always brought a black pen and a part of the newspaper with her, but never took them out of her purse for very long. She was too busy peering over at me. Whenever I waved at her, she would wave back, her big pearl white teeth flashing in the sunlight. I could safely venture anywhere.
Rose, on the other hand, hovered over me like a hawk. “Lily, look out!” she would command every ten minutes, clutching her purse and scanning the sand. She chatted with the other women, but never actually looked over at them. That would detract her from her real purpose, to safeguard her daughter, and so I learned early on that when Mom took me to the park, I would not have a good time.
Sadie was another story. Forget the other ladies, she was on that jungle gym with me, laughing, cavorting, and pretending to be an explorer covering the North Pole. The other adults tried to engage her in talk, but she would have none of that. She preferred to be with me, and that fact kept me going for days.
I particularly remember a time when the four of us were watching The Wizard of Oz on TV, a special presentation sponsored by NBC. It was bound to be a fun evening. As usual, Dad was nowhere in sight, but Bimmy had prepared her southern fried chicken along with string beans, Sadie had brought over potato latkas, while Mom provided martinis for the grownups and chocolate milk for me.
I had never seen Rose so talkative. Sadie often brought out the best in her, and even Bimmy was smiling and chuckling as the other two sipped their cocktails. The movie started and we all applauded in anticipation. I loved every minute, but the euphoria didn't last. As the movie progressed, we came to the part where the wicked witch signaled her monkeys, like Trojans, to fly after Dorothy and I suddenly panicked.
Terror gripped me from deep inside my chest. I shrieked and ran behind the couch, clutching my teddy Cassandra, convinced the entire world was heading for disaster.
Rose held up her martini glass and laughed. “Oh, Lily, don't be such a scaredy-cat! It's just a movie…”
Bimmy took a sudden interest in her hands, fanned out across her TV table placemat, but it was Sadie who came to my rescue. She scooped me up and cradled me onto her lap, rocking and cooing, “I know, it's scary. I would be scared, too. But you're okay, you're okay.”
The fun was over, the rest of the movie watched in silence, and an invaluable lesson learned. My mother's concern stretched only so far.
Meanwhile, Rose and Sadie's child rearing clashes were becoming more evident. Case in point: the day all three of us went into New York City for a delicious lunch at Lord & Taylor's restaurant, The Birdcage. All morning, I had been busy getting my clothes together in high anticipation of the lunch and maybe Singin’ In the Rain afterward. I was high on girlish adrenaline.
As soon as we entered The Birdcage, we were steered over to a table by a pretty young woman and the ladies soon chatted away, flying high in the big city atmosphere. That was their biggest mistake. By ignoring me completely, in time I got bored and searched for some form of distraction. I found it in a small basket of sealed-tight creamers in the center of the table, just waiting for young exploring hands.
Rose's steely eyes caught me head on. “Don't try to open those up, Lily.”
I didn't even slow down.
“Lily…”
Sadie jumped in. “Rose, let the girl be…”
Another dispute was about to begin, but I didn't care. This was going to be fun. Pull, pull, pull—oh my God!
The beautiful wallpaper next to our table now had a light film of cream descending in large droplets down to the floor, and without looking, my sixth sense told me Rose was already standing up, pocketing all her decorum.
While a red-faced Sadie spasmed with laughter, I was padlocked to my chair, my body pinpricked with fear. God help me filtered through my brain fog, just in time to feel the twisting pinch on my arm of a mad woman out of
Rose, on the other hand, hovered over me like a hawk. “Lily, look out!” she would command every ten minutes, clutching her purse and scanning the sand. She chatted with the other women, but never actually looked over at them. That would detract her from her real purpose, to safeguard her daughter, and so I learned early on that when Mom took me to the park, I would not have a good time.
Sadie was another story. Forget the other ladies, she was on that jungle gym with me, laughing, cavorting, and pretending to be an explorer covering the North Pole. The other adults tried to engage her in talk, but she would have none of that. She preferred to be with me, and that fact kept me going for days.
I particularly remember a time when the four of us were watching The Wizard of Oz on TV, a special presentation sponsored by NBC. It was bound to be a fun evening. As usual, Dad was nowhere in sight, but Bimmy had prepared her southern fried chicken along with string beans, Sadie had brought over potato latkas, while Mom provided martinis for the grownups and chocolate milk for me.
I had never seen Rose so talkative. Sadie often brought out the best in her, and even Bimmy was smiling and chuckling as the other two sipped their cocktails. The movie started and we all applauded in anticipation. I loved every minute, but the euphoria didn't last. As the movie progressed, we came to the part where the wicked witch signaled her monkeys, like Trojans, to fly after Dorothy and I suddenly panicked.
Terror gripped me from deep inside my chest. I shrieked and ran behind the couch, clutching my teddy Cassandra, convinced the entire world was heading for disaster.
Rose held up her martini glass and laughed. “Oh, Lily, don't be such a scaredy-cat! It's just a movie…”
Bimmy took a sudden interest in her hands, fanned out across her TV table placemat, but it was Sadie who came to my rescue. She scooped me up and cradled me onto her lap, rocking and cooing, “I know, it's scary. I would be scared, too. But you're okay, you're okay.”
The fun was over, the rest of the movie watched in silence, and an invaluable lesson learned. My mother's concern stretched only so far.
Meanwhile, Rose and Sadie's child rearing clashes were becoming more evident. Case in point: the day all three of us went into New York City for a delicious lunch at Lord & Taylor's restaurant, The Birdcage. All morning, I had been busy getting my clothes together in high anticipation of the lunch and maybe Singin’ In the Rain afterward. I was high on girlish adrenaline.
As soon as we entered The Birdcage, we were steered over to a table by a pretty young woman and the ladies soon chatted away, flying high in the big city atmosphere. That was their biggest mistake. By ignoring me completely, in time I got bored and searched for some form of distraction. I found it in a small basket of sealed-tight creamers in the center of the table, just waiting for young exploring hands.
Rose's steely eyes caught me head on. “Don't try to open those up, Lily.”
I didn't even slow down.
“Lily…”
Sadie jumped in. “Rose, let the girl be…”
Another dispute was about to begin, but I didn't care. This was going to be fun. Pull, pull, pull—oh my God!
The beautiful wallpaper next to our table now had a light film of cream descending in large droplets down to the floor, and without looking, my sixth sense told me Rose was already standing up, pocketing all her decorum.
While a red-faced Sadie spasmed with laughter, I was padlocked to my chair, my body pinpricked with fear. God help me filtered through my brain fog, just in time to feel the twisting pinch on my arm of a mad woman out of
Similar Books
