat me differently. But I’m not sure if that is because some of Vee’s shine is reflecting on me or because I’m not so weighed down by the Jablonski legacy now that I’m out of my family’s apartment.