The Yiddish Gangster's Daughter (A Becks Ruchinsky Mystery Book 1) by Joan Cochran (popular books of all time .txt) 📗

north helped those left behind when they could. If Schatzi hadn’t put Moe in touch with Landauer, neither of us would’ve come out of the army with a job.

You had to be tough to survive back then. I needed it on the streets of New York, where I had to fight Irish and Italian kids almost every day. And I needed it to get through the stinking war. When I left the army and moved to Miami, the only assets I had were my size and my fists. Moe had the same skills and made a nice living working for Landauer. There was no reason I shouldn’t do so the same. And I never hurt anyone. If people wanted to spend their dough betting on numbers, who was I to judge? It was business. How could I know things would turn out so miserably?

I go to the kitchen and open the refrigerator. Nothing worth eating so I shut it again. When I turn around, I spot Bernice and the girls’ photos. Their eyes, dark and accusing, follow me as I return to the living room. I don’t know how much more of this secrecy I can bear. Hiding my past has become torture. My world would be so much less complicated if everything was out in the open. But then I’d be alone, shunned by my daughters and grandchildren. And life wouldn’t be worth living.

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22

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I’m dozing on the family room couch with the television on after dropping off Tootsie when the phone rings. It takes a few seconds to identify the sound and I’m half awake when I pick up the receiver and mumble “Hello.”

“Becks?” It’s my sister, Esther. She sounds surprised. As though she expects me to be out on a date. Or, more likely, asleep.

I glance at the clock on the cable box. It’s almost midnight. “What’s going on?” We’re both problem sleepers so I figure she’s called to chat.

“Listen, I . . . ” She hesitates. “I’m sorry to call so late, but Bruce is out of town and . . . I need to talk to you. I got some scary news yesterday.”

I’m completely awake now and flip off the television. “What happened? Are the girls okay?” Her two daughters are away at college.

“They’re fine. But I went for my mammogram yesterday. Then afterward the radiologist suggested I get an ultrasound. He didn’t want me to wait. He did it right away. And something’s wrong. My doctor wants me to have a biopsy.”

“My God.” My heart skips a beat. “Did he say what it is?” I don’t want to use the word cancer, but what else could it be?

“Not yet. Just that he saw something, maybe just calcifications, and needs to probe further.”

“What’s that mean?”

“He says the biopsy will tell us more. I have it scheduled for Tuesday after school.”

“I’ll come up. I can get a flight tomorrow. Or drive.” My sister lives in Greensboro, North Carolina so it’s a short flight away. She teaches third grade and I want to be there when she gets out of class so I can accompany her to her appointment.

“Are you sure? You already have enough going on. I told Bruce and he’s flying home now. He’s supposed to start a trial in Atlanta on Tuesday.”

She doesn’t need to spell it out: there’s nothing like having a sister near when you’re in trouble.

“I’ll leave in the morning,” I say.

“Would you? I’m so scared.” Her voice quavers. “How am I going to tell the girls? They’re coming home from college for Thanksgiving.”

Esther’s daughter Michelle is a senior at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, and Ariel is a junior there. We joke that Ariel still needs to let go of the umbilical cord, she’s so attached to Esther. She’ll be panic-stricken if her mother has cancer. I don’t know that my own boys would be any less upset if I became ill.

“I don’t think I can handle this.”

The fear in her voice frightens me and I search my mind for comforting phrases. “You’ll be fine. You’ll get through it.” Then, without thinking, I say, “Daniel will help.”

I’m surprised at my words. I’ve done everything possible to avoid my husband.

Esther knows this. In fact, she’s the only one who supported me in my decision to spend time away from Daniel. Aviva and Noah think we should go for marriage counseling and Mindy, like my father, thinks I should forgive Daniel and take him back. But Esther and I suffered together through our parents’ arguments and she’s as familiar as I am with the toll infidelity takes.

“Could you call Daniel, let him know what’s going on?” she asks before I can sort through my thoughts. “I know it’s not easy for you. But I trust his judgment. I’d feel so much better if he got involved. If you want me to call . . .”

“No, I’ll do it.” I try to sound reassuring. She’s got enough to think about. “Why don’t you come here and see him? Let him take over your care. Whatever it is, you’ll move to Boca Raton and stay with me.”

“Really? I was half hoping you’d offer. I can fly down early this week.” She hesitates a moment. “And don’t say anything to Dad.”

Before I can protest, she hangs up.

It’s no mean trick getting to sleep that night. I picture my sister in a hospital bed, hooked up to all manner of tubes and wires. All I can think about is how I’ll handle it if Esther has cancer—or worse, dies. I’m battered and emotionally drained by events of the last few months. First Daniel betrays me. Then my father reveals his ugly past. But Esther having cancer? Everything pales before that.

Lying in bed with my eyes open, I search for the bright spots in my life. Josh calls every Friday night to see how I’m doing. I love that he feels so protective toward me. He has a tendency to take care of others,