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Authors: Iris Rainer Dart
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eating when she was a child. During dinner, in a rare moment, her mother even reminisced about Martin and Jeffrey. "When they were little boys they used to say, 'Ma, when we grow up, we'll have a double wedding. It'll be the biggest party in the world, and you and Daddy will be the king and the queen of the wedding.There'll be lots of cake and dancing with an orchestra just like at our bar mitzvahs.' "
"But," her father jumped in, "I told them the difference will be that I don't have to pay for it," and then he added, "I was kidding them, because for a wedding, the father of the bride always pays."
A silence fell over the table then as the three of them ate the matzoh ball soup. All of them were thinking the same thought. That in this family there had been no bride.
Davis. Wouldn't her parents love him, Ruthie thought. Okay, he was divorced, or soon to be divorced, but
that
they could forgive. Once they talked to him and he laid on the charm, her mother would melt, and her father would say, "A good head on his shoulders."
"I have a boyfriend," she said quietly. Her mother dropped the spoon into her soup dish.
"Besides that Sheldon?" she asked.
That Sheldon. After all these years she still referred to Shelly as "that Sheldon."
"So who?" her father asked.
"He's a lawyer. An entertainment lawyer. Jewish."
With every word she could see her mother sit up straighter. Maybe this was a bad idea. Premature. Davis hadn't even kissed her yet.
"Divorced," she said.
"Well," her mother said quickly. "That happens."
For a while there was no sound but the slurping of soup, until her mother had a thought she couldn't hold inside.
"Listen," she said, "Molly Sugarman's daughter, Phyllis, didn't have her first baby until she was forty years old, and the baby is perfect."
"Ethel, please," said her father, "first let's meet the guy and then we'll talk babies."
"Why not plan ahead? You think it's so easy to get a party room at Webster Hall? Sometimes you need to call six months in advance."
"Ruthie," her father said, turning to her seriously, "you'll give us notice? And you won't elope?"
"I promise, Daddy."
That night, after her parents were asleep, she lay in her old bed, remembering the other day when Davis drove her to the airport, and hugged her close, saying he would miss her. She had smiled about that for the entire flight. Tomorrow she'd be back in L.A. and things with him would probably start to get serious. God, she could hardly wait.
Just before she turned over to go to sleep she realized it was only eight o'clock in Los Angeles. She probably should call home and see how old Shel was doing without her. She picked up the receiver of the pink phone her parents had given her when she was sixteen and called her own number in Los Angeles.
"H'lo."
"Hi, it's me."
"Ruthie!" Shelly said, in a very loud voice. "Uh . . . hi there, Ruthie." There was noise in the background. "Let me turn down the music," he said, and then was gone from the phone for a while that was too long for just turning down music in their small apartment. "So, how's it going?" he asked her when he got back to the phone.
"Shel, it's so cute," she said, confiding in him. "My parents have really been wonderful this time. They even talked about my brothers tonight, and maybe it's because they haven't been bugging me at all, but I actually told them about Davis."
"About Davis?" he said, again too loud. "What about him?"
"About my seeing him, and how terrific he is, andhow he's so perfect for me. So right away my mother starts talking about somebody she knows whose daughter had a baby at forty. Is that hysterical?"
There was no sound.
"Shel?"
"I'm here."
"You okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. You coming in tomorrow?"
"At two-ten."
"You want me to pick you up?"
"Has Davis called? He said he was going to call you and make sure you were okay while I was gone, and find out when I was coming in. So I thought
he
would probably pick me up."
"I'll tell him,"
"But," her father jumped in, "I told them the difference will be that I don't have to pay for it," and then he added, "I was kidding them, because for a wedding, the father of the bride always pays."
A silence fell over the table then as the three of them ate the matzoh ball soup. All of them were thinking the same thought. That in this family there had been no bride.
Davis. Wouldn't her parents love him, Ruthie thought. Okay, he was divorced, or soon to be divorced, but
that
they could forgive. Once they talked to him and he laid on the charm, her mother would melt, and her father would say, "A good head on his shoulders."
"I have a boyfriend," she said quietly. Her mother dropped the spoon into her soup dish.
"Besides that Sheldon?" she asked.
That Sheldon. After all these years she still referred to Shelly as "that Sheldon."
"So who?" her father asked.
"He's a lawyer. An entertainment lawyer. Jewish."
With every word she could see her mother sit up straighter. Maybe this was a bad idea. Premature. Davis hadn't even kissed her yet.
"Divorced," she said.
"Well," her mother said quickly. "That happens."
For a while there was no sound but the slurping of soup, until her mother had a thought she couldn't hold inside.
"Listen," she said, "Molly Sugarman's daughter, Phyllis, didn't have her first baby until she was forty years old, and the baby is perfect."
"Ethel, please," said her father, "first let's meet the guy and then we'll talk babies."
"Why not plan ahead? You think it's so easy to get a party room at Webster Hall? Sometimes you need to call six months in advance."
"Ruthie," her father said, turning to her seriously, "you'll give us notice? And you won't elope?"
"I promise, Daddy."
That night, after her parents were asleep, she lay in her old bed, remembering the other day when Davis drove her to the airport, and hugged her close, saying he would miss her. She had smiled about that for the entire flight. Tomorrow she'd be back in L.A. and things with him would probably start to get serious. God, she could hardly wait.
Just before she turned over to go to sleep she realized it was only eight o'clock in Los Angeles. She probably should call home and see how old Shel was doing without her. She picked up the receiver of the pink phone her parents had given her when she was sixteen and called her own number in Los Angeles.
"H'lo."
"Hi, it's me."
"Ruthie!" Shelly said, in a very loud voice. "Uh . . . hi there, Ruthie." There was noise in the background. "Let me turn down the music," he said, and then was gone from the phone for a while that was too long for just turning down music in their small apartment. "So, how's it going?" he asked her when he got back to the phone.
"Shel, it's so cute," she said, confiding in him. "My parents have really been wonderful this time. They even talked about my brothers tonight, and maybe it's because they haven't been bugging me at all, but I actually told them about Davis."
"About Davis?" he said, again too loud. "What about him?"
"About my seeing him, and how terrific he is, andhow he's so perfect for me. So right away my mother starts talking about somebody she knows whose daughter had a baby at forty. Is that hysterical?"
There was no sound.
"Shel?"
"I'm here."
"You okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. You coming in tomorrow?"
"At two-ten."
"You want me to pick you up?"
"Has Davis called? He said he was going to call you and make sure you were okay while I was gone, and find out when I was coming in. So I thought
he
would probably pick me up."
"I'll tell him,"
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