E ver since the Pearl Harbor attack Annie’s thoughts had dwelt on a dark and frightening future. But now in this serene Borough Park home it was the past that was becoming bewildering grim; a past where people she thought she knew — and loved — were being transformed before her eyes.
Rachel continued the story. “Once your father got over the first relief at finding his son he turned to his sister-in-law. He was far less…” she paused looking for the correct word “…far less controlled than he seems to be now. He called her irresponsible neglectful and selfish. I had gone out to search for your brother so I was there. It was quite a scene…” Despite her serious tone Rachel’s eyes twinkled slightly; she was a woman who enjoyed high drama. “Cele of course didn’t simply apologize for what she’d done as she should have. She lashed out at your father making wild accusations. Why she actually said he’d sent your mother to her grave.”
Annie couldn’t help herself. “Well he did push my mamma to go out and help others when she was still ill herself.”
Rachel turned an astonished eye on her. “Is that what you think child? Nonsense!” Her voice softened. “Your mother was a tzadeikes Annie as giving and generous as her sister was selfish. But one thing they had in common: They were both headstrong. Why Natie and I used to laugh at how your father who was quite a strong personality himself used to do whatever his wife told him. Your father couldn’t push your mother to do anything. If your mother had decided to go and nurse a sick family there was nothing your father could have done to change her mind.”