As for the kids? They knew to get out of the house as fast as they could on Sunday morning, to avoid being assigned a cleaning job. This worked most of the time, but once the music was playing, they didn’t mind sticking around the house to fold towels, especially if she played some Tony Bennett on the record player.

  A thump was heard from the ceiling that brought her back to where she was, and what she needed to do. Lilly touched her hair and looked around for a handkerchief of some kind but was out of luck. Luckily, she had an elastic on her wrist from the newspaper that morning, so she wrapped her hair into a bun with it, rolled up her sleeves, and went to collect the cleaning supplies.

  As she placed the bucket at her feet and scanned the height of the bookshelf, a familiar voice entered her head encouraging her to come up with a plan.

  “Dust falls from the top, so it’s best to start cleaning from the top shelf.” This advice came from her mother, who had told her this method when she would work at her store after school, as dust was not a welcome guest in a grocery store. “Nobody will buy these canned goods if they’re dirty.”

  “Oh mother—your advice is ingrained in my mind!” Lilly caught herself saying out loud. She was relieved she was alone; while shaking her head in disbelief, she couldn’t believe she had just responded to a voice inside her head. But the memory got the best of her, and she giggled and came to a realization. How appreciative she was toward her mother. The advice that entered her mind that morning was used every time she cleaned her own home, and now it would prove useful to her again at the job she had to get due to her current situation. Shit, she knew her stuff.

  Lilly didn’t have her record player with her, so she hummed instead. She then picked up that first shoe box and began her mission: to tackle one full shelf each day, starting at the top and making her way down. She needed to do whatever it took to finish the job properly, as there really was no rush.

  Taking care of the basement shoe boxes soon became a pattern that created a sort of thrill, so to speak. Even though she only cleaned her home once a week, she never saw dust like this before. The amount that she collected on her cloth from the dust on the shelves was thick and dark. She made a sour face and whined “Eeeewww” as she dumped the debris into the wastebasket. After that job was done, she would open the shoe box and check the shoes. If not matched, just as Mr. Fine requested, she put the pair aside. The real thrill came when she found the matching shoe to the orphaned one.

  “Yay, I found it!” she announced aloud while placing the pair together. “You found your partner,” she would happily say to the shoes before placing the box back on the cleaned shelf.

  Nobody heard her, so she didn’t care.

  She then she’d begin the next row. And the next. And the pattern went like this,

  Lift

  Spritz

  Wipe

  Eeeeewww

  Plop

  Check

  Yay!

  The pattern repeated over and over until her stomach growled as it was lunch time and she had completed half of the first unit of shelves. As she washed her hands in the bathroom sink, she felt accomplished, even though the task was as mundane as it was.

  Once she opened the basement door to the shoe department, Vivian was waiting for her with her lunch bag.

  “How did it go?” Vivian asked, looking concerned while playing with the pearls around her neck.

  “You know, not that bad; I’ve got a system,” Lilly said proudly.

  Vivian smiled back like a proud parent and said, “We’ve all been there.”

  “I figured!”

  “How did you pass the time?”

  “My mother’s cleaning advice, music from my head and the uncanny thrill of cleaning dust as thick as cream cheese,” Lilly said proudly.

  “Darling, you are a natural. Why don’t we discuss this over lunch? Coffee’s my treat.” Vivian said as she put her arm around Lilly and the two of them enjoyed their lunch together for the full 20 minutes that were allocated.

  For the next nine days, to the basement Lilly went to finish the job with her least favorite wool cardigan in tow. She didn’t have a care in the world if it got dirty, as it had many holes that could not be sewn.

  Mr. Fine came to inspect the shoe shelves from time to time. He didn’t say much, except an un huh or an okay, which Vivian diagnosed as a good thing—and she was right.

  The request to get two days off for Rosh Hashanah was quickly approaching. On the last day of the shoe box shelf-cleaning job, just before the last three rows needed to be done, as terrifying as it was, Lilly finally spoke to Mr. Fine.

  Lilly bit her lip while she knocked on his office door.

  “Yes? “Mr. Fine said through his closed door. Lilly opened it and gave the happiest smile she could muster to her boss, which was probably on the boarder of fake as the nervousness took away any sign of authenticity. “Are you done?”

  “Almost.”

  “Then, what are you doing here? Go back downstairs and finish the job.”

  “Oh, I will, I just need to ask you something,” Lilly bashfully said as Mr. Fine stared straight ahead, waiting impatiently, as he tapped his pen on his papers.

  “If you will, Mr. Fine,” Lilly began.

  “Yes?” Mr. Fine responded, waiting Lilly to ask her question, but then frustratingly looked down at his accounting books, as this encounter was going nowhere, and Lilly was wasting his time.

  “The Jewish New Year—Rosh Hashanah—is coming up next week. I was wondering if I could miss work so I could go to synagogue.”

  “Why can’t you just go on a Sunday when the store is closed?” Mr. Fine responded but didn’t look up from his papers.

  “Because that’s not when Rosh Hashana is.”

  “Well, why can’t you just celebrate it on another day?”

  Lilly stared straight ahead, not knowing what to say except, “That’s like asking you to celebrate Christmas on the twenty-third of December!”

  Mr. Fine’s head sprang up from his books like a bobble-head toy to face Lilly. His eyes were piercing. “Excuse me?”

  Lilly decided that she shouldn’t have made a Christmas comparison. “I’m sorry, Mr. Fine. It’s an important holiday.”

  Mr. Fine glared to the left. His lips were sealed so tightly that you could see a white rim around them. He then got up and walked away.

  “Mr. Fine? Does that mean I can have it off?” Lilly asked, and wondered if she was just fired. She thought about it, and it didn’t make sense to her. Why shouldn’t she take off a Jewish holiday? She would totally work on Christmas. To her, that was just like any other day. She slumped on the wall and stared at the ceiling.

  “Oh, my goodness,” Vivian said behind her back.

  Lilly turned her head to see her.

  “I can’t believe you asked to take days off for the high holidays.”

  Lilly raised her eyebrows.

  “I have worked here for years, and I never asked for that.”

  “Why would you?”

  “I’m Jewish too,” Vivian whispered.

  An immediate bond was felt by Lilly, which relaxed her shoulders, and made her eyes soften. A common background of rituals and spirituality was shared regardless of the degree of practice. At least that was what Lilly felt, as she wondered why Vivian didn’t ask to attend synagogue during the holiest holiday of the year.

  “Why don’t you ask too?” Lilly prompt.

  “I don’t want to blow my cover, as I was told to keep quiet about it.”

  “Cover? Why are you hiding?”

  “We shouldn’t advertise it.”

  “Says who? Why do you have to hide from it.”

  “People don’t like Jews period.”

  “But why?”

  “You’re new here—you have no idea.”

  Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur arrived and miraculously, both girls were given the days off, but without pay. Mr. Fine may have had a narrow mind and a short temper, but he was fair. He ran out of his office that afternoon to speak to the administration, where he asked what the proper accommodations were for the situation.

  And Vivian was right, as Lilly didn’t know what it was like to be a Jewish woman in a department store in the early 1950s in Montreal as it was only her second week, but she learned quickly. Later that evening, Lilly’s telephone rang.

  “I need to continue what we were talking about. It wasn’t fair that I dropped that comment on you about hiding who I am, without explaining,” Vivian blurted out, without even saying hello first.

  “Go on,” Lilly encouraged, while the two ladies spoke through three cigarettes for Lilly and a whole row of brownies, eaten directly out of the pan for Vivian along with several nose honks into a tissue.

  “How could you face Mme. Tremblay and Elaine after they said those things to you?”

  “I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to be at Sunderland’s so badly, I just swallowed their comments and shat them out when I got home.”

  “Does anyone else go through stuff like this at work?”

  “Hard to say, as I am the only one of my friends who works in retail. Although I do have a friend who is in pharmacy school that told me that his Christian classmates give him the missed notes whenever he takes off for the Jewish holidays. Without even asking. Just like that.”

  “Just like that, huh.”

  “Yeah. Just like that.”

  Breakfast at Beauty’s

  Saturday was the best day to work at Sunderland’s. No deliveries were made to the store, not any inventory work or cleaning was expected, as that was the day of the week where it was all about the customer and how many times you could make that cash register ring. The department store got super busy on this day, and extra help was needed in every department. On those Saturdays that Lilly had custody of her children and needed to be in the store, the kids spent the day at their cousins’.

  Each week, Lilly carefully saved up a part of her salary, along with her employee discount, and brought home a new toy for her kids. Either a new train set or a new doll. The hours she spent away from home was taking a toll on her conscience and hitting the red mark on the guilt meter, each day. Thankfully, family was nearby so their uncles and aunts would scoop them up from home to add them to their herd. In winter it was tobogganing and in the summer, they would turn on the sprinkler in their backyard. Lilly’s middle son had a fascination with marbles, which kept him, his cousins, and the neighborhood kids busy for hours. He really seems to have a knack for collecting a crowd, she thought to herself one day as she wiped away his milk mustache, knowing a bunch of kids were outside their front door waiting for him to come out and play.

  And then, a rare and enticing opportunity came up for Vivian, and she decided to take her new friend with her.

  “What do you think of dining at Beauty’s on the occasional Wednesday, sponsored by Sunderland’s?” she asked Lilly as she was holding a stack of shoe boxes, which she dropped on the floor from shock.

  “We would be observing what was out there,” Vivian said as she crouched down to help her clean up the shoes from the floor while noticing the perfect black patent leather pump, wondering if it came in her size.

  “Come again?” Lilly asked.

  “We would go for brunch at Beauty’s and study the clientele. You know, what they are wearing and stuff. Technically, we are still working, and we have to write a report for what we saw for the following day for the buyers.”

  Lilly’s eyes exploded with enthusiasm, which meant yes, please! Having lunch at her favorite diner in the city was a welcome break from working eight hour shifts five days a week. Not rushing to the store meant that she could enjoy a “normal” morning while her kids got ready for school. And she could be there when they got home! And serve them milk and cookies, just like the rest of the moms of the world did! Getting to go to Beauty’s for lunch—on Sunderland’s tab? What will she order? Lilly’s mouth began to water and wondered how much smoked salon she could cram on a bagel. Did she just die and get to heaven?

  This time was a far cry from their usual routine of gobbling down their lunch and smoking a cigarette in the 20 minutes they were allocated for lunch each work day. Somebody else waited on them. Refilled their coffee cups. A delightful treat, indeed, and Lilly was more than game.

  As soon the clock struck ten, one Wednesday morning, Vivian picked up Lilly in her mother’s light pink Chevrolet, that everyone called The Powder Puff and off the two ladies went, dressed impeccably for brunch, just as if they were going to work, because they were, so to speak. The dates were a time to enjoy the food and the company, but also to conduct research and Lilly and Vivian thought that this little game was the most fun. Just as they got their food ordered, with a double order of smoked salmon for Lilly, and were sipping their coffees, they began to study the ladies who lunch.

  And if they were lucky, which they were most of the time, a few prime prospects would enter the restaurant.

  As nonchalant as they could manage, their eyes would dart back and forth, up and down to inspect what shoes, coat, blouse, sweater and shade of lipstick they were wearing. Did they like what they saw? Were the ladies wearing the garments properly and did it suit their figure and why did some women button their blouses to the top and others wore a pin? Most importantly, they wanted to know if they were wearing the fashions and cosmetics that Sunderland sold. If they weren’t sure and they liked what they saw, one of them would walk up to their table and begin the interrogation. Most of the time, the investigation was well received, and the ladies would find out what the competition was selling and head straight to their buyer on Thursday morning to share the full report. But on other days, it went something like this.

  “Viv, here comes a goodie!” Lilly said. Two women walked into the restaurant and sat down at the booth behind Vivian. “Oh, you go. I want to finish the pudding,” Lilly joked as they were demolishing Beauty’s famous rice pudding dessert, over their third cup of coffee. It was a slow day, and they didn’t see anyone worth inspecting, until their pudding was served to them after Vivian enjoyed a lunch of half a tuna and half and salmon salad sandwich, while Lilly had her usual bagel and a smoked salmon tower, which was prepared by the owner’s wife Freda.

  “No, you go—I want the pudding,” Vivian said, without turning around, as to not seem so obvious.

  “Oh alright,” Lilly said as she wiped her mouth with her napkin and then reached for her purse to fetch for her lipstick and a compact mirror. As she opened the compact, she paused and said, “Ok—the lady on the left is wearing a pair of shoes that I want myself. The heel is perfect.”

  “Oooh—I can’t wait to see! Find out all the juicy details!” Vivian said in a loud whisper while Lilly swiped on a fresh coat of lipstick.

  Vivian encouraged Lilly with a wink as she smoothed her hair with her hands and stood up to straighten her skirt. Click, clack, click went her heels as she walked over to the next booth where two ladies, who were dressed as if they were going to a dinner party sat having brunch, too.

  Without a hair out of place and makeup tastefully applied, there was an aura of confidence at this table. Approaching these ladies didn’t intimidate Lilly in the least bit, as she was used to the certain type of woman who walked into Sunderland’s.

  Vivian slowly turned around and immediately noticed that she had served one of the women before and helped her choose the rouge she was wearing. It looks great on her, she thought, felt proud and continued to watch Lilly interact with them.

  By the time Lilly stood at the front of their table, both stopped sipping their coffees to gaze up at this stranger, yet an enticing one at that. Vivian looked on, as if she was watching her favorite TV show.

  “Hello ladies. I am sorry for interrupting, and I hope you are all enjoying your lunch. I couldn’t help but notice your shoes,” Lilly said to one of the women.

  “My shoes?” the woman asked.

  “Yes. Where did you get them? I would love a pair, they are gorgeous!”

  “Paris,” the woman said, snootily.

  “Paris! Oh my. I guess I won’t be getting a pair then, as it’s a little too far from here,” Lilly giggled.

  “No. No you won’t. Especially with that nose.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Lilly questioned sternly.

  “Nothing,” the woman replied while Lilly stood there feeling distraught as she looked back at Vivian in shock. The message was read loud and clear, and Vivian got up to walk to the table for back up.

  “Oh, I know you! You work at Sunderland’s! You helped me find this fabulous rouge I’m wearing!” said the woman who sported the perfect hue on her cheeks, thanks to Vivian.

  “I thought you looked familiar! So nice to see you again,” Vivian gushed. At least that answered one of their missions, but they were far from done.

  “I’m so glad you are enjoying it, as it looks beautiful on you. Really brings out your complexion. Brightens your whole face!” Vivian warmly said.

  “Oh, thank you!” The woman replied smiling as though she was given a present she didn’t like.

  “Hey, don’t be so friendly to them,” the Paris shopper told her friend, which was followed by a silence so thick you couldn’t cut it with a bagel knife.

  “What’s wrong with being friendly? Lilly asked.

  “Nothing at all. To certain people.”

  “What do you mean, certain people?” Lilly asked with a raised voice.

  The ladies at the booth each placed a hand under their chin and stared straight ahead at Vivian and Lilly and didn’t crack a smile. Their silence spoke for them. Vivian and Lilly were distraught, and quietly walked away to pay for their bill at the cash register.

  “Why didn’t we say something better?” Lilly wined to Vivian on their way home in The Powder Puff.