is it?” asked another voice.
Rina felt her stomach turn over. Her sisters-in-law had come up. And their husbands. And some of the children. The room was so hot and stuffy it would make anyone a nervous wreck. With as much authority as Rina could muster she informed the group that Frieda needed quiet and not everyone fretting over her. It was just sudden exhaustion and would everyone please leave so the woman could breathe.
“I’ll stay with her,” Miriam said.
“I will,” Faygie insisted.
“All of you out!” Rina ordered. “You’re all much too excited to be of any use right now!”
Rina was surprised at how commanding her voice sounded. Shimon said that Rina was right and directed everyone out of the room.
“But she needs family,” Miriam protested. “No offense to you, Rina, but she needs family.”
“Why have you taken over?” Ezra asked Rina.
“Because I’m a bit calmer than all of you—”
“I’m calm,” Miriam insisted. “I’m very, very calm!”
Rina said, “Miriam, you want to help out, go check on your grandparents. They must be worried sick.”
Faygie said, “I’ll do it.”
Rina said, “Both of you do it. I’ll call if she needs anything.”
“Maybe Papa’s right,” Ezra said. “Maybe I should get Doctor Malinkov.”
Rina said, “Give her a few minutes—”
“What do you know about nursing?” Ezra interrupted.
Frieda muttered something, eyes still flowing tears.
“What, Mama?” Miriam said.
The woman turned to her daughter, held Rina with one hand, and waved at the door with the other.
“Nu?” Rina said. “She wants you out.”
“Are you okay, Mama?” Ezra said.
“Give her some room, please,” Rina said.
Frieda nodded.
“Would you like me to stay with you?” Faygie asked.
Again, Frieda waved at the door.
Faygie said, “Don’t be stubborn, Mama. I can stay with you.”
“Go,” Frieda whispered. “Go all of you. Rina will stay with me.”
Faygie sighed, accepting her mother’s words with reluctance.
Shimon placed his arm around Ezra, said to his sisters and brother, “Come.” To Rina, he said, “Call us if she needs anything.”
After everyone had left, Frieda turned her head on the pillow, away from Rina, but held her hand tightly. The woman seemed to be muttering to herself, but Rina could make out prayers through the sobs. She stroked Frieda’s hand, tried to think of something to say, but she was as dumbstruck as she’d been with Peter.
Peter!
Dear God, what was he going through!
Rina’s stomach was churning at full force. She took a deep breath, looked around the emptied room. She’d been inside this house hundreds of times but had never invaded the private sanctuary of her in-laws’ bedroom. Twin beds, between them a large night table. Separate beds were required by Orthodox law, but she and Yitzchak had pushed their beds together, each of them sticking their feet in the crack at bedtime, playing with each other’s toes. No such intimacy could be shared here. But despite the beds, there was something warm and loving in the room. Maybe it was the acres of family pictures that covered the bureau and the top of the chest of drawers. Pictures of her sisters-in-law, her nieces and nephews, her sons. Photos of her and Yitzchak before they’d been married, their wedding pictures, snapshots taken when her in-laws had visited them in Israel. Photographs that had showed Yitzchak as a robust young man. Not the skeleton that had died in her arms …
Frieda cried out to her and Rina was grateful for the distraction. Rina kissed her hand and smiled at the older woman. Frieda attempted a weak smile in return but failed.
“It’s all right,” Rina said.
Frieda shook her head no.
“Yes, it is,” Rina said. “Emes, it’s all right.”
Frieda sobbed harder. Rina’s voice had said it all. She looked at her and said, “You know.”
Rina felt her eyes moisten. “I know.”
“He knows, too,” Frieda said.
Rina nodded.
“His eyes …” Frieda said. “He hates me.”
“No, he doesn’t—”
“I never stopped thinking about him,” Frieda moaned. “Never. In my heart, I never stopped looking. Every time I saw someone his age, I wondered … I wondered …”
“I understand—”
“No,” Frieda cried out. “No, you couldn’t understand. Oh, such guilt, the pain … God is punishing me for my weakness. Rina, I was so young, so scared. My father was so frightening. I was weak—”
Rina hushed her.
Frieda was silent for a minute. When she finally spoke again, it was in a whisper. “Every time I gave birth to my babies, I thought of him. Of the baby I had and lost—No, of the baby I was forced to give up. I could never, ever not think of him. I wanted to keep him but my parents wouldn’t let me. Dear God, forgive me …”
She started sobbing again.
Rina said, “Peter … Akiva has a daughter. He understands how you must have felt—”
“He hates me,” Frieda said. “I saw it. I deserve it—”
Rina quieted her again.
“Your Akiva …” Frieda sobbed out. “My little baby boy. Oh, my God, after all these years … As much pain as if it happened yesterday. He wasn’t sick at all, was he, Rina? He didn’t want to see me.”
“He didn’t want to shock you.”
“When you came to New York with him … he knew I’d be here?”
“Of course not.”
“Then how did he know, Rinalah?” Frieda exclaimed. “How did he know?”
“I guess he found out your name a long time ago. But he knew you under your maiden name because that was on the birth certificate. I honestly don’t know how he recognized you. Maybe he had
