“That’s a lot of money.”
“I’ve been shopping it around to investors. All I need is a few more people to buy in, and then it’s a win for everyone.”
“A lot of men in this town lost their shirts on Florida land deals in ’26.”
“Sure, I know,” said Isaac. “It’s part of the reason I’m getting this parcel so cheap. Playing the long game.”
They passed City Hall. “Did you hear the Commodore is sick?” Joseph asked, eager for a distraction. The city commissioner, Louis Kuehnle, was an Atlantic City legend.
Isaac couldn’t be deterred. “I thought it might be a good opportunity for you. A chance to diversify your investments. If you agreed to buy fifty acres, I’d have enough commitments to close the deal.”
“Have you talked to Fannie about any of this?”
“A little.”
“What did she say?”
“You know how women are. They’ve got no head for business.”
How could Joseph tell Isaac that his plan was not just stupid but irresponsible? That investing in real estate he’d never seen was akin to buying the air he breathed. Sure, it was there but could he touch it?
“It’s a bad time for me,” said Joseph, thinking about the bank statement he’d just given Mrs. Simons. Directly in front of them sat the old bakery, the apartment above it.
“I still owe Abe for the burial, and I’m trying to help Anna’s parents get over here, if I can.” Joseph was also paying for Fannie’s hospital room—Isaac hadn’t even attempted to pay the bill since Esther had upgraded her to a private room—but he let that go unsaid.
“Anna’s parents?”
“Right.”
“Can’t they pay their own way over?”
Joseph couldn’t believe his son-in-law’s gall. What concern was it of his? In another few steps they’d arrive at the apartment, and if Joseph was going to speak his mind, he needed to do so quickly, before Gussie caught sight of them and careened into her father’s arms. “I don’t like to bring this up, but do I need to remind you about your loan?”
“Which I pay on every month.”
“I would argue that, if you’ve got enough money to invest in land deals, you might consider paying me in full. Or, at the very least, paying a portion of your wife’s hospital bills.”
They were nearly at the door that led up the stairs to the apartment. Joseph felt for his keys in his pocket. Had he gone too far? He tried to remember a time when he had been this honest with Isaac and couldn’t. It felt surprisingly good.
“I’m sorry if that sounded harsh,” he said, his back to Isaac as he put the key in the lock and turned it. “I didn’t mean for it to but I’m just tapped.” Joseph opened the door and held it for his son-in-law but when he turned around to look for him, Isaac was gone.
Esther had been unreachable ever since Florence died, but in the past week, her demeanor had turned icy. No one had ever described her as warm but, for Joseph, the seriousness with which she approached their lives had always been part of her appeal. She could be dismissive with customers and stoic with her own children but, in front of Joseph, she revealed herself. If he caught her with her guard down, her shoulders relaxed and her eyes bright, if she laughed at something he said or if she reached for his waist, intent on pulling him close, he felt sure he had earned the most coveted prize on earth.
There was little chance that Esther would pull him close this evening. When he entered the apartment, still puzzling over his conversation with Isaac, he followed the smell of schnitzel back to the kitchen, where he found his wife muttering over the stove. Joseph moved to kiss her hello but she swatted him away.
“Where are Gussie and Anna?” he asked.
“Gussie’s in the back, cutting up more magazines, and Anna’s out.”
“Out where?”
“How should I know where? I’m not her mother.”
There was an accusation in her retort, and Joseph felt it with all the blunt force Esther had intended. Ever since Florence had died, Joseph had wondered whether he was asking too much of Esther. Was it cruel to allow a girl almost precisely Florence’s age to share their home? And not just any girl—Inez’s daughter?
He wanted to tell her about the drive up to Highlands and the Lafayette sighting, about Bill Burgess’s refund and the account he’d opened for Inez and Paul. But he didn’t dare say any of it, not until her mood lifted.
Joseph tried a safer topic. “Dinner smells good.”
Esther was not going to be distracted by a simple compliment. “If I had to guess where Anna was, I’d tell you that she’s on the beach, getting a private swim lesson from Stuart.”
“Our Stuart?”
Esther narrowed her eyes at him. “I didn’t realize Stuart was ours.”
“You know what I mean.”
“He most certainly wasn’t Florence’s.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Here’s what I know,” said Esther, straightening her back and drawing in all her breath. “I want Anna out.”
Isaac
Isaac’s instinct, after he had turned on his heel and left Joseph fumbling for his keys on the sidewalk in front of the Adlers’ apartment, had been to go directly to the hospital, find Fannie, and tell her everything. He’d start with Florence’s death and the manic lies Joseph and Esther had told in the subsequent month but then he thought he might go further. It would feel good to tell her that her parents hated him, that they were turning Gussie against him, that he was sure her father was in love with Anna’s mother, and that he was never going to run Adler’s if Joseph had anything to do with it.
He imagined going further still. What if he
