quite a city and Winer had a notion that a de luxe butcher
shop would do well out there.
"Otto wants to sell choice meats there and stuff from all
over the world like Italian pepperoni and Westphalian
ham," Denny explained to his sister. "I le wants a cheese
department with fancy cheese from every nation in the
world. And caviar and even snails, I guess. Truffles, he
said, too. A lot of people in Hempstead are well off and
would go for stuff like that. At least, that's what Otto
thinks."
"What do you think about it, Denny?"
"Oh, he wants Tessie and me to move out there after he
sets it up. Ele wants me to manage it for him."
Maggie-Now's heart fell. Now he will go from me, she
thought, like ClafJde afZd the children. Ilt first they'll come
if, to see me once a week, then once a mofZth, once every
three months arid then it quill be of Zce a year at Christmas
or my birthday.
"Are you?" she asked.
"Oh, I'd like to fine,' said Denny. "Only Tessie doesn't
want
~ 39 1
to be so far away from her mother. So I told Winer I
wasn't interested."
Mixed with her relief that he wasn't going (although if
he had said he was, she would have encouraged him to
go) was indignation that Tessie would stand in his way. He
should tell her that's what he wants, she thought. She'd go
with him.
"Anyhow, it's still only .m idea in Otto's mind."
The wedding was set for the coming June. In the
beginning of March, Denny asked Claude would he be his
best man? Claude seemed very pleased and flattered and
said he'd be honored.
Denny told Maggie-Now that Claude had accepted the
role of best man. "That means he won't go away this
spring. And you'll have him around to take the place of
me pestering you all the time," he said affectionately.
"Don't count on it, Dennv. He'll go away again in March."
"Not after he promised."
"He'll go. Ile'll always go."
"Listen, Maggie-Now. People change, you know."
"Not at our age, Denny. (2laude's and mine. Things are
set with
us."
Claude went away in March.
Plans for the wedding went forward. Annie and
Maggie-Now sat together many an afternoon and sewed
for Tessie. Annie made her daughter an oval rag rug and
Maggie-Now admired it so much that Annie made one for
her, too. Denny and Tessie found a modest three-room
apartment that was halfway between Annie's home and
Maggie-Now's house.
The girls at Tessie's store gave her a shower and Winer
said that after Denny married he could take home from
the store all the meat he needed at wholesale prices. That
was his wedding gift. Tessie even got a present from her
boss, a brand-new fivedollar bill set in slots in a flowered
folder that said, Congrat?clations! This unexpected
kindness gave Tessie the courage to ask if she could keep
her job after marriage. He said, no, business was awfully
slow.
[3g! I
"Then who'll bring tile girls change after I'm gone?"
'Me."
"Will you dust the hardi-are counter, too?"
"No. The girls will rake thorns doing that. Whenever
they go to the washroom, they can stop a second on their
way back to dust."
"You never needed ale in the first place, then," she said.
"First off I did," he saicl. "But I don't now. They say this
depression is only temporary that business will pick up
again by Christmas. But I don't know. I should have laid
you off but I didn't because I thought you'd need the
money getting married and all. And besides, I kept you
on for Auld Lang Syne like they say New Year's live. You
see, Tessie, your mother worked for my father and you
worked for me, maybe a daughter of yours might work for
my SO'I, sollledaN'."
Tessie told Maggie-Now: "He said he didn't need me.
It's sad to think that you weren't needed even in a dime
store."
"I know," said Maggie-Nov. "Everybody likes to be
needed."
``And ,'70U know what else he said? He said that
maybe a daughrer of nnine 7Y'ill work for his son
someday. Imagine!" she said indignantly. "No daughter of
mine will ever work in a dime store! "
That's what hey mother sairl, thought Ilaggie-Now, Shell
7 essie was little. Ah, w ell . . . She sighed just like Annie.
"Here s a last-minute present for you and Denny. It's
from Lottie. You heard us speak of her?"
"Yes, and I'd love to meet her sometime," Tessie said
auton~atically.
The present, of course, was the china dog with the
nursing puppies. Tessie laughed hysterically. "That's the
funniest thing I ever saw," she said.
"I have to tell you, 1 essie, it's not for keeps. Lottie
forgets. In a little while, she'll forget she gave it to you
and Denny and she'll think it's lost and she;ll go around
the house looking for it and crying. I'll have to sneak it
back."
'Of course," said Tessie.
"llut she did think of you."
'That was nice," said Tessie. In an offhand way, she
added: 'Poor thing!"
1 3971
It was June, it NvaS a Saturday night, and it was the
night before the wedding. There was an excited hush in
the house, the same excited hush that fills a house at a
birth, a wedding and a death. Each member of the
household goes about with a private look on his face as
though recognising acknowledging the great verities of
birth, marriage and death.
Tessie and Denny had gone to confession, she to her
German church and Denny to Father Flynn. The marriage
would take place in Tessie's church. But after the
marriage Tessie would always go to her husband's church.
The boy came from the cleaner's with Denny's suit.
MaggieNow brought the suit hi to her brother. He was
sitting in his room on his cot. She remembered how she
had found him there the day she married Claude and he
had said he wanted to go with her and she had knit It
down before him....
"Your suit," she said.
"Thanks." She hung it in his closet. He said: "Sit with me
a minute before you put the kids to bed." She sat next to
him on the cot. He put his arms around her. "My mama,
my sister, my Maggie-Now."
She smiled. "Remember hose N' tl stole the little flags
from the cemetery? "
"A man gave them to me," he said in pretended
indignation.
"Happy?" she asked.
"Can't tell you how much," said Denny.
"Denny, it's your last night home. Go upstairs, and talk
to Papa for a while."
"He and I have nothing to talk about," said Denny shortly.
"Just the same, he's yol r
father and you can overlook
his waN7s one more time."
"All right." Denny went up to say good-by to his father.
Jamesie gave his sister away and Albie was Denny's best
man. Tessie had a girl from the dime store as her
bridesmaid. Cholly, who had continued being friends with
Denny since the time Denny had worked for him and
Sonny, chauffeured the wedding party around in his car.
Van Clees, who had known and loved Tessie and Denny
since they were born, treated t!le wedding party to a duck
dinner out
[ 3'7' ]
on the Island. That was his gift. Of course, Cholly drove
them out.
Van Clees couldn't stand Cholly. Cholly's jokes irritated
him. "Know what a duck dinner is?" asked Cholly. "You
duck in a place, have a cup of coffee and duck out again."
"Wisenheimer," muttered Van Clees. But he had to put
up with Cholly, because, after all, Cholly had the car.
There were ten in the party: Annie, Maggie-Now, Pat,
Van Clees, Jamesie, Albie, the newlyweds and Tessie's
attendant, and Cholly.
Van Clees hadn't counted on Cholly. He'd brought
along only enough money for nine dinners and a dollar tip
for the waiter. Van Clees wasn't stingy. He was merely
careful with his money. In order to pay for Cholly's
dinner, Van Clees ordered only a bowl of chowder for
himself and decided to cut the waiter's tip to seventy-five
cents.
Cholly, as always, dominated the festivities. "Hey,
Maggie!" he hollered down the long table. "Remember
me? You laughed at me when I sat down on the park
bench next to you. But when I started to play . . . Oh,
boy!"
Maggie-Now gave him her wide smile. Cholly was
getting stout and he was almost bald now, but to
Maggie-Now he was still the flashing young boy who
reminisced on the piano those many years ago.
Cholly wouldn't let anybody talk. "I remember when I
was first married to Gina," he said. "Her name is Regina
but ever,vbody calls her Gina. Well, sir, the morning after
our first night, she gets out of bed. 'Hey! Where you
says, 'Get right back in this bed where you belong,' I savs."
"Listen, you!" interrupted Pat. "You tell a off-color story
in front of the wimmin, and I'll puck you right in the
nose."
Cholly was so wound up in his anecdote that he paid no
attention to Pat. " 'Get back in bed,' I says. 'Why?' she
says. 'Because I never drink coffee,' I says. 'I only drink
Postum,' I says."
They laughed, partly in relief that it wasn't a dirty story,
with a fist fight as an aftermath, and partly out of
politeness because, after all, Cholly had supplied the
transportation.
At the end of the dinner, Van Clees presented Denny
with a box of fine, hand-rolled Havana cigars. He made a
courtly little speech.
~ 394 1
"I give you these that you should share them out to all
your friends what was not lucky enough to marry Tessie."
Of course, Pat had to have one then and there.
Motivated by some black thing in his soul, he took the
cigar apart and stuffed the expensive tobacco in his
five-cene clay pipe, and smoked it. Van Clees held back
his tears.
Denny and Tessie had a few hours of honeymoon a
night in a reserved room at the Pennsylvania Hotel over
in Manhattan with breakfast served in their room the
next morning. They had a night and morning of
undreamed luxury for ten dollars and tips.
Around midnight, Cholly called up the hotel and told
Dennis it was the manager spearing and that Mr. Dennis
Moore would have to get that strange woman out of his
room before the police got there.
T hey came together, they loved and they married. In
innocence. and never dreaming how c ourageous they
were, they started a new life together and a new
generation of their own.
It was late in the following November. Claude had been
home a week. He had brought with him a half-grown
Siamese cat that someone had abandoned. They sat in the
kitchen watching the cat lap up a saucer of evaporated
milk.
"Tessie's going to have a baby in May," she said.
"I know," said Claude "They asked me to be godfather,"
he said proudly.
"But that will be May.'
"Of course."
They asked him, she thought, so that he'd stay this spring.
Bitt he won't. She sighed.
"If it's a boy, they're going to name him . . ."
"Claude?" she interrupted.
"Good Lord, no! John Bassett Moore."
"That's a beautiful name!"
"My name! Bassett!" h said with deep satisfaction.
Maybe he wild stay, she thought hopefully.
Christmas was a little fad with Denny gone hut
llaggie-NoNv
[39il
and Claude trimmed a tree for the home children and he
gave her a cuckoo clock for Christmas. The children were
entranced by it as was the canary, Timn,y TNVO. (The
first Timmy had died some years ago.) When the cuckoo
came out to call the hour, the bird sang hysterically in
competition and the cat lashed his tail and the little boys
laughed.
It was Annie's first Christmas Eve alone. Jamesie and
Tessie were in their own homes and Albie was at his girl's
house. But Jamesie came over for a few minutes as he did
every Christmas. He gave his mother a ten-dollar bill and
ordered her to buy something foolish with it. Annie said
she'd buy a pair of Educator shoes. Jamesie asked her to
keep the gift under her hat because he didn't want his
wife, Shirley, to know. Not that she'd care, he said loyally,
but . . .
Annie saw him to the door. He put a warm Christmas
kiss on her cheek. They spol<e tile words of their yearly
ritual. "You are my Mom," he said.
"And you are my good son," she said.
:~ CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE ~
IT WAS early in March. "] saw Tessie in the store today,"
MaggieNow told Claude. "She expects the baby in May.
She told me to remind you that you promised to be
godfather."
"She did>" he said absently.
"You remember. Denny asked you way back in
November right after you came home. They're going to
name it John F',assett. "
"It will be a girl, of co lrse."
Her heart sank at his indifference. She had hoped
against hope that he wouldn't go away that spring or
seemed so pleased in the winter about the child's name.
NONV her hopes were gone.
When that day came in March, he left.
~ 39` 1
The baby was a
girl. ~ o Maggie-Now's relief, Tessie
had an easy time of it. Maggie-Now had worried. Tessie
always looked so frail. But Tessie came out fine. While
she was at the hospital, Denny stayed with Maggie-Now.
He slept on the lounge in the front room. Maggie-Now
was happy. It seemed like old times having Denny home
again.
When it was time for Tessie to leave the hospital,
MaggieNow suggested that Denny and Tessie and the
baby stay with her a week or two until Tessie got on her
feet. Tessie accepted the invitation gratefully and they all
moved in.
Denny and Tessie had Maggie-Now's bedroom with the
baby in a pillowed wash basket on the dressing table.
Maggie-Now slept on the lounge in the front room. It was
a very happy two weeks for Maggie-Now. The house Divas
full and it was wonderful to her to cook large meals. The
only thing was that Maggie-No wanted to hold the baby
all the time and Tessie, a modern mother who put her
baby on a strict schedule, didn't let Maggie-Now hold and
cuddle the baby.
Annie came over and they tried to decide whom the
baby looked like. Tessie thought she looked like
Maggie-Now and Denny thought she looked like Tessie,
and Annie thought she looked like Gus.
Annie fretted because the baby was ten days old and
hadn't been christened. Tessie had decided to call her
Mary Lorraine. Mary, after Denny's mother, and Lorraine,
a name that Tessie would have liked for herself. The
christening was delayed because Tessie wanted a godmoth,
r for her child named Mary. There was no one in the
family named Mary and none of the women had a friend
named Mary. It was Maggie-Now who suggested they ask
Father Flyrm to find a Mary.
"Good day, Father," said Maggie-Now. "We came
because Tessie wants to ask you something."
"Come in the house, do," he said, "and sit down."
Tessie had never seen Father Flynn outside of the
church. She was surprised at how old he looked.
"Yes, Theresa?" said the priest.
"It's this way, Father. I want to christen my baby iNlary.
I need a godmother named Mary but I don't knolls
anyone named Mary."
[ 397 ]
"So we thought, Father," said Maggie-Now, "that you
might know someone in the parish . . ."
"Ah, there are many Marys," he said. He riffled through
his memory. "Mary O'Brien . . . No, they moved out on
the Island. The Bacianos have one. No. That's a Mario;
a male. Yes! Ah!" He put his pipe aside, leaned back in
his chair and smiled. "I have your baby's godmother,
Theresa." He waited, enjoying the suspense. "Mrs.
O'Crawlcy."
"Who, Father?" asked Tessie.
"Margaret knows Mrs. O'Cravvley, don't you, Margaret?"
"Her name is Mary?" asked Maggie-Novv, surprised.
"I have told you so, Margaret."
"I mean," said Maggie-Now, "it just seems funny that I
never knew her first name was the same as my mother's."
"I'm glad it's somebody you know, Maggie-Now," said
Tessie. "Do you think she'll be godmother, Father?"
"How would it be, now, if I asked her?" said the priest.
"Oh, Father! " breathe d the two w omen simultaneously
in gratitude.
"Settled! Baptism this Sunday coming at four. You have
a godfather, Theresa?"
"My brother Albie."
"Good! "
They prepared to league. " l hank you, Father, for
giving us your time," began Maggie-Now.
"A moment," said the priest. Ile raised his voice. "Father?"
A very young priest with a thin, serious face, and
wearing eyeglasses, came into the room Maggie-Now and
Tessie stood up and remained standing. They had heard
that a new priest had come to the parish to help Father
Flynn.
"This is Father Francis Xavier Clunny."
How young he is, thought Tessie. No older than Dennis
and all that education behind him!
"Father, this is Margaret .Tfu`'re. I should SaN'
Rassett," he corrected himself. "I christened her."
Father Francis stared at the tall, buxom,