Jim looked at the meat. "Where did you get this?"
"They all went to the butcher shop," said Mae. "I tried to take it
back, but the butcher says he gave it to her."
"It's a steak," said Rosy. "It'll fix your face."
Jim held the thick steak up. He could almost smell it, hear it
cooking. He went down on his knees to speak to his daughter—
fighter to fighter. "Rosy, we have to eat this."
But Rosy shouted, "No! You have to put it on your face."
Jim knew that it was useless to argue. He lay back and placed
the cool steak across his eyes. He waited a few seconds, and then
lifted one edge of the meat.
Jay turned to his mother. "Do the announcer's voice, Mom."
"Come on, Mae," said Jim with a smile. "Do the announcer."
Mae's voice became loud. "Introducing the holder of the
amateur title for light heavyweight and heavyweight. . . from
New Jersey . . . the future heavyweight champion of the world
. . . James J. Braddock."
These last words were shouted. The kids went wild, laughing
and jumping around the room. Jim took the steak from his face.
"This really worked," he told his daughter."Let's eat!"
He crossed to the stove and started cooking the meat. Soon the
sound and the delicious smell filled the apartment.
"Jim," Mae whispered. "Is it really just one fight, or are they
letting you back in?"
Jim kissed her head. "It was just the one fight."
Relief swept through Mae. As she went to the stove to get the
steak, she said silent thanks that her husband would never step
inside the ring again.
•
The early morning walk to the docks was the same as usual, but
Jim felt different. His body ached, but his steps were quicker than
they had been in months.
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