Hilda and Pearl by Alice Mattison Page B

afford me, it’s as simple as that,” said Nathan. “I’ve seen it coming.”
    Mrs. Levenson shook her head and rocked back and forth in her chair.
    â€œI thought you weren’t going to say anything,” said Hilda.
    â€œIt’s on my mind,” Nathan said. When they went into the kitchen for dinner, he seemed to relax a little. “Things aren’t what they were a few years ago,” he said. “There are possibilities now. I might even be able to teach, who knows?”
    Pearl thought the chicken was a little dry, but she had taken white meat. Maybe the dark meat was all right. Mike finished the food on his plate and reached for more without offering the platter to anyone else. Pearl glared at him. “Mrs. Levenson,” she said, “would you like more? Hilda?”
    â€œI have plenty,” said Hilda. Mrs. Levenson didn’t seem to hear her. Now Pearl nodded to Mike to go ahead, but he was already forking chicken onto his plate. Pearl was glad he liked it, but he seemed to like everything she cooked. He didn’t mind if it was burned or underdone.
    When the bakery cake was served, Mike’s mother spoke for the first time in a while. “Expensive,” she said.
    â€œIt didn’t cost much,” Pearl said, though it did, but she didn’t know how to cook desserts.
    â€œMike shouldn’t lose his job, too,” his mother said. “Mike, your job is all right?”
    â€œIt’s fine, Mom,” he said.
    â€œI said to Nathan, you shouldn’t get married,” Mrs. Levenson said now, and she was speaking to Pearl, of all people.
    â€œMom, that’s enough,” Nathan said, but the old woman kept talking.
    â€œMaybe one day she can’t work. You know what I mean. I say what I think. When Mike goes to get married, he doesn’t tell his mother.”
    Pearl was coming across the room with two cups of coffee. “I’m sorry,” she said, wondering if she was going to drop the cups and saucers. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you.”
    â€œHe wouldn’t listen to me,” Mrs. Levenson said. “Nathan didn’t listen.”
    Pearl looked around the table. Both men looked stricken, but Hilda looked angry. “Mom,” she said, “stop it. Nathan’ll get another job. It’s not the end of the world.”
    â€œWho said the end of the world?” said Mrs. Levenson.
    â€œYou know what I mean. Look,” said Hilda, and now her voice was gentle, “you didn’t pick me and you didn’t pick Pearl. Nathan and Mike picked us, and I’m sorry if you think they should have picked different girls. But honestly, there’s nothing wrong with us. We won’t bring disgrace on your family. We won’t make your boys unhappy. We’re nice.” Now her voice was pleading, even a little teary. Pearl was afraid to look at her. She felt happier than she had since her wedding day. She sat down at the table and began eating her cake.
    But Hilda bent her head and began to cry. Pearl had never seen Hilda cry before. Nobody said anything and after a while Hilda stopped crying and drank her coffee and even ate some of the cake. Everyone acted as if it hadn’t happened, but Pearl thought Mrs. Levenson was a little friendlier after that.
    Mike took his mother home on the trolley a short while later, and Hilda and Pearl washed the dishes. Nathan went into the other room, and then they heard the sound of an orchestra playing on the radio.
    Pearl filled the dishpan and began putting cups and saucers into it, and Hilda scraped plates into the garbage. She leaned over the garbage pail, stooping, while her dress, a warm pumpkin color, drooped gracefully to the floor around her. Suddenly she tottered and dropped a plate and it broke. “I’m so clumsy,” she said, and sat back onto the floor. “I’m dizzy.”
    Pearl leaned over to put her hands under