Free The House in Smyrna by Tatiana Salem Levy Page B

follow. The invitation (Let’s sit down a little?) was a way to avoid another such disaster. Hilda wasn’t especially beautiful (short, slightly hunched shoulders, long nose, crooked fingers), but she was attractive in her own way, with the charm of a woman who was quick to smile, at peace with life. And that was what drew him to her; he wanted someone cheerful by his side. He asked her how old she was, if she came to the club often, and if he could see her the following week.
    The second time they saw each other, they didn’t dance to a single song. They just talked. He asked about her family, where she was from, her father’s profession, and where they lived. The third time, again at the club, he asked if she was single. The fourth, in Lido Square, if she would like to marry him. The fifth, in Machado Square, if he could talk to his future father-in-law to ask for her hand in marriage. The sixth, at their home, Hilda hung back, watching her almost-fiancé talk to her father. The seventh, the eighth, the ninth, the tenth, and the eleventh, they talked about the wedding and the future. The twelfth time they saw each other, she drank from the wine the rabbi handed her, and he broke the glass, the noise of the splinters on the ground confirming that they would be connected for life, until death did they part.
    He and Hilda were a couple like many others. His business began to grow, with increasingly satisfactory profits, and he decided to expand the shop. He remained in the same downtown shopping district he’d been in from the start, but moved to a bigger establishment. At home, Hilda fell pregnant for the first time: they hoped for a boy to carry on the family business. He hired new employees to help in the shop, which was even busier. She suffered from morning sickness, and missed having company in the house. He worked late into the night at the shop. His ambitions were great. She felt her belly growing at a frightening pace. He barely saw her, and would arrive home with bookkeeping to do, his mind elsewhere. Her eyes teared up when she felt her baby’s feet kick for the first time. He was euphoric about the shop’s profits. She gave birth on a hot March day. He was there, heart beating wildly, when the doctor came out of the delivery room to give him the good news: it was a boy. His kingdom was guaranteed.
    By the time their second child (a girl) came along, the shop already had a branch in Copacabana, and the family had moved to a house in the now-affluent neighbourhood of Leblon — which, at the time, was madness: Leblon? But it’s so far away, so deserted … The girl came at a good time, because Hilda was aching for a companion. The daughter would keep her company as she starched collars, cooked dinner, and dusted the house. The son, in turn, was already a little king, demanding his mother’s constant attention and pampering.
    They were well-off by the time Hilda fell pregnant for the third time: another girl. He was a little disappointed at the news, while she was happy with what fate had given her, a new ally around the house. By now, the shop had another three branches in different parts of town, and no longer sold only tools, but all kinds of construction materials. This success in business ensured the family many privileges, such as an imported car, a driver, and two maids; and for the children, a bilingual school, and private piano and French lessons. The third child was born into the bosom of a family that was so successful it barely remembered the past. The suffering and hardship the father had endured before he was married were not to be mentioned. After all, what mattered now was that they were well, with good health, work, and harmony. Everything else was the past, and the past had to be silenced, left dormant among the threads of memory.
    No one was surprised when Hilda fell pregnant for the fourth time. An affluent family should proliferate. The second boy came