New York - The Novel

Charlie and led him to the little counter to sign in, Sarah went over to it. After a moment or two she took off her coat and sat on the low ottoman in front of the cheerful blaze. She was wearing a white shirt and a cardigan. Charlie glanced over toward her and smiled; the fire was already giving her face a charming glow. Just then, an ember fell out of the fire. She reached forward for the tongs, in order to replace it, and as she did so the little Jewish star on its chain swung out from her neck, catching the firelight. Having put the glowing ember back on the fire, she got up and came toward the desk.
    The manager of the place had just been starting to tell him about the room when Charlie noticed him look sharply across at Sarah as she leaned down by the fire. Now, as she came over, the man was staring at her neck.
    “Nice fire,” she remarked.
    “Excuse me,” said the manager, and went into the little office behind the desk. A minute or so passed before he came back.
    “I am so sorry, sir,” he said to Charlie, “but there seems to be a problemwith the booking. When you came in, I mistook you for another guest. We don’t seem to have a reservation for Master at all.”
    “But I telephoned. The reservation was definitely made.”
    “I cannot tell you how it happened, sir, and I do apologize. But I’m afraid we’re entirely full. I just went to make sure. All our weekend guests are already here.”
    “There must be a room.”
    “No, sir. There’s absolutely nothing. I don’t know what to say.”
    “But I’ve just driven out from the city.”
    “Yes, sir. There’s another hotel a couple of miles away I could direct you to. They may have space.”
    “Damn the other hotel. I booked here. I demand my room.”
    “I’m very sorry.”
    “Charlie.” It was Sarah, at his side. “Come over by the fire, Charlie,” she said softly. “I want to tell you something.” With an irritated shrug, Charlie did as she asked.
    “What is it?” he said.
    “Charlie, I don’t want to stay here. I’ll explain in the car.” Charlie started to protest, but she put her hand on his arm. “Please, Charlie.”
    Thoroughly angry, and mystified, Charlie took the bags and went out to the car with her. When they were sitting inside, she turned to him.
    “It’s me, Charlie. He didn’t have a room when he saw me.”
    “You mean he saw you didn’t have a wedding ring? I hardly think—”
    “No, Charlie. It was my pendant he saw.”
    “Your pendant?”
    “The Star of David. He realized I’m Jewish.”
    “That’s absurd.”
    “They don’t have Jewish people in this hotel, Charlie. This is Connecticut—how many miles are we from Darien?”
    It was said that a Jewish person couldn’t even buy a house in nearby Darien. Charlie didn’t know if it was true; more likely just an ugly rumor. And anyway, the horrors of the thirties and the war had changed all that sort of thing. People weren’t anti-Semitic now. You couldn’t be.
    “I don’t believe it.”
    “If you go out with me, Charlie, you have to accept these things are going to happen. You think a Jew can get into most country clubs? My mother was fired by a bank for being Jewish. Are you telling me that people you know, like your own family, don’t make anti-Semitic remarks?”
    Charlie thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Okay. Maybe sometimes. But it’s just a sort of Episcopal, old-money thing. People like my mother look down on anyone who isn’t one of them. Jewish, Irish, Italian, you know. It’s ridiculous, but they don’t really mean anything by it. I mean, they’d never—”
    “You’re right, Charlie. I’m sorry. So how does it feel, being thrown out of a hotel?”
    “I’m going to make him give us that room.”
    “Just take me back, Charlie. It was very nice of you to bring me out here, but can we eat in the city, please?”
    And as the weeks went by Charlie realized that she was right. Of course, being involved with the theater and the arts, he’d always had plenty of Jewish friends. He had friends of all sorts, for that matter. When he was with them, they might refer to their Jewishness sometimes, or tease him a little for being an Episcopalian blue blood. But these things never came up very much. And when he was with his own crowd, people he’d known at school, that sort of thing, there might be things said about all kinds of races that you wouldn’t say in other company. Harmless prejudices, little jokes. They hardly