“You sure didn’t,” he said. “And so you know? The only reason I haven’t told Mom and Dad is because I don’t want them to take it out on you. I’m not afraid to tell them. I’ll tell them tonight if you’d rather.”
“Oh,” I said drily, “I think your mother has enough to occupy her tonight. And Joe—we must continue with the methods. With the diaphragm and special jelly for me, and the other for you. Your education is too important, and the risk is too great. I know it’s not as … as pleasant for you—you wonder how I know this, but womendotalk—but?—”
“You’re right,” he said. “Oh, not right that it isn’t pleasant. I have no complaints, and of course we can’t manage a baby right now, even a perfectly healthy one. We’re reading from the same hymnbook on that one. And on eating leavened bread at home this week, too, I’m afraid. I’m Jewish; of course I am. If I hadn’t known it, the war sure showed me, just like it did Dr. Becker. But since then … I don’t know. I can’t seem to care as much about some of the rules. It’s more about the ethics for me now, I guess. I’m just not as devout as my folks.” How he tossed that off, as if it were no strain at all to change one’s beliefs!
“But I too have struggled in this way!” I said, barely able to believe that we could share this, too. “I still avoid meat on Fridays, and of course I attend Mass, but I find myself questioning more now as well. I’m glad you’ve said this, for I’ve felt very guilty about it. But then, we’ve also married each other, haven’t we? I believe we must be rationalists at heart, like Aristotle and Descartes. Not secularists, because I find I must have a … a foundation, and my religion is part of that, and part of me. It’s also a very great comfort to pray to Mary, who always seems so compassionate, for courage and strength to go on when life is most difficult. And yet—can I say this?”
“You can say it to me,” Joe said. “I just said it to you, after all.”
“I’m not sure,” I said, after taking a strengthening breath, “that I truly believe anymore that the wafer and wine are actually the body and blood of Christ. And yet I believe in his teachings, most definitely, and his love. It’s of these I now think when I receive the Eucharist.”
“Well, this is new,” Joe said. “Really?”
“Miracles, you know …” I began, then had to think. “Miracles, I find difficult to believe in. Confession is good, and penance, too, for one must face one’s failings honestly, but do I believe God forgives because I’ve said the prayers, or because the priest says so? Again, no. I believe He forgives because I’ve repented and am trying to make amends and do better. We’re a bit like Spinoza, perhaps, you and I. But not so godless as Spinoza.”
“If Mom could hearthisconversation,” Joe said, “there’d be some rending of garments. Two almost-godless Rationalists.” I laughed, and after a minute, he did too, but added, “And don’t think I didn’t notice Mom going on about maternity clothes and a shower and a new house for Barbara. I know that must hurt. I wish I knew what to do about it. If you have a thought, speak up.”
I waved a hand. “This I can’t care about, for if I do, you’re right, itwillonly hurt. There’s no way to make your mother happy you’ve married me, so how can I dwell on it? And I think you much prefer your independence.”
“You bet I do. If the folks gave me money, they’d have suggestions.”
“Yes,” I said. “We’d feel differently on these matters, perhaps, if the world had—had stayed the same. If I were stillin the palace with my parents. If you hadn’t gone to war and taken on so much responsibility. If we both hadn’t seen too much evil.”
“Yes,” Joe said. “You can’t shake things up like that and expect everything to settle back into the same place.”
“And in the spirit of rationalism,” I said, “I think—I really do think—that I must sell the necklace.”
24
THE PRINCESS EMERGES
We ended up in the same park as before, but looking out at the lights this time, and the dark expanse that was the water. The bridges were lit up, the lights shining along their cables like beads on a string. It was all very serene, and very beautiful; completely untouched by war and destruction.
“You see,” I told Joe, “how it is when one has all this beauty before one. I’ve carried the necklace with me for more than three years. I haven’t worn it once in all this time—it would be ridiculous to do so—and now, it’s in the bank. Yet I can still see beauty around me every day, so what have I lost if I no longer have it? Nothing.”
“Why would you want to get rid of it?” Joe asked. “It’s your birthright, and we’re doing fine.” He stopped, then. “Wait. If you sold it, we could both go to college. Is that it? Because if it is, I meant what I said. I’ll be finished with this degree in three years max, and as soon as I am, we’ll send you.”
“But I’m quite happy auditing my two classes,” I said, “and reading your textbooks. I meant whatIsaid, too. I don’t need this, this schooling for a degree. I feel that my … my destiny lies in another direction. Perhaps because nobody in my family has ever answered to an employer? Can one have this in one’s heredity, do you think, like blue eyes and fair hair? I’ll have to ask Professor Jacobson, because I don’t seem able to get used to these things. Not being able to speak my mind, when there is no Gestapo to arrest me for my candor, and having to hide what I think altogether.”
“You don’t say,” Joe said, which I knew was a joke, although he wasn’t smiling.
“But I would wish you not to have to work so hard, “ I said, “and I can’t find enough work to keep you from having to do it. For you to have to take so many classes, and talk of washing dishes and carrying boxes all summer while I, whocouldwork much harder, do not? No. This I cannot accept.”
“The necklace is your last piece of your family’s legacy, though.”
“Yes,” I said, “that and the earrings, and if you remember, my parents told me to sell it if I needed to, for they knew life would be difficult after the war. I’m thinking, you know … there is a great deal of building now, with all the GIs coming home, as David said, and wanting a house very much. Wouldn’t it be wise to sell the necklace and buy land?”
Joe stared at me. “Where didthisplan come from?”
“My family were landowners. This is how we’ve always made our living, just as your family has learned a great deal about law and psychology and medicine and so forth and prospered in this way.”
“Your family werekings.That’s hardly a model for the family business.”
“But of course it is. Now you’re being very stupid, I’m afraid. Consider the British aristocracy; their wealth has always been in the land. In Jane Austen’s books, you know, it is demeaning—this is the word, I think—to have one’s fortune come from trade rather than from the land. But life now is different, and very difficult for these aristocrats, with deathduties and taxes and so forth, and they don’t know what to do. This we see inBrideshead Revisited,how they must sell their great houses that they can no longer keep up, and some of their lands, too, but this is because they haven’t adapted to modern life. They have been too sentimental. This is a lesson for me. I must be clear-eyed and most practical, for the old days are gone and won’t come back. I’m no longer a princess, but Idohave the necklace, and the necklace and I are here in the New World, where people make their own fortunes by daring greatly and then working very hard. This is the American Dream, is it not?”
“Well, yes,” Joe said, “but?—”
“I wish to do this thing,” I said, “but I won’t do it without you. You’ve always treated me as a partner, and I’d like you to think of me now in the same way, not just as your wife, and listen.Trulylisten, and if you have objections, make them, andIwill listen. For we must be partners in this, too. It is most important.”
