by Suri Rosen
“Oh,” I said in a quivering voice.
“Obviously this is important to you and maybe this is something that Uncle Mordechai wanted taken care of before he was buried. Give me your phone and email address. If I find anything I’ll mail —”
“No. Could you read it?”
“That urgent?” he said. “Fine. If you don’t mind me looking. How about this, I’ll read it to you and then mail it. Is that okay?”
“Thank you,” I sobbed.
“Rain,” Aunt Mira was yelling. “If you can’t go just tell me but this is just plain rude. We have to go now.”
“I have to go now,” I whispered. “Can I ask your name?”
“Simon,” he said. “I’ll try to call you soon.”
I wiped my eyes, opened the bathroom door, and descended the stairs behind her. Bubby had my coat in her hands and handed it to me. We walked into the biting winter night and I slipped into the seat next to Bubby with Leah following me. I put my phone on vibrate and held it, so I could answer immediately if Simon called.
Aunt Mira and Uncle Eli were chattering about how nice it was for one of the board members of Moriah to host the gathering tonight.
When we entered the house I gasped at the scene. The entire main floor was filled with people. The small l’chaim for five guests had turned into an engagement party worthy of Tamara and Jeremy. There had to be over a hundred people crammed into the main floor. Even though it was a mile away from the Bernsteins’ house, it was the same model. The dining room table was covered with platters of bagels, lox, and cheeses, as well as pastries and fruit.
It was impossible to get through the crush of people so I took a shortcut through the kitchen. A familiar face was there playing with two small children. He was tall — over six feet — with brown hair, brown eyes, and olive skin. He was twentysomething and wore black dress pants and a white button-down shirt.
“Ari! Again!” A little boy stretched his arms up to the tall man. “Again!”
Ari scooped up the boy and tossed him in the air with a laugh. I stood transfixed. I had seen him somewhere before.
“Me too, Ari!”
Ari gently put down the boy and picked up the tiny girl and raised her in the air. Both children squealed with delight.
“Ari,” someone called out. “Zayda is going to speak now!”
Professor K.’s grandson! I had seen his photograph many times in Professor K.’s living room as well as in the photo album. Ari straightened himself up and patted the boy on the shoulder. “If there’s time, I’ll read you a story later,” Ari said.
The front door slammed with yet more guests arriving. It was starting to feel like the Number 7 bus in here.
“Rain!” It was Aunt Mira. “Professor Kellman is waiting for you.” Ari smiled at me.
I entered the living room and worked my way next to Bubby. I glanced back at the kitchen to see if I could check out Ari some more and noted Dahlia stood at the entrance, waving at me. Finally, she was better! I swiped a brownie off the table and held it up to Dahlia. We exchanged an understanding glance. The brownie was useless — it was baked, for heaven’s sake.
Professor K. was speaking now. For just one minute I was going to try to enjoy their happiness. “I am so thrilled,” he said. “I never dreamt I’d find this kind of happiness at this stage of my life.”
Mira, who stood next to me, gave me a hug. “It’s so wonderful, isn’t it?”
“Esther Levine is my dream girl,” Professor K. said, as he gazed lovingly at her. “Sometimes it’s worth it to wait a long time for your soul mate.”
I glanced around the table. The last thing Leah needed was to hear a seventy-five-year-old celebrate that he finally met his soul mate. She stood at the edge of the table with a bagel on her plate, but didn’t seem to be reacting at all.
I took a bite out of the brownie as Professor K. continued his speech. “And it never, ever would have happened without the efforts of a very special person.”
I stopped chewing.
“And I need to express gratitude to that wonderful person.”
My heart hammered inside me. Was he about to thank me, or the anonymous email account?
“Matchmaven!” he practically shouted.
So that was it. I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Let’s all raise our glasses to Matchmaven,” he said.
I could feel beads of sweat form on my forehead as everyone shouted “l’chaim!” How long does it take to thank someone anonymous? Couldn’t he start praising his bride already?
Professor K. smiled at Mrs. Levine. “Here’s to our good luck.”
It looked like he was moving on.
“That wasn’t just luck,” an indignant Bubby said in a booming voice. “It was plenty hard work.” An uncomfortable silence filled the air. Bubby apparently had decided to take over the engagement party. Leah was visibly cringing now. Where was Bubby going with this anyway? A queasy feeling sloshed inside my stomach.
“Bubby,” I whispered. “Let’s just let Professor Kellman give his speech.”
“What do you mean, Ma?” Uncle Eli said.
“Bubby, you’re interrupting,” I hissed at Bubby.
“Raina,” Professor K. said. “Let’s hear what Mrs. Bernstein has to say.”
“So who exactly is this Matchmaven, Bayla?” a familiar voice yelled out. “You sound like you know!”
I froze.
“Never mind,” Bubby said, sniffing.
Mrs. Feldman wagged her finger at Bubby. “You have to be an expert on everything, Bayla.”
“Look who’s talking, Sylvia.” Bubby snorted.
I couldn’t believe it. They were actually going to have a fight in the middle of the engagement party.
I glanced at Uncle Eli whose eyebrows were drawn together. Mira had a look of terror on her face. You’d think that when you lived with Bubby you’d be used to it, but apparently you had to be constantly vigilant about avoiding a scene.
“Okay, Bayla, big talker,” Mrs. Feldman said. “Tell us who it is.”
I dropped my eyes to my hand; it was clenched so tightly, that the brownie was all crumbs now. A hush settled on the crowd, and all eyes rested on Bubby.
“If you knew who it was, you’d stop pretending that you knew and would just say who it is,” Mrs. Feldman said.
The logic escaped me, but it was Bubby that I was terrified about. They were goading her to give up the goods.
“I’ll just say that she’s very young and very caring.” Bubby turned to me and smiled sweetly.
My entire body began to tremble.
“What are you saying, Ma?” Mira’s face was wound tight like a coil.
“Never mind,” Bubby said. “Leah, pass me some chocolate, why don’t you. Those deviled eggs look delicious too.”
I could have kissed Bubby. The danger was over, right? Through the side of my eye, Leah looked like she was about to cry.
“Ma?” Eli said. Leah’s eyes were bulging out of her head now.
Over at the entrance to the kitchen, Dahlia had a look of panic on her face.
I bit my lip and willed Bubby to keep her mouth closed. But the limelight was too irresistible. I grabbed Bubby’s arm and whispered, “Bubby, please.”
“Don’t be rude, Raina,” Mrs. Feldman said. “Let her speak.”
I swallowed.
“Fine,” Bubby said. “Why can’t we give thanks where it’s due.” She turned to me and took my hand. “Mira, you give her such a hard time but you should be proud of this girl. She does nothing but devote her life to helping other people. She spends every single waking minute trying to bring happiness to all kinds of people. Why can’t you see how special she is?”
“What are you saying, Mrs. Bernstein?” Mrs. Levine said, her face tight.
“You wa
nt to know what I’m saying?” Bubby said. “I’m saying, that our own Raina Resnick is Matchmaven.”
First there was silence.
Then a loud smashing sound broke the quiet as Leah’s plate fell out of her hands and clattered to the floor. The room started spinning. Air sucked out of my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. Finally someone spoke. “What are you talking about?” Mrs. Feldman said with a snort. “Raina is a child.”
“Raina?” Mira said, her eyes wide with shock. “Of course this isn’t true, right?”
A jumble of disbelieving comments volleyed through the air.
Leah’s face was frozen. I felt like I was going to pass out.
At that moment there was only one place I wanted to be.
Hong Kong.
Seriously. I wanted to be far away from Leah, and Mira, and Mrs. Levine, and all the disappointment they were feeling now — and Hong Kong never looked as delectably appealing as it did right now.
“Rain?” Professor K. said, as he peered at me intently. “Are you really Matchmaven?”
I gulped. The room was so silent you could feel the hum of the refrigerator.
I took a deep breath.
“Yes. It’s true,” I said weakly. “I’m Matchmaven.”
Mrs. Levine gasped and her eyes watered.
Professor K. clapped his hands together and laughed. “That’s wonderful! You come up here, young lady,” he said.
I shook my head and backed away. “No, no, no.”
“Come on, Rain. I insist. Don’t be so modest.”
Leah’s eyes were two cluster bombs of shock now.
“Come on, Rain,” Professor K. said. “Everyone wants you to say a few words.” I was the focal point of the room. I inched toward him. Mrs. Levine’s gaze dropped to the floor, unable to meet my eyes.
Safe within his matrimonial bubble, Professor K. was completely oblivious to the disbelief that circulated the room.
“I’m delighted that it’s you, Raina.” Professor K. addressed the gathering. “This girl is a bright, caring, and special young lady and Esther and I owe her a huge debt of gratitude. Come on now, Raina.”
He turned his eyes on me and waited. I stumbled up to Professor K. and stood between him and Mrs. Levine. Mrs. Levine was desperately trying to smile, but her eyes were wide with shock. Was that shame I read on her cheeks? Anger? Meanwhile, Leah was turning varying shades of red. I gulped and took a deep breath.
“I just wanted to say mazel tov to Professor Kellman and Mrs. Levine. When I see the two of you I feel that you were meant to be together. And … if I hadn’t done it, someone else would. So I wish you the best of luck for a lifetime of joy.” I shrugged and turned to flee the room.
“But Rain, how on earth did this happen?” Uncle Eli said.
“We want to hear!” It was Mrs. Feldman.
Leah shook her head at me. Her face was a kaleidoscope of shock, hurt, and anger. She looked like she couldn’t breathe properly.
“Come on, everyone’s waiting,” Professor K. said. Then he leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Have you met my grandson? Maybe you have a girl for him?”
He clapped his hands. “Okay, everyone. Our matchmaker will now speak.”
I took a deep breath and started talking. At this point there was nothing more to lose.
“I became a matchmaker accidentally, and against my will.” That was met with a lot of raised eyebrows.
“It all started on the bus to school in a strange city where I didn’t know anybody. I met this sweet woman who begged me to fix her up. I’m sixteen years old. What do I know about matchmaking? I only knew one eligible man in the city and this woman was so desperate for a husband, and I was so desperate for a friend. So I fixed them up.”
My eyes pleaded with Leah now, because she was the one I was talking to. Her face remained motionless.
“I didn’t know that he was supposed to go out with my sister. I was so scared when I found out that I couldn’t tell anybody.
“The match worked out, and she raved to a friend. Word spread and I was soon inundated with matchmaking requests by people who had just given up. Given up on matchmakers. Given up on meeting people on their own. Given up on online dating. People who had resigned themselves to a life of loneliness.” I sighed.
The guests were silent again. Please Leah, don’t hate me.
“I was going to send out emails explaining that this was all a mistake. I’m no matchmaker. But then I got an email from my sister.
“I so badly wanted to help her so I did a practice match with others before attempting to fix her up. But when it didn’t work out, they each asked me to find someone else for them. It kept growing and multiplying. And the more I realized how much pain these people were feeling, the more difficult it became to turn them away. It takes so much time to make a match, and to talk to people, and listen to their concerns. And sometimes you’re pleading with some single to give another person a second chance and other times you’re practically cutting a deal to get them to go on another date. But you’re always sharing their sadness and frustration with them. In the end though? I did it for one reason. For my sister, Leah. I tried so hard. I know that I didn’t succeed for Leah but everything I did was for her.”
I looked at Leah; my gaze was loaded with pleading and regret.
“Professor K. is my friend,” I said turning to Mrs. Levine. Her arms were crossed and she was doing a heroic attempt at a smile.
“I didn’t know who Esther was. She never gave me a last name, but she was so kind and intelligent. I loved our emails. I felt like she could understand things that nobody else could.”
Her face relaxed and she nodded slightly.
“The matches literally took up all my time. Sometimes our perceptions of people can be so distorted, you know? I was like so many people I fix up and couldn’t get past the stupid image thing,” I said, thinking of how I used to perceive Mr. Sacks. How I used to perceive everyone, really.
I hadn’t intended on talking about Esther but once I got going it was impossible to stop. My story just spilled out of me. It felt amazing. I hadn’t even ever told Dahlia the whole thing. It was a Mrs. Marmor moment. Or hour. I suddenly understood why people went on Oprah and completely exposed themselves. It just felt so darned good.
“I started tanking at school because of it. All my spare time was devoted to making matches. How could I turn away? They needed me. But with Esther and Professor K. — it seemed like a natural match,” I said. “I’ve done some not-so-nice things in the past. So maybe I deserve to have a lot of people upset with me. But their happiness is all that matters. Thank you.”
The room was silent. No one seemed to know what to do next.
Mrs. Levine observed me. “Rain,” she finally said. I braced myself. This was the moment I had feared more than anything else.
“Please, please forgive me,” I babbled. “I promise you I didn’t know it was you. I just wanted to help. All I knew is that I loved your emails and I knew that you and Professor K. would be soul mates.”
“Rain,” she said quietly. “Give me a hug.” Mrs. Levine leaned over and wrapped me in her arms and the room erupted in applause. “Thank you, darling,” she whispered in my ear.
Mrs. Levine released me as Bubby and Mira appeared next to her.
“I’m so sorry, Aunt Mira.”
Mira shook her head. “Rain, this whole thing is crazy. I can’t believe I didn’t know this was going on the whole time.”
Bubby was smirking. “What’s the matter with you?”
“How did you know, Bubby?” I said.
“You think I’d ever sleep through an episode of Mod Squad?” Bubby said. “Do you see what Linc looked like? Of course I knew what she was doing on the computer every night.”
I shook my head, but a tiny twinge prickled me. “But Bubby, why
did you out me?”
“Because I couldn’t stand it anymore,” she said. “It was making me crazy already. Everyone blamed you all the time when they should have been thanking you.”
“But we didn’t know,” Mira said.
“It’s true,” Mrs. Levine said. “I’m so sorry that you had the weight of this on your own.”
Bubby was not about to let anyone off the hook. “This girl devoted every spare minute to helping other people,” she said in an accusing voice. “And all she got was blame, Mira.”
Mira’s face fell. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there for you,” she said.
“But I was there for her,” Bubby said, throwing her arm around my shoulder.
Mira looked at both of us. “You two are cut from the same cloth.”
“Well, speaking of cloth, I ordered two Red Sox sweaters for us,” Bubby said to me. “And this summer when the Sox come to Toronto I’m taking you to a ball game.”
“I’m in!”
Bubby leaned over and whispered into my ear. “And we’re going to get hot dogs. Lots of hot dogs.”
Dahlia was shaking her head in disbelief at the entrance to the kitchen.
I tripped out of the dining room and into the kitchen where Dahlia now stood next to the kitchen counter, her iPad open in front of her. “This is the craziest night of my life. I cannot believe Esther was Mrs. Levine.”
“Is that wild?” I said.
She laughed. “You must have had your heart attack already, because I’m still having mine now.”
“Rain.” It was Leah standing next to me. Her eyes glistened.
Dahlia returned to her iPad.
“Leah, I’m so sorry,” I said. “I … just wanted to fix things. I wanted to find you a husband. I wanted you to not hate me anymore. I love you so much.”
“Rain,” she said softly. “It’s okay.”
“Really?”
“Really.” She opened her arms and I flew into them. We hugged each other, rocking back and forth.
“I missed you so much,” I said.
“Me too,” Leah said. “Now I know why I liked Matchmaven so much!”
Dahlia gasped. “I don’t believe this,” she said. “You guys better look at this.”
