Read Online Chains Around the Grass by Naomi Ragen - Free Book Online
Authors: Naomi Ragen
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speak. It’s enough already.”
“Sure, you’re right. Bygones.” Is there forgiveness in my heart? Dave asked himself, that my own brother preferred to take in a stranger to his business over his own flesh and blood? That he could have helped me and didn’t? He searched Reuben’s eyes. Yes, there was. That too, among many other things. He rubbed his hands together. “If you’re serious, give me a ring. I’ll think about it.”
Rita brought out a small silver tray with cakes. “Take, kids, but be careful with the little crumbs. And maybe you should wash your hands first.”
Jesse drew his hand back, offended, but Sara stuffed her mouth full, shoving the cakes in whole before her aunt could change her mind. She was enjoying herself tremendously until she looked up and saw all eyes—including her aunt’s—upon her.
“Be careful not to choke, darling,” Rita said dryly. Reuben suddenly got up. “I’ll show you the house.”
A really wealthy person, one with real taste and discernment, would have smiled at the offer—and at the house. It was all canned taste, bought by the pound. Department store Louis XIV. But for Dave and Ruth and the children, it was like a fairyland. They followed him through what they perceived to be huge rooms, full of light and air and warm, polished objects: carousel horses and brass trays, and tables of dark wood. There were damask curtains and carpets your toes got lost in.
“This used to be Thelma’s room.”
“How is my niece? Still at that fancy Boston college?” Dave wanted to know.
Reuben cleared his throat uncomfortably. “That was years ago. Dropped out. Now she’s in California. Her husband is a nuclear something. Makes a good living, bottom line, you know.”
“Kids?”
Rita shrugged. “She has trouble with her tubes. I told her not to be in such a big hurry. What does she need it for? She’s young yet, she should enjoy. But she wants babies, you know how it is. So, doctors, all the time doctors…” She shook her head at the foolishness of it all.
Sara stared at the four-poster bed dressed in lavender and white frills, looking as if any moment it would get up and dance. The furniture was all white and gold, bathed in a lavender glow from the sheer curtains. She longed to lay down in that bed, to bathe forever in the transforming glow of that lavender light.
The rest of the house flipped by them like the slick pages of a magazine, until their heads swum with undigested images of gold framed mirrors, gleaming copper pots, and crystal perfume atomizers. Even the water in the bathroom was better, Sara rejoiced, watching it bubble over her hand softly, instead of pelting it.
This—Sara thought, experiencing a conviction as powerful as any person undergoing a religious conversion—is what it means to be happy.
“And here’s the garden,” Reuben said, opening the patio doors.
“Sara!” Ruth cried out, mortified.
“It’s all right. Leave her, leave her,” Reuben chuckled magnanimously as the child rolled over and over, laughing, on the lush green lawn, breathing in the sweet fragrance of the tender grass, of safety, of privacy, of ownership…
“Look at her, look at her!” Rita shook her head, disapprovingly.
Dave watched the child, a smile frozen on his face, his heart aching.
“While you’re in the visiting mood,” Reuben interrupted, sending his wife a withering look, “go see Sylvia. She lives ten minutes from here, with the Gelts. Multi-millionaires. She always complains how you don’t keep in touch.”
“So, how is my sister?”
Reuben shrugged. “Sylvia’s all right.”
“How good can it be for a childless widow?” Rita interjected, shaking her head.
“It could be a lot worse,” Reuben said sharply. “Fifteen years she’s been alone, you know,” the critical, accusatory edge in his voice sharpened.
Dave shifted uncomfortably. He hadn’t come to his brother-in-law’s funeral, hadn’t even paid a shiva call… If he
“Sure, you’re right. Bygones.” Is there forgiveness in my heart? Dave asked himself, that my own brother preferred to take in a stranger to his business over his own flesh and blood? That he could have helped me and didn’t? He searched Reuben’s eyes. Yes, there was. That too, among many other things. He rubbed his hands together. “If you’re serious, give me a ring. I’ll think about it.”
Rita brought out a small silver tray with cakes. “Take, kids, but be careful with the little crumbs. And maybe you should wash your hands first.”
Jesse drew his hand back, offended, but Sara stuffed her mouth full, shoving the cakes in whole before her aunt could change her mind. She was enjoying herself tremendously until she looked up and saw all eyes—including her aunt’s—upon her.
“Be careful not to choke, darling,” Rita said dryly. Reuben suddenly got up. “I’ll show you the house.”
A really wealthy person, one with real taste and discernment, would have smiled at the offer—and at the house. It was all canned taste, bought by the pound. Department store Louis XIV. But for Dave and Ruth and the children, it was like a fairyland. They followed him through what they perceived to be huge rooms, full of light and air and warm, polished objects: carousel horses and brass trays, and tables of dark wood. There were damask curtains and carpets your toes got lost in.
“This used to be Thelma’s room.”
“How is my niece? Still at that fancy Boston college?” Dave wanted to know.
Reuben cleared his throat uncomfortably. “That was years ago. Dropped out. Now she’s in California. Her husband is a nuclear something. Makes a good living, bottom line, you know.”
“Kids?”
Rita shrugged. “She has trouble with her tubes. I told her not to be in such a big hurry. What does she need it for? She’s young yet, she should enjoy. But she wants babies, you know how it is. So, doctors, all the time doctors…” She shook her head at the foolishness of it all.
Sara stared at the four-poster bed dressed in lavender and white frills, looking as if any moment it would get up and dance. The furniture was all white and gold, bathed in a lavender glow from the sheer curtains. She longed to lay down in that bed, to bathe forever in the transforming glow of that lavender light.
The rest of the house flipped by them like the slick pages of a magazine, until their heads swum with undigested images of gold framed mirrors, gleaming copper pots, and crystal perfume atomizers. Even the water in the bathroom was better, Sara rejoiced, watching it bubble over her hand softly, instead of pelting it.
This—Sara thought, experiencing a conviction as powerful as any person undergoing a religious conversion—is what it means to be happy.
“And here’s the garden,” Reuben said, opening the patio doors.
“Sara!” Ruth cried out, mortified.
“It’s all right. Leave her, leave her,” Reuben chuckled magnanimously as the child rolled over and over, laughing, on the lush green lawn, breathing in the sweet fragrance of the tender grass, of safety, of privacy, of ownership…
“Look at her, look at her!” Rita shook her head, disapprovingly.
Dave watched the child, a smile frozen on his face, his heart aching.
“While you’re in the visiting mood,” Reuben interrupted, sending his wife a withering look, “go see Sylvia. She lives ten minutes from here, with the Gelts. Multi-millionaires. She always complains how you don’t keep in touch.”
“So, how is my sister?”
Reuben shrugged. “Sylvia’s all right.”
“How good can it be for a childless widow?” Rita interjected, shaking her head.
“It could be a lot worse,” Reuben said sharply. “Fifteen years she’s been alone, you know,” the critical, accusatory edge in his voice sharpened.
Dave shifted uncomfortably. He hadn’t come to his brother-in-law’s funeral, hadn’t even paid a shiva call… If he
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