The Boston Girl

That night, I decided to break it off. I felt guilty—like I was abandoning a puppy I had adopted. And there was even something unpatriotic about walking away from a veteran of the war. But Ernie had been getting moodier and quieter, and then there was the physical element, or the complete lack of it.

The next morning, Ernie called me at work and said how much he enjoyed our time at the museum, as if nothing had happened. He asked if I’d go to the movies with him on Sunday, but I said I couldn’t because I was going to Revere Beach with Betty and the family. He told me he didn’t like going to the shore so I thought I was off the hook.

But later that day I got a bunch of daisies and the note said, “Maybe you could teach me how to like the beach.” It was so sweet, I thought, Okay, one more chance. But by the weekend I was praying it would rain so I wouldn’t have to see him again.

No such luck. Sunday was sunny and hot and Ernie met me with a daisy in his hand. “You look pretty,” he said, and I could see how hard he was trying. “Your hair is pretty, too.”

There wasn’t room in Levine’s car for us to ride with them, but I wanted to take the trolley anyway. With everyone going to the beach, it was like a party. There were hampers in the aisles and children running around and strangers debating where to get the best ice cream. I thought it was fun, but Ernie pulled his hat low on his forehead to shut it all out.

I told him it would be better once we got off, but it wasn’t. The boardwalk was mobbed like downtown at Christmas, only with the roller coaster roaring overhead. The beach was even worse. It was like an obstacle course of blankets and people. It was hard for him to walk on sand and the cane didn’t help at all.

When we found Betty and Levine, Eddy shrieked and held out his arms for me to pick him up. Jake was jumping up and down. “Aunt Addie, tell Pop to let me go to the arcade. I’ll win a toy for Eddy. Tell him I’m big enough to go by myself.”

Betty said, “Take him to the arcade, Herman. I have company now so you don’t have to worry about me.” She was very pregnant and trying to cool off with a big straw fan. “The baby makes me even hotter than usual. At least I don’t have swollen ankles like when I was pregnant before. Herman thinks it means I’m having a girl, which is what he wants.” She patted her belly. “This one is moving around just as much as my other boys. But no matter what comes out, this is the last one.”

I could see that Ernie was mortified by the way she was talking about her body; he didn’t know where to look and was sweating through his jacket. I asked Betty if she’d be okay for a few minutes if we walked to the water to find a breeze.

It wasn’t any cooler there and we ended up near a bunch of boys who were setting off firecrackers left over from the Fourth of July. The popping made Ernie nervous so we started back and that’s when the first rocket exploded over our heads. Ernie jumped and tried to walk faster.

The next blast was so strong, I could feel it in my chest, and babies started crying. Ernie threw himself down on the sand face-first, his hands around the back of his head. I crouched over him and said it was just kids making noise, but then a whole string of loud e

xplosions went off, echoing up and down the beach.

Ernie pulled himself up and ran, dragging his bad leg behind him. He was running blind, with his head down and his hands over his ears, so he had no idea that he’d knocked a little boy to the ground or that the boy’s father was chasing him. He was a short man with muscular legs and it took him no time to catch up to poor lame Ernie in his shoes full of sand. He tackled Ernie, who curled up in a ball and started making those terrible choking noises men make when they cry.

The man stood over him for a moment, but then he kneeled down and started patting Ernie on the back, saying things like “It’s all right now, soldier. I know. I was there, too, but it’s all right now. You’re home.”

When he noticed me holding Ernie’s hat and cane, he said, “Are you the wife?”

“Friend of the family,” I said, ashamed of how fast I’d answered so no one would think I was married to this poor lunatic. “What should I do?”

“Let’s get him out of here,” he said and hoisted Ernie up by the armpits and dragged him toward the boardwalk. A man with an empty sleeve met us and said, “There’s a police car down by the carousel.”

I said I’d go and ran down the street as fast as I could. When the cops heard that Ernie was a veteran, they turned on the siren. They were very kind to him as they got him into backseat—they must have been in the war, too.

I never saw Ernie again. His parents sent him to a sanitarium in Colorado. I heard that they sold everything and moved out there to be with him.

Betty said, “I hope you aren’t taking this too hard. I never thought he was right for you.”

“I should have ended it a long time ago,” I said. “I was going out with him for something to do. God, that sounds so awful.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. He wasn’t in love with you, either.”

That didn’t make me feel any better, and it was a long time before I even thought about going out again. First Harold, then Ernie? It was pretty clear I didn’t have any talent at picking men.

| 1922–24 |

If I wasn’t so busy, I would have felt sorry for myself.

Levine went into business with Morris Silverman, who was a much bigger fish in Boston real estate and also a very nice guy. Everybody liked Mo Silverman. The only problem was that he already had three girls in his office and there wasn’t enough work for four secretaries. Betty wanted him to fire one of his girls. “I’m sure you’re a better typist.”

But to me, it wasn’t a problem at all. I had wanted to change jobs for a long time. I hadn’t done anything about it because no one was going to pay me as much as Levine and also it would have made a big stink at home.

So this was a good thing. Gussie was always saying she could get me a job with a judge or one of her businesswomen. And Miss Chevalier was working for the Boston Public Library, so I could ask her to recommend me for a job there. When Silverman said he wanted to talk to me about “the situation,” I was ready to tell him there were no hard feelings.

But instead of letting me go, he asked if I could just wait a few months. One of his girls was getting married and leaving in September but he didn’t want to let her go sooner because she was paying for the wedding herself. “She’s an orphan,” he said, and he offered to pay me a little something on the side. It would be our little secret and I would start again in the fall. That was a mensch, even if he did ruin my escape plan.

Betty thought it was perfect timing. She said I could spend the summer at home with her and the boys. “It will be good practice for when you have your own children.” She needed the help with the twins, who were two years old at the time—I guess they would have been your second cousins—Richie and Carl. Eddy was still a little kid, too. Jake was ten by then. I think he was Betty’s favorite and I don’t think anybody in the neighborhood ever knew that he wasn’t her natural son.