Brooklyn Love (Crimson Romance)

by Yael Levy

  Rachel giggled, feeling somewhat shocked. “Everyone will be majorly upset — and Suri will hate getting gypped out of a new wedding outfit. But you have to do what you have to do.”

  “I’m just a little scared. I mean what if — ”

  “What if Suri finds out about your plans? What if your aunt and uncle are offended that you disobeyed them? What if nobody supports you at all in your choice of marriage partner? What if it’s just you and your husband against the world?”

  “How’d you know?” Ilana asked, genuinely surprised.

  “Ilana, go for what’s in your heart and you’ll make it work out. Wow. If I ever had someone I truly loved and who loved me, too … ”

  “Then?”

  Rachel gazed at Jacob. “Then I’d never let him go. No matter what anybody thought or said.”

  “But how could it possibly work without everyone’s involvement? Don’t we need the support of our families — our community?”

  Rachel nodded slowly. “When it comes down to it, Ilana, who besides God is ever there for anyone, really? But to have someone to love — that’s a precious gift. Don’t let him go.”

  Ilana frowned and shook her head. “I’m not sure what to think anymore. But I hope you are right.”

  The phone rang again. Rachel heard Mrs. Zohar pick it up in the kitchen.

  Ilana grabbed Rachel’s hand. “I realize the accident left you bruised. But has it affected your sight, too, Rachel?”

  “My sight?”

  Ilana rolled her eyes, nodding toward her cousin, who was once again engrossed in his tomes of Jewish law.

  “Can’t you see, Rachel?” she whispered. “Can’t you see? Never let him go?”

  • • •

  On a warm June morning, Shayna found that she couldn’t close her zipper. Every time she tried, she felt like she was going to pop. I just bought this skirt, she thought. It fit me fine two weeks ago.

  She decided to put on a different skirt instead and stood in front of her closet searching for anything that could fit.

  She found nothing. Shayna gazed at herself in the closet mirror. It’s all his fault, she thought. I’m working too hard and Shim keeps buying those awful doughnuts.

  She stared at the reflection and couldn’t decide who that woman in the mirror was. Whoever was looking back at her certainly wasn’t the drop-dead gorgeous Shayna Goldfarb-Kaplinsky.

  She traced her hands over her stomach, her thighs. That evil scale in the bathroom insisted that she had gained thirty pounds in three months. Shayna noticed that her voluptuous curves now looked fat, but somehow she couldn’t reverse the trend. How can I lose any weight when we are always eating doughnuts and take-out specials?

  Shayna stared at herself and sighed. She had no time to take care of herself, which she constantly pointed out to Shim — she had her business to run.

  Nu, she decided. No time to feel sorry for myself. She grabbed a skirt with an elastic waist and quickly dressed. Gotta get to work now. Will lose the weight some other time.

  Shayna rushed off to Avenue J, where she and Shim ran a shop. She smiled at Shim as soon as she got there, excited that customers were already waiting on line to speak with her. “Cars R Us,” she said into the phone as Shim smiled at her, happy that his clever wife figured out how to make good money. He handed her a chocolate doughnut over the counter where he stood. She loved the chocolate ones the best — but in a pinch the jelly ones were okay, too.

  Shortly after their wedding, when their wedding gifts ran out and they had little money left, Shayna and Shim had opened up a motor vehicles office to help people with their license plates, registrations, and traffic offenses. Shayna had realized that there were no other shops like that in the neighborhood, and it was a niche they could fill. She felt happy at how her business had grown, though tense about the bills she had to pay. The rent on their apartment, rent for the shop. Gas, electric, utilities … No matter how much they brought in, there was always another bill to pay.

  She finished speaking to her customer and hung up the phone. Mmm, she thought. This doughnut is good.

  • • •

  Shimshon looked at his beautiful wife, amazed at her efficiency. He loved how she had cooked up this business idea and how pragmatic she was about getting everything done. As he stood at the counter in their shop, he drank down a container of chocolate milk that he had bought at the bagel store earlier that morning. She’s the best!

  Shimshon worked the register, delighted at how their lives progressed. When they first opened the shop, Shimshon had told his parents he was learning in the yeshiva, though he spent most of his time at their business. As his commitments to their business grew and his attendance at the yeshiva decreased, Shimshon found himself making elaborate excuses to his father as to why he wasn’t learning.

  After a while, even Shimshon got sick of the hypocrisy, and the guy voted most likely to become the Great One of the Generation — who had his Torah handed to him on a silver platter — left the yeshiva.

  “Why are you learning?” Shayna had said to him. “We need more money, and I can’t do it all myself!”

  “But how can I disappoint my father?” Shim had asked Shayna one night in bed.

  “It’s either him or me,” she’d said and turned her back to him.

  Under the influence of his wife, he’d unceremoniously said to his father, “Ta, it’s not for me anymore.” And he’d walked out of the Kaplinsky Yeshiva, never to return.

  She sure is something else! Shim thought, biting into his bagel.

  Another client entered the shop and Shim took out his clipboard to take notes and attend to him. He felt deeply satisfied at how their business had grown to servicing a steady stream of clients, but the pressures of maintaining it were taking their toll. As they lived on carryout meals, caffeinated drinks, and no exercise, they soon looked ten years older than they actually were. And before long, Shayna’s inner personality began to show on her face.

  Nobody entering their shop would ever guess that this plain woman had ever been a beauty, or that the guy behind the counter who helped them fight their parking tickets had at one time been the Prince of the Orthodox Brooklyn Jews.

  Only one person breathed freely about the end of Shimshon Kaplinsky’s potential: Shayna’s father, Reb Goldfarb, who could now take Shimshon off his payroll.

  • • •

  It took a few months of searching, but Macy got a job: an entry-level advertising position at fifteen dollars an hour. They would train him in computer graphics, and the possibilities seemed endless. Offer letter in hand, he signed a lease on his own apartment, the one where he would live with Ilana. With both of them working, they really could afford to get married.

  Excited, Macy drove to Brooklyn College to meet Ilana between classes. It was the last day of the semester and she spotted him just as she exited her class.

  “I got it!” he shouted, jumping on the great green lawn in the midst of the old gothic classroom buildings.

  “That’s amazing!” Ilana shielded her eyes from the sun and smiled as Macy took her books to carry.

  “So we’re getting married,” he whispered close to her ear. How he longed to hug her!

  Ilana furrowed her brows. “But everyone is against it. Nobody will make us a wedding, and nobody will come.”

  “Tonight,” he said.

  Ilana laughed. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “I mean it. I’m going to find a rabbi who will marry us. He’ll get two witnesses to make it a kosher marriage and he’ll tell us what we’re supposed to do. We love each other. I have a job. Why should we wait?”

  “But don’t we need a quorum for blessings?”

  Macy shrugged. “We’ll do that tomorrow night, and the whole week after if you want. But let’s get married to
night!”

  Students walked by on the way to class as Ilana’s face reddened. “Macy, I have to go to the ritual bath before the wedding.”

  “So I’ll drop you off at the mikveh before we go see the rabbi.”

  “My aunt and uncle will have a cow,” Ilana giggled.

  “Don’t tell them. Just meet me at our place — the landmark house where those Hessian soldiers slept — on East 22nd Street.”

  She nodded. They’d strolled past that old farmhouse dozens of times on Shabbos walks; she knew the landmark well. “This is wild,” she said. “But don’t you think some of our family would want to be involved in our wedding?”

  Macy grinned. “We’ll have a week of partying with everybody afterward. I just don’t want to complicate things. As the rabbis say, ‘If not now, then when?’”

  Ilana laughed, caught up in his enthusiasm. “Call me if anything comes up. Otherwise, I’ll meet you at our place at eight!”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Abe Shine opened the door to his office and waved hello to Michael Kaufman, who sat at his desk in the office across the hall.

  “Good vacation?” Michael asked.

  Abe nodded.

  “That was a scare with Rachel. Is she all right?”

  “She’s recuperating nicely — thanks to the Zohars. I think Debby is in worse shape than Rachel over this — but they’ll both heal.”

  Michael laughed. “That Jacob is a solid guy. I hope they get together.”

  Abe sat down at his desk and checked his e-mail. “Time to put family matters aside and get back to work,” he said, and rifled through the one hundred-plus messages that had filled his inbox during his short time away.

  After taking care of a few clients, Abe looked up from his desk. A haze of Michael’s cigarette smoke enveloped the offices. Coughing, Abe stood up to open a window.

  Abe stood by the window inhaling a deep breath of car exhaust. He turned his head to see Michael stub out his cigarette and simultaneously bite his nails. “What’s eating you, Michael?” he said, but Michael didn’t hear him.

  Instead, Abe heard the office buzzer ring, and opened the door to two heavyset men in suits, brandishing badges and legal documents.

  “This is Agent Thompson. I’m Agent Jackson of the FBI. We are here for the arrest of Michael Kaufman, Esquire, on charges related to illegal money laundering.” The agents proceeded to read Michael the Miranda Act. “You have the right to remain silent … ”

  Michael quietly stood up to go with the men. “Tell Suri I love her,” he whispered to Abe.

  Abe stared at his partner. “Why’d you do it, Michael?” he asked.

  “I have weddings to plan — a life to pay for, Abe. That’s all,” he said, and stubbed out his cigarette.

  • • •

  When Jacob arrived at the yeshiva in the morning, he was surprised to find it closed, with police officers guarding the entrances.

  A crowd of gawkers buzzed with anxious chatter as reporters from The Post, The News, and The Times circled about like vultures to the dead.

  “What’s going on?” he asked an onlooker who was craning his neck to grab a view of the sidewalk nearest the front doors.

  “Haven’t you heard?” the man said. “They’ve arrested Rabbi Kaplinsky!”

  • • •

  Suri got the late edition of The Jewish Press, and it was all there in black and white for the whole world to see:

  The Monevitcher Kaplinsky Yeshiva is under investigation by the FBI for its role in the laundering of Colombian drug money.

  “I know nothing about this,” stated Rabbi Solomon Kaplinsky, spiritual director of the yeshiva. The rabbi claims his role in the yeshiva is teaching and advising, and that he is not directly involved in the finances of the school and religious center.

  Mr. Shalom Israel and Theodore Weiss, both financial officers on the Board of Directors for the yeshiva, have also been indicted, pending investigation.

  Evidence points to a key player in the scandal: Mr. Harold Green of Green’s Imports and Exports, a coffee company located in Manhattan that does a heavy volume of trading in Colombia. Mr. Green has been placed under arrest. At press time, he had no comments. Unnamed sources report that Green laundered the drug money through the yeshiva in the form of false donations. A number of his aides have also been implicated as accomplices in the crime.

  Also under arrest is Michael Kaufman, Esquire, who served as legal counsel both to Mr. Green and the yeshiva. While his exact role in the scheme is as yet unclear, sources say it may have been Kaufman who facilitated the arrangement between Green and the yeshiva.

  Suri threw the paper down. She had survived post-Hitler Hungary; she’d survived immigrating to a new country. She’d survived raising three boys who no longer wanted to obey her. She was tired of surviving hardships and difficulties. She didn’t know how much more she had left in her.

  “Michael!” she cried, “how could you have done this to me? How could you have gotten caught?”

  • • •

  Macy bounded into the house, his mind racing with his elopement plans. He needed to find a rabbi who would marry him and Ilana that very night.

  “Hey, Ma, what’s up?” he said, uninterested in her answer. He had phone calls to make.

  Suri didn’t move from the couch. “Macy, come look at this,” she said, handing him the newspaper.

  Macy grabbed the paper and read the news. Then he read it again.

  “Where is Tatty now?” he asked, sobering instantly.

  “They are holding him in jail for questioning. Yossie is on his way there.” She had no expression left in her voice. “Take me to that place, to see your father.”

  “All right. I just have to call Ilana,” Macy said.

  “Now? You need to call that Israeli girl at a time like this? I can’t believe you are even seeing that girl! What will it take to make you understand that she is not good enough for our family?”

  “Her father isn’t in jail.”

  Suri stood and slapped him across his face.

  Without a word, Macy grabbed the car keys and drove his mother to see his father in jail.

  • • •

  Ilana jumped out of the shower, quickly towel-dried her hair, and donned a cream cotton sweater and skirt. My wedding gown, she thought, checking her appearance in her mirror. She would have liked to put on some makeup for this occasion, but she’d be going to the mikveh, where she would have to dunk in the warm pool au natural.

  She went to her closet to find her robe and also chose a pink beret that she would wear once the rabbi married them. I can’t believe I’m doing this! she thought. It was the craziest thing she had ever done. But then again, everything about being with Macy was exciting! Left to her own devices, she’d be happy baking, singing, or hanging out with friends. Macy was so active all the time — she’d need a special Macy calendar just to keep up with him!

  She stuffed her toiletries into her small green knapsack. I love him, she thought, and that’s all that matters.

  She ran down the stairs and outside, nearly forgetting to lock the door. Tonight Macy would be coming for her, and after the rabbi married them, they would spend the night together in their new apartment. Leave it to Macy to figure it all out! she thought. Her husband-to-be had managed to secure one of the few rent-controlled apartments left in Manhattan. True, the apartment could use some work — actually a lot of work — but Ilana was sure she would get it in shape once they settled in.

  She walked briskly to the landmark, an old wooden house surrounded by grass that harkened back to the times when Brooklyn was farmland and a Hessian soldier had scratched his initials into a window during the Revolutionary War. Everything changes, Ilana thought, checking her watch. It was eight o’clock; Macy would be ar
riving any moment.

  She felt all giddy, conspiring to get married. It was so out of character for her to do something so impulsive — but it was so adventurous!

  And then, at the landmark, she waited.

  It started raining and Ilana got wet, but still she waited for her Macy to come.

  She saw city buses drive by, packed with harried commuters. Others walked tiredly back from the subway, dressed in business attire and sneakers, carrying briefcases that held the remnants of their lunches and their work shoes.

  But she didn’t see Macy.

  “Hey, what are you doing in the rain?” A woman called out from her passing car. She recognized her; it was Hindy’s younger sister.

  “I’m waiting for someone.” Ilana tried to appear nonchalant, but the rain had already matted her hair and now was pelting her hard all over.

  “You’re Ilana, right? Come on, don’t be stupid — get in the car. You shouldn’t wait outside in weather like this.” Shayna parked the car and opened the door to the passenger seat. “I have to pick my husband up from the train station. I have a few minutes.”

  Ilana hesitated and then looked around the corner for Macy. Seeing nobody, she sidled into the front seat of Shayna’s pre-owned Lexus.

  Shayna turned off the radio, which had been blaring. “So who is worth waiting for in the rain?” she asked in a breathless voice.

  Ilana debated whether to share with Shayna that she had a relationship with Macy. He had sworn her to secrecy — but then their marriage would be common knowledge tomorrow morning. “You know Macy Kaufman?”

  Shayna let out a high-pitched laugh. “Do I know Macy Kaufman? I dated him — once. You’re going out with Macy Kaufman? Oh, that’s a good one!”

  “Why?”

  Shayna sucked in her lips. “Never mind. It’s just that — ”

  “Yes?”

  “I just don’t see the two of you together. You are so different!”

  “True. He’s so spirited and exciting — ”

  “Sure — if you mean irresponsible and immature.”

  Ilana continued. “He’s so talented and has so many interests — ”