movie or go bowling?”
Bronstein shook his head. “Knock it off, Al. You go on home and have your dinner and relax. I’ll be all right. Maybe I’ll be over later.”
He came around to the front of his desk and put his arm around the older man’s shoulders. “Go on home, beat it. I’ll lock up.” Gently he led Becker to the door. Then he picked up the telephone and dialed. He heard the phone ring at the other end, again and again and again. After a while he hung up.
It was late, after six, when the doctor finished his examination. Elspeth thanked the receptionist for the mimeographed diet and the booklet on pregnancy, and carefully folded and put them away in her purse. As she was about to leave, she asked if there was a public telephone in the building.
“There’s one downstairs in the lobby, but you can use ours if you like.”
Elspeth blushed shyly and shook her head. The receptionist thought she understood, and smiled.
In the phone booth she dialed a number, praying that he would be home. “It’s me, dear, Elspeth,” she said when she heard the voice at the other end. “I’ve got to see you tonight. It’s terribly important.”
She listened, and then said, “But you don’t understand. There’s something I’ve got to tell you … No, I can’t over the phone … I’m in Lynn now, but I’m coming back to Barnard’s Crossing. We could have dinner together. I thought I’d eat at the Surfside and then take in a movie at the Neptune.”
She nodded as he answered, just as if he could see her. “I know you can’t go to a movie with me tonight, but you have to eat so why can’t we have dinner together? I’ll be at the Surfside around seven… . Well, please try to make it… If you’re not there by half-past seven I’ll know that you couldn’t come, but you will try, won’t you?”
She stopped at a cafeteria before going on to the bus station. Sipping her coffee, she opened the booklet on pregnancy and read it through once and then again. When she was sure she understood the few simple rules, she tucked it behind the leather seat pad of the booth. It was too dangerous to keep; Mrs. Serafino might come across it.
Chapter Six
At half-past seven Jacob Wasserman rang the bell of the rabbi’s house. Mrs. Small answered the door. She was tiny and vivacious, with a mass of blonde hair that seemed to overbalance her. She had wide blue eyes and an open frank face that would have seemed ingenuous were they not offset by a firm, determined little chin.
“Come in, Mr. Wasserman, come in. It’s so nice to see you.”
Hearing the name, the rabbi, who had been engrossed in a book, came into the hall. “Why, Mr. Wasserman. We have just finished supper, but you’ll have some tea, won’t you? Make some tea, dear.”
He led his visitor into the living room, while his wife went to set the water on. The rabbi placed the book he was holding face-down on the table beside him and looked inquiringly at the older man.
Wasserman suddenly realized that the rabbi’s gaze, though mild and benign, was also penetrating. He essayed a smile. “You know, rabbi, when you first came to our congregation you suggested that you ought to sit in on the meetings of the board. I was all in favor of it. After all, if you engage a rabbi to help direct the development of a congregation, what’s better than to have him sitting in on the meetings where the various activities are planned and discussed? But they voted me down. And do you know what their reason was? They said the rabbi is an employee of the congregation. Suppose we want to talk about his salary or his contract? How can we, if he’s sitting right there with us? So what was the result? All year the matter wasn’t even mentioned until this last meeting. Then I suggested that we ought to decide about the contract for next year since there are only a couple of meetings left before we adjourn for the summer.”
Mrs. Small came in with a tray. After serving them,
Bronstein shook his head. “Knock it off, Al. You go on home and have your dinner and relax. I’ll be all right. Maybe I’ll be over later.”
He came around to the front of his desk and put his arm around the older man’s shoulders. “Go on home, beat it. I’ll lock up.” Gently he led Becker to the door. Then he picked up the telephone and dialed. He heard the phone ring at the other end, again and again and again. After a while he hung up.
It was late, after six, when the doctor finished his examination. Elspeth thanked the receptionist for the mimeographed diet and the booklet on pregnancy, and carefully folded and put them away in her purse. As she was about to leave, she asked if there was a public telephone in the building.
“There’s one downstairs in the lobby, but you can use ours if you like.”
Elspeth blushed shyly and shook her head. The receptionist thought she understood, and smiled.
In the phone booth she dialed a number, praying that he would be home. “It’s me, dear, Elspeth,” she said when she heard the voice at the other end. “I’ve got to see you tonight. It’s terribly important.”
She listened, and then said, “But you don’t understand. There’s something I’ve got to tell you … No, I can’t over the phone … I’m in Lynn now, but I’m coming back to Barnard’s Crossing. We could have dinner together. I thought I’d eat at the Surfside and then take in a movie at the Neptune.”
She nodded as he answered, just as if he could see her. “I know you can’t go to a movie with me tonight, but you have to eat so why can’t we have dinner together? I’ll be at the Surfside around seven… . Well, please try to make it… If you’re not there by half-past seven I’ll know that you couldn’t come, but you will try, won’t you?”
She stopped at a cafeteria before going on to the bus station. Sipping her coffee, she opened the booklet on pregnancy and read it through once and then again. When she was sure she understood the few simple rules, she tucked it behind the leather seat pad of the booth. It was too dangerous to keep; Mrs. Serafino might come across it.
Chapter Six
At half-past seven Jacob Wasserman rang the bell of the rabbi’s house. Mrs. Small answered the door. She was tiny and vivacious, with a mass of blonde hair that seemed to overbalance her. She had wide blue eyes and an open frank face that would have seemed ingenuous were they not offset by a firm, determined little chin.
“Come in, Mr. Wasserman, come in. It’s so nice to see you.”
Hearing the name, the rabbi, who had been engrossed in a book, came into the hall. “Why, Mr. Wasserman. We have just finished supper, but you’ll have some tea, won’t you? Make some tea, dear.”
He led his visitor into the living room, while his wife went to set the water on. The rabbi placed the book he was holding face-down on the table beside him and looked inquiringly at the older man.
Wasserman suddenly realized that the rabbi’s gaze, though mild and benign, was also penetrating. He essayed a smile. “You know, rabbi, when you first came to our congregation you suggested that you ought to sit in on the meetings of the board. I was all in favor of it. After all, if you engage a rabbi to help direct the development of a congregation, what’s better than to have him sitting in on the meetings where the various activities are planned and discussed? But they voted me down. And do you know what their reason was? They said the rabbi is an employee of the congregation. Suppose we want to talk about his salary or his contract? How can we, if he’s sitting right there with us? So what was the result? All year the matter wasn’t even mentioned until this last meeting. Then I suggested that we ought to decide about the contract for next year since there are only a couple of meetings left before we adjourn for the summer.”
Mrs. Small came in with a tray. After serving them,
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