A FBOW excerpt in sequence: “Elizabeth and Myron”

Lowering her eyes, changing the subject. “Your son… How’s your son?”

“Mikey’s fine, thanks! But we’ve two more now, you know.”

“You’ve ‘two’ more kids?” Blinking her eyes rapidly. Three kids! The impossible situation becoming even more impossible. Swallowing, thinking, He’s got three kids!

Losing a bit of composure. “ ‘Wow’!” Elizabeth said. “When’d that happen?”

“My father-in-law… Marsha’s father was murdered about four years ago…”

“ ‘Murdered’!”

“Yeah. He had a grill on East Madison Street. You know, near the skid row area, and a drunk…” not sure what word to use, “a shvartz… uh, a negro came in and shot him.”

“A ‘shvartzer’ shot him! Oh, my God! How terrible!”

“Yeah. And Marsha wanted to give her father a name, so we… she became pregnant as soon as she could.”

Nodding appreciatively. “Yes, I can understand that.”

“So we had a girl and named her ‘Ellie’—My father-in-law’s name was ‘Eli’. And ‘Sammy’… Well, she just wanted another baby.”

Quiet a long moment. “Your wife… Marsha, she like’s having babies, does she?”

“Well, yeah. Seems she does.”

Asked for a specific reason. “And you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You like having babies also?”

“Me?” Smiling, “I kind’a like making them.”

“Here you go, folks.” Placing Elizabeth’s house salad with vinaigrette dressing, on the side and Mitchell’s…

Smelling it, Oh, my God! Hearing her stomach growl. Knowing she was drooling—actually she wasn’t, but thinking she was. Looking away, trying to think of something else, Elizabeth dabbed at her lips with the napkin.

Moving the lettuce around with her fork. Watching as he poured catsup over the fries…

Looking up, seeing Elizabeth looking at his dish. “I’ve plenty, if you want some…”

“ ‘No’!” Said a bit louder than necessary. “Sorry, Mitch, but I’m...” she said weakly, “...watching my weight.”

Cutting the hamburger in half, about to—not said in a condescending way but in an affectionate way—the word ‘Honey’ about to roll off his lips. Catching himself. “Liz, you look absolutely fine to me!”

Taking a bite, watching her as she watched the hamburger travel from the plate to his mouth.

Her eyes dropping. Looking to the shallow bowl before her. Pouring a thin stream of vinaigrette dressing onto the salad and as though forcing herself, which, indeed she was, spearing a cherry tomato, she unenthusiastic ally popped it into her mouth.

Both quiet…

Thinking of telling him. Maybe to shock him as his news of three children had shocked her. But also by telling him it might get her mind off the hamburger and fries.

“Mitchie...” toying with a slice of cucumber, “...I want to tell you something.”

Swallowing, taking a drink of water, he looked at her over the rim of the glass.

“But You’ve ‘got’ to promise! You ‘can’t’ tell anyone.”

Intrigued now. “Sure, if you don’t want me to say anything...” he said sincerely, “...I ‘promise’ I won’t.”

Hesitating again, looking at her dish…Then, once again their eyes locking. “I’m married.”

“You’re what?”

“ ‘Married’. I’ve been married for about three and a half years.”

Confused by his contradicting emotions. Married? His heart sinking, but yet glad because now, foolishly thinking, If she’s married nothing can happen between us.“ ‘Why’?” he asked. “Why’s it a secret?”

“When they hired me, I got grilled. ‘Really’ grilled about ‘was I married’. ‘Do I intend to get married or plan on having any kids’?

“Gene told me that being the first woman to work for the company they planned on putting a lot of effort into me and promised me a really good territory, but wanted my assurances that I had ‘no’ intentions about having any children.

“And I got the impression that they thought if I ‘was’ married I’d probably want kids. So not being married was kind of a bonus to them. So, when Myron and me…

“ ‘Myron’? I thought you said his name was, uh,” thinking, “Howard.”

“ ‘Howard’?”

“Yeah. When the three of us, you’n’Marsha’n’me, were sitting together at the Christmas dinner two years ago, you said you were engaged to a ‘Howie’.’”

“Nah.” Smiling. “That was all made up to get Marsha off my back.”

Remembering. Taking a bite of hamburger. “Yeah.” Remembering Marsha’s unnerving attitude, “I can see why.”

Cutting a chunk of iceberg lettuce, swishing it around the vinaigrette dressing on the bottom of the shallow bowl. Putting it into her mouth she unithusiastically chewed.

“So you can see why I don’t want anyone to know because I really love my job and don’t want them, Transco, getting the idea that I might, maybe...”—which, afraid of regaining her weight really, ‘truly’ she did not—...“want to become pregnant because then they might get worried and start thinking about cutting my territory or firing me.”

Working on the second half of the hamburger. “So what does, uh…?”

Her confession no way allaying her desire for that hamburger. “ ‘Myron’.”

“Yeah. So what does Myron think about keeping your marriage a secret?”

“Well...” her fork poised to spear a french fry but knowing one fry would lead to another. Calling upon all the will power she had, “...I’m making more money then him, so…”

Cutting her off. Revealing a bit of the depth of his feeling for her. “If it was me married to you… ”My God, I wish! “...I’d sure as hell care!” Mitchell said emphatically.

Thinking, My God, I wish! “Seeing as I’m the one bringing most of the money into the house he really doesn’t care.”

“So you’re not really...” finishing the last of the hamburger, “… ‘Elizabeth Herzon’ anymore.”

Glad to see the hamburger gone. “No…” Leaving most of her salad, “...so now I guess I’m Elizabeth Lipshitz.”

“ ‘Lipshitz’?” Chuckling, “That’s almost as bad as Lipensky.”

“Mitchell…” Their eyes locked, for the second time saying one of those things that are occasionally said before the brain has a chance to process one’s thoughts… Or maybe not, “…I’d ‘love’ it if my name was Lipensky.”

She loves me!

Remembering: Hearing Marsha’s words: ‘What I think of you’? Remembering: Seeing Marsha’s lip curled in disgust. Seeing the look of scorn on her face. Hearing: ‘What I ‘really’ think of you? Mitchell, you don’t want to know’!

His forehead furling. His brain processing: ‘I’d love it if my name was Lipensky.’ Scaring him… Elizabeth loves me! ...the ramifications terrifying.

Sending a shot of electricity through both. Taking hold of her hand. “Elizabeth… ‘honey’...” the word now rolling off his lips. “...I’ve…”

‘Honey’, Elizabeth thought, he called me honey!

Stopping, chewing his lip to keep from saying what he really wanted to say. Their eyes locked once again. “…I’ve got tremendous feelings for you and I know you do me, too. But I’m… we’re both married and we… Elizabeth, I love my kids,” he said emphatically. “And I just can’t do it. I’d like… If things were different, I’d love nothing more than to hold you and...” whispering, “...kiss you and…” Oh, God! “...but I can’t!”

His eyes shifting, looking at her hand in his. Seeing… Feeling her fingers tightening about his.

Wanting to hold this hand for the rest of his life. However, “I don’t think we should do this again.”

Her heart quickening, He said he loves his kids but not Marsha, and he just about told me he loves me!

Knowing what he meant but attempting to smile. “Have lunch together?” she asked.

Seeing the shadow of Elizabeth’s crooked smile. Fighting the urge to lean across the table and kiss her…

Instead, reluctantly releasing her hand. “Meet… in any way because I…” Shaking his head, leaving it unsaid. “I just think it would be best if we didn’t see each other like this again.”

Elizabeth…

When Mitchell left for Peoria in January of 1959, Elizabeth felt relief.

Actually, Elizabeth Herzon could not wait for Mitchell Lipensky to be away and out of her life because from that moment in December of 1958 when she had impulsively initiated a kiss within Transco’s cardboard canyon and Mitchell’s instantaneous sexual reaction and spontaneous return of that kiss, Elizabeth Herzon had fallen deeply in love. And knowing it was not, nor could ever be what she wanted—to spend her life with Mitchell—she wanted him away and out of her life.

And, if not mentally than certainly physically, Mitchell was out of her life…

Until August 18, 1961, when, going over a complicated quotation for a million special size, special window envelopes, Gene Tarnowski had mentioned that Bill Krupper had finally given a ‘definite’, ‘approximate’ retirement date and that he was considering who to place into one of the three remaining portions of Tom’s divided territory when Elizabeth, in another of those instances of impetuously speaking before thinking—Impetuously? Maybe—had suggested contacting Mitchell.

Other than her desire for a married man with a child, now three children, Elizabeth Herzon was a pleasant, well brought up, extremely nice young woman.

However, when she’d met Mitchell, other than just his appearance—which was certainly a large part of the attraction—there was something about Mitchell’s unassuming, quiet demeanour that remotely reminded Elizabeth of herself.

Born in 1936—Two years younger than Mitchell…

As a child that always found herself on the outside looking in. As a child that due to her weight was taunted and tormented in grade school, and in high school snubbed and rejected by those whom she wanted to be accepted by and ostensibly befriended by a few boys that thought she was pretty but fat and wanted only to get their hands onto her breasts.

Consequently Elizabeth spent those sad years as a ‘loner’..

Until Tuesday September 2,1956, when entering ‘Wright Junior College’, at near age eighteen, when at that time Elizabeth Herzon decided that she no longer wanted to be…

“Oy, such a punnum! Such a beautiful face!” Her mother and father and aunts and uncles would say. “Such a shame she’s so fat!”

Upon entering Wright Junior College, Elizabeth Herzon decided that she no longer wanted to be a fat girl. So she then spent the next fourteen months eating only what necessity demanded for her to remain a viable human being.

Days going into weeks…

Weeks going into months…

The excessive fat within her face, neck and shoulders gone.

Cheeks and jaw taking shape, her neck thinning.

“Oy, such a punnum! Such a beautiful face!” her mother and father and aunts and uncles would say.

Months going into a year…

The excessive fat within her body gone.

Bust, waist and buttocks taking shape.

“Oy, such a figure!” three of her uncles said.

“Oy, such a tush!” her fourth uncle said playfully—playfully?—patting his niece’s left buttock.

More days, weeks and months...

Fourteen months and a bit more than seventy pounds later, turned from an overweight duckling to a beautiful swan, Elizabeth graduated from Wright Junior College in late May of 1958.

Although still seeing a fat girl when she looked in the mirror. Wisely knowing this was nothing more than an unhappy illusion from the past.

Forcing a show of confidence, Elizabeth found her way to an unknown beauty shop and— for the first time in her life had her eyebrows plucked and shaped and, for the first time in her life, had her long hair styled and tinted to bring out the honey coloured highlights in her naturally dark blonde hair and…

Obtaining a job as salesgirl in the woman’s clothing department at ‘The Boston Store’ in downtown Chicago—for the first time in her life Elizabeth Herzon purchased stylish, well fitted clothing.

On Monday, September 8, 1958, Elizabeth answered an ad in the ‘Chicago Tribune’ for a female sales trainee for Transco Envelope Company.

An appointment made for 9:00 a.m., Wednesday, September 10, 1958.

Wednesday morning: Dressed in a navy blue linen suit and black, one and a half inch heel pumps, Elizabeth Herzon was escorted to the office of Gene Tarnowski where…

Calling upon all the self confidence and courage she could muster, Elizabeth attempted to convince Tarnowski that she was the right woman for the job.

Surprisingly, she did convince Tarnowski that she ‘was’ the right woman for the job and so began her training phase on September 12, 1958, a week and a half after Mitchell Lipensky.

****

With the bitter-sweet reality that Mitchell was away and out of her life, one would assume that Elizabeth would attempt to place herself into a position to meet men.

However, not one to frequent bars, Elizabeth had no idea how or where to place herself to be in a position to meet men.

Occasionally a customer would ask her out. But adhering to her’s and Transco Envelope Companies strict ‘no customer dating’ policy she, very politely, refused.

Unable to shed years of an indifferent, contemptuous attitude, Elizabeth’s personality still repulsed or intimidated most of the young men she did meet, until…

“Oy, he’s such a nice Jewish boy!” Aunt Bertha said.

“He’s the nephew of my best friend, Clara, and he’s graduated from ‘U of I’!”

Speaking rapidly, attempting to convince her no longer fat, now beautiful niece—short of a doctor or lawyer, it’s every Jewish mother’s, or aunt’s dream that their daughter, or niece marry a…

“And he’s going to be a ‘C.P.A.’!” Aunt Bertha said while absently stirring her tea.

Seeing the unconcerned look on Elizabeth’s face.

“And Myron’s…” winking, flexing both arms to signify, “...so good looking!”

After a week of cajoling, to shut her mother and father and

Aunt Bertha up, Elizabeth agreed to meet her aunt’s best friend’s nephew.

Yes, Myron Lipshitz was good looking, and would, eventually, earn a very good living as a C.P.A. And now that Mitchell was away and out of her life, “Okay,” she told Myron on March 3, 1959, when he called for the third time, “I’ll go to a movie with you.”

Tired of being alone. Tired of dreaming about a man that was, after all, married with a child.

Tired of being a virgin and finding ‘such a nice Jewish boy’ with good potential that told her he loved her and agreed—their mothers should only know—that they would not have children.

Also, Myron agreed that it was okay to keep their marriage a secret from anyone she worked with and, being an accountant, Myron knew they would net a healthy IRS refund after she received her yearly W-2 form.

Myron Lipshitz also agreed to no sex until after they were married.

As for Elizabeth? Elizabeth tried to convince herself that she loved Myron.

Insisting on a small wedding, Elizabeth Herzon and Myron Lipshitz were married on Sunday, May 10, 1959, which, coincidentally, and as she never planned on having children, ironically, was Mother’s Day.

***

Claiming shyness—though showing her nude body Elizabeth truly was shy. Literally kept in the dark the first few times, upon seeing his new wife’s nude body for the first time, although enthralled with her overall beauty, the new husband also saw the stretch marks across her flaccid stomach, breasts, ample buttocks and Elizabeth’s cellulite dimpled, still somewhat pudgy thighs.

About Mitchell’s age. Myron played basketball each Sunday morning with some of his local college pals and went to a gym to work out at least twice a week, and undertook a…

To Elizabeth, her husband undertook a physically stressful campaign of indoor and outdoor exercise that in time, a very short time, became a hateful duty that….

Elizabeth’s metabolism finding its niche, telling her body the weight she was, was the weight she most probably was going to remain.

Although Myron’s regimen of exercise did keep additional weight off—along with Elizabeth’s low calorie and at times near starvation diet did ‘indeed’ do a fairly decent job of firming ‘things’ up.

However Myron’s by then despised program of exercise did nothing to alleviate the stretch marks and very little of the cellulite.

Though Elizabeth still did and always would see a—albeit a fairly accomplished— fat girl in her mirror, all in all, as ‘things’ now stood, the nude body of Elizabeth Hurzon Lipshitz was far, ‘very far’ from repulsive and, other than an ‘athletic zealot’, would sexually excite most men…

Especially those men who’s wives had given multiple births.

****

Myron and Elizabeth being ‘only’ children…

‘So, when you going to make me a bubbeh’?

The parental pressure beginning early in their marriage.

“So, nu, we going to be bubbeh and zadde soon’?

‘Ma, Pa...’ Myron and Elizabeth told their parents, ‘...we’re not ready to make you grandparents yet’.

‘Wait, we’ve plenty of time’!

In time. In not too long a time—much as Mitchell Lipensky’s continuing campaign to have Marsha patch things with his parents…

Besides his ongoing push for more and more strenuous exercise that Elizabeth hated, Myron Lipshitz began his own continuing, ‘Let’s get pregnant’ campaign that his wife flatly refused to consider.

Which, obviously, led to heated arguments.

Which, subsequently, subconsciously might have been the reason why— after a bit less than two and a half years of marriage, when on August 18, 1961, Gene Tarnowski had mentioned that Bill Krupper had given a ‘definite’, ‘approximate’, retirement date and that he was considering whom to place into the remainder of Bill’s divided territory.

It was at that time when Elizabeth—another of those instances of speaking before thinking… maybe—had suggested contacting Mitchell.

Next FBOW excerpt in sequence: “

Marsha