Blessings by Belva Plain Read Free Book Online Page B

to visit some people in Owings Mills next weekend,” Peter said one day. “That’s near you, isn’t it?”
    “Not far. We never go there.”
    “They’re old friends of my parents. Mr. Frank went to the U of P with my dad, and he’s been sick, had some sort of awful operation on his neck. They’ve invited me, and Dad wants me to go.”
    “Well, as long as you’re not going to be here, I’ll go home this weekend. Mom’s been at me to come. Do you want to have dinner at my house before you go out to your friends?”
    “Sure. I’ll take the train to Baltimore.”
    “You’ll have to take a taxi to my house. On Saturday my father doesn’t drive.”
    “That’s okay.”
    She wanted to make sure that everything would be really nice. Sometimes, when Mom had been working in the store all day, things were a little hurried and careless. Today, however, because it was Saturday, Mom was setting the table in the dining room.
    “Oh, darling, I’ve one little job for you. Take the silver from the drawer and give it a good wash, will you, while I finish the stuffed cabbage? I hope he likes it.”
    “He’s not a fussy eater. You needn’t go to so much trouble.”
    “You must be serious about him, Janine. You never invited a boy to have supper here before.”
    She wished her mother would stop saying “boy.” Peter was a man. But she answered quietly, “Please don’t jump to conclusions, Mom. You’ll embarrass me.”
    Perhaps it had been a mistake to invite him. Yet it would have been more embarrassing not to invite him, when he was going to be right in the area.
    “Don’t worry, I understand. Play it cool, isn’t that what you young people call it? Go, give the silver a wash, will you?” Her mother picked up and weighed a fork. “It’s good silver plate, the best. Wears as long as sterling. Put a towel in the sink so you won’t scratch it.”
    From the window over the sink one looked directly into the Danielis’ kitchen, across the concrete strip that divided the yards. In the summer when it was too hot to eat indoors, everybody moved card tables to the back porches. You could smell the pungent gravy that was always simmering on the back of the Danielis’ stove.
    “Yes, they all chipped in where I worked and gave me that set when I got married. So generous. I remember I cried …”
    Pop, curious about the preparations, came into the kitchen. “Why does he call you Jennie?”
    “At school everybody does.”
    Mom, who was energetically chopping onions, joined in. “Why do you let them change it? Your name is Janine, such a beautiful name.”
    “It doesn’t go with Rakowsky.”
    “Sam, do you hear? So it’s Rakowsky she doesn’t like. A good thing your grandfather—may he rest in peace— can’t hear. He was proud of the name. He was a hero. That time there was a fire, you remember—”
    “Mom, I know about Grandpa.” Jennie spoke with affection. “How many times have I heard it?”
    “Well, so you’ll change the name,” Mom said cheerfully. “You’ll pick out a man with a beautiful name.”
    Jennie moved toward the dining room, where the best plates lay on the best cloth and the plastic covers had been removed from the chair seats. Her father’s voice followed her.
    “Mendes. What kind of a name is that? Mendel, I know, it’s common, but Mendes—”
    “It’s Spanish or Portuguese.”
    “Spanish! Well, Jews are everywhere. Even in China, I read someplace. Yes, even in China.”
    Everything went well, so Jennie needn’t have worried. Peter brought a bunch of daffodils and she arranged them in a low bowl on the table. It was surprising what a few flowers could do for a room. Mom’s dinner was delicious. She was her usual talkative self but made no remark more personal than when, bringing the ketchup bottle to the table, she patted her husband’s head and declared that Sam would soon be putting ketchup on ice cream too.
    Pop did more talking than he usually did. Peter and he were both