The Kiddush Ladies

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The Kiddush Ladies Page 22

by Susan Sofayov


  “I realize that I want to be a Jew and accept all of the laws. Noah’s God is my God.”

  Becky sat smiling. All of Maria’s words after “I’m going to become a Jew,” sort of blended together in her ears. She inhaled deeply, enjoying a sensation of physical lightness, while controlling the urge to jump up and down. “Those are the words I’ve prayed for. All I ever wanted was to hear you say that you would convert. Honestly, I didn’t care how you did it or what you felt. You could’ve faked everything for the rabbi, if it meant my grandchildren would be Jewish. This news is more than I prayed for--you’ll be a real Jew.”

  Becky rose from the stool and began walking around the island. Again, Maria motioned her to back to the chair. “Wait, Mrs. Rosen, there’s more.”

  Becky froze in her spot. She didn’t want to sit down. She wanted to jump with joy. What else could there possibly be to say? The problem had been solved. Then it hit Becky, the wedding. Maria realized it wouldn’t be a real wedding. “I think I know what you’re going to say. Scheduling this civil wedding was a mistake. You want to wait until after the conversion to get married properly.”

  Maria shook her head. “No. That’s not even close to what I want to say.”

  Becky sat back down.

  “You decided not to like me before we met. But Noah thought that once you got to know me, you’d warm up to me. Obviously, that didn’t happen. I’ve spent many nights crying and wondering why you hate me. I get the Jewish part, but your animosity seems to go beyond that. Your--I don’t want to say hatred but serious dislike--even encompasses my family.”

  Becky poo-pooed her, flicking her wrists. “That’s over now. You’re going to be Jewish.”

  Maria fixed her gaze on Becky, a frozen stare. Becky shuddered as a chill zapped through her. “I’m not okay with that,” Maria said. “I’m the same person you disliked at Rosh Hashanah dinner. Jewish or Catholic, I’ll still be me.”

  “I don’t understand,” Becky said.

  “I’d never stand between you and Noah, but I don’t want to come here and watch you put on an act, pretending you like me once I’m Jewish. We both love Noah, and to move forward, I think we need to be honest with each other, so I’m going to say it. You don’t like me and I don’t like you so much either.”

  Tears flooded Becky’s eyes and streamed down her cheeks. She popped up from the stool and sprinted around the island. “You’re wrong.” She yanked Maria into her arms. “You’re so wrong. From the very first day, I saw what Noah saw in you. You’re exactly the woman I would have picked for him. I told all of my friends, I just wanted a Jewish Maria.”

  “What’s all the yelling about in here?” David stood in the threshold of the kitchen but it didn’t appear that he wanted to cross over it.

  Becky ran into his arms. “She’s converting! She’s going to do it.” She let go of him and turned back to Maria. “Get a bottle of champagne!”

  “It’s breakfast. This is wonderful news, but ladies, you both have a long day in front of you.”

  “We’ll pour it in orange juice. Get it.” Becky sat on the stool beside Maria, gripping the young woman’s hands in her own. “I understand that you think I’m the wicked witch, but I swear to you, nothing I’ve ever said or done has been personal. You’re wonderful. And your parents are very nice people. I promise I’ll never be mean to you again. I love that you’re going to be Jewish, but you’re also a fabulous young woman.”

  David popped the champagne. Becky ran to the dining room and returned carrying flutes. “Here we go,” Her voice sounded shrill as she brandished the glasses.

  David poured. Maria sat quietly. Becky babbled. “And after you convert, we’re going to have a real wedding. I’ll invite everyone in town.”

  Maria extended her arm and grasped the flute. “I’m having a real wedding in nine hours.”

  “Whatever,” Becky replied, lifting her glass. “L’chaim to the marriage of Noah and Maria and to my future grandchildren.” She gulped down the champagne and set it on the marble countertop. “I think, after you convert, we should begin calling you by your new Hebrew name. Maria doesn’t work for nice Jewish mother.”

  ***

  Naomi

  Thursday morning--wedding day, Naomi smashed the pillow into her face. “Shit,” she groaned, pulled herself out of bed, and began the mundane task of making her bed. She stopped mid-fold and growled at the undisturbed pillow on the side of the bed Aaron recently adopted. Hand on hip, she stared at the pillow, imaging what it would feel like to rip the feathers out and fling them around the room. She pounded it instead. Damn memory foam.

  She moved in slow motion, dreading the day. By seven forty-five, she finished dressing, dumped her remaining coffee into a to-go cup, and set out for the bus stop, fifteen minutes behind schedule. Finally, the weather got the message that spring was approaching. The air held a chill, but the sun felt warm on her face, as she trotted down Beverly Road.

  She planned to work until noon and then go to the nail salon--a huge splurge, but her chewed up finger nails didn’t match the dress Miriam gave her.

  The bus arrived and Naomi ascended the steps. As she climbed, her phone vibrated in her bag. She pulled it out and tried to read Aaron’s text while navigating her way through the standing-room only bus.

  Love the story, I didn’t expect the revenge theme, but it’s good. I knew you still had it. I’m going to send it to my friend at Woman’s Way magazine. See you in a few hours.

  She hit the delete button and grabbed onto the bar over her head.

  ***

  Miriam

  Miriam sat in the family room, curled in her favorite chair and covered with a blanket. She gazed out the huge windows, watching a few squirrels running through the backyard. Normally, this was her favorite time of year, early spring--Passover. Each year, she held the second Seder at her house, stuffing her dining room with as many people as could fit.

  For her, Passover embodied Judaism, and she loved sharing it. Most of her friends spent the first night with family, so she created the tradition of holding the second night to guarantee their attendance. Passover loomed three weeks away, and so far she only extended an invitation to Naomi.

  The holiday without both of her best friends being together was unbearable.

  The sound of footsteps pulled her from her reverie. “Miriam, I’m going to the office for a few hours. Does the wedding start at 6:30 or 7:00?” Joe asked.

  “Hors d’oeuvres begin at 6:30 and the ceremony at 7:30.”

  “Shouldn’t you be getting your hair done or your nails?”

  Miriam raised her eyebrows.

  “No, I didn’t mean it that way.” Joe chuckled and walked to his wife.

  “You know I’m not going.”

  “Bullshit to that. You’re going.”

  Miriam searched for the words to explain her reasoning. It was more than the fear of Becky making a scene. It was the memories, Noah’s birth, his Bar Mitzvah, the time she sat in the hospital waiting room with Becky and Naomi while the doctor operated on Noah’s almost exploded appendix. If she attended tonight, she would be there physically, but her soul and Becky’s soul would be far apart. The thought of that distance created waves of nausea in her stomach.

  The doorbell rang, and Joe left to answer it. Relief wafted through her. She didn’t want to talk about the wedding. Maybe she would go alone to a movie tonight--a sad one where she wouldn’t look like a nut for crying.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Weiss.” Maria glided through the doorway toward Miriam. The young woman approached her with opened her arms. Miriam rose from her chair, letting the blanket fall to the floor, and responded to the hug. Maria stepped out of the embrace and smiled as she sat on the love seat across from Miriam’s overstuffed chair. “I just left Noah’s parents’ house. Before I drove back to Squirrel Hill, I wanted to stop by to make sure that you’re coming tonight.”

  Miriam turned her head toward the window. The squirrels were gone.


  “Mrs. Weiss, you are coming to our wedding, right?”

  Miriam’s eyes remained focused on the backyard, but she did manage to shake her head. If she spoke the words, she feared breaking down in front of this sweet young woman.

  “Please, look at me. You have to come.”

  Miriam garnered the strength to look Maria in the eyes. “She said if I attend the wedding, she’ll leave.”

  Maria shook her head. “Believe me, after what I just told her, she isn’t going to leave the wedding. She’s the happiest woman on the planet right now.”

  Miriam shot a questioning look at Maria, which elicited a small laugh from her. Not a happy laugh, but a you-are-not-going-to-believe-this laugh. “I told her that I’m converting.”

  Miriam clapped her hands together. “That’s wonderful! Now Becky will be happy.”

  “Oh, she’s happy. She’ll be in such a great mood tonight. She’ll forget why she’s even mad at you. I bet she greets you with open arms.” She eyed Miriam expectantly. “Really, Mrs. Weiss, I’m sure that nothing will happen at the wedding. I expect to see you there--on time. Don’t try to slink in unseen. I expect you to be in the front row next to Mr. Weiss, Mrs. Feldman, Ezra, and Mr. Brenner.”

  Miriam’s heart fluttered. Today was going to be wonderful--Noah marrying this beautiful girl and Becky ending her stupid feud.

  “I will be there.”

  The two women said their goodbyes and Maria rushed to the car. Miriam dialed the nail salon, and then called her hairdresser and begged for an emergency appointment.

  The night was going to be a dream.

  ***

  Becky

  Becky eyed herself in the full-length mirror. Tammy, her hairdresser, had dyed the gray hair, put in a few extensions, and pulled her hair into a stylish up-do. Surprisingly, it didn’t make her look old. As Becky precisely applied her make-up, she regretted not buying an evening gown. What was she thinking, buying a black evening suit? It looked so dire and dowdy. Her closet held four or five elegant gowns, but all of her friends were with her when she wore those dresses. Besides, it just felt wrong to wear a recycled dress to her son’s wedding, but the suit didn’t look chic. It looked frumpy.

  She twisted around to get a look at the back of the jacket. Ridiculous. The outfit was appropriate for only thing--a funeral. The hell with it. She reached her hands behind her waist and pulled down the zipper. She was not going to appear at the wedding wearing this gothic rag. Whether she liked it or not, recycling was necessary. Maybe she could return the suit next week.

  When she entered the kitchen, she watched David’s eyes light up. “Now that’s a party dress.” He walked to her and scooped her into his arms. “You look beautiful.”

  Becky giggled. “You’re wrinkling me.”

  He released the squeeze, sliding one arm down her back and clasping her hand with the other. Then he began swaying her side to side. Within moments, they glided around the kitchen dancing to an imaginary orchestra. “I’m so happy that the world righted itself, and I have my wife back,” he whispered into her ear. “I missed her.” He stepped back and twirled Becky under his arm.

  She smiled as she moved back into his arms. “By the time we go to bed tonight, our baby will be a married man.”

  David smiled.

  “I hope they wait until she converts to have babies.”

  He stopped and locked his knees. “Becky.” He leaned back and raised his eyebrows into a stern expression. “Enough.”

  “What’s so wrong with me wanting them to wait? If they do it before she’s finished, the baby will also need to be converted--too complicated.”

  “Let’s just enjoy the wedding.” He twirled her one more time before releasing her hands.

  “You’re right. Let’s celebrate.” She twirled around and headed for the coat closet. “It’s time to go.”

  ***

  Naomi

  Naomi’s phone rang at 3:30. She didn’t need to look at the screen to know it was Aaron. He said he’d call at 3:30, and he was on time, as usual. She ignored the ring. It rang again, at 3:45. This time, she answered it.

  “Hi,” Aaron said. “I called a few minutes ago, but you were probably in the shower.”

  “Yes,” she lied.

  “Should I pick you and Ezra up at 6:00 or would you prefer to get there earlier?” he asked.

  “No, why should you drive all the way out to Mt. Lebanon only to turn around and drive back downtown? I’ll either drive or we’ll ride with Miriam.”

  “What? I want to pick you up. I can’t wait to see you.”

  Naomi could hear the disappointment in his voice. As much as she wanted to believe him, the picture she printed off the website showed otherwise. It now hung on the refrigerator door to remind her of the truth. “No, I’ll see you at the wedding.”

  ***

  Miriam

  Miriam wiggled into the slinky fabric of her new gown. It felt cool and soft against her skin. As she slipped on her pumps, she rehearsed the words she planned to say to Becky. First, she would wish Becky and David a huge mazel tov on the wonderful news of Maria’s conversion. Then she would quickly shift the conversation by offering a sincere apology about the affair. She still had no idea why she was apologizing, but it didn’t matter as long as Becky forgave her, and life returned to normal.

  She lined her lips and filled them in with a deep mauve. As she began stroking on her mascara, the doorbell rang. She knew it would be Naomi and Ezra. Naomi called at four o’clock, asking for a ride. Miriam was grateful for the request.

  Now she and Joe wouldn’t be walking into the William Penn Hotel alone. It would be much less awkward to arrive as a group. She put the mascara wand back into the tube and shoved it into the drawer. “Joe,” she yelled, “answer the door.”

  At the bottom of the stairs, Naomi and Ezra stood waiting. Miriam did a double take at Ezra. Standing next to his mother, dressed in a new black suit and white shirt, he looked exactly like his father, who Miriam secretly thought was the most handsome man on Earth.

  “You look wonderful,” Naomi said.

  When Miriam reached the bottom of the steps, she hugged her friend. “You do too, and--” She turned to face Ezra. “--you look like a GQ model in that suit.”

  Ezra’s face flushed. He thrust his hands into his pockets and stared down at the floor. His embarrassment didn’t stop Miriam from gushing.

  “You’re so tall now. I bet the girls at school follow you everywhere.”

  “Ezra,” Joe shouted from the kitchen. “I need some help.”

  Miriam and Naomi watched Ezra stride into the kitchen.

  “Sounded like you needed saving from my wife.” Joe said it loud enough for them to hear, as was the laughter that erupted from the kitchen seconds later.

  Chapter 21

  Naomi

  Miriam abandoned Naomi as soon as they walked off the elevator. Naomi wasn’t ready to socialize. She walked to the coat check, passed her ancient trench coat to the attendant, and stuffed the small chip bearing the pick-up number into her sequined handbag. She turned on her heel and scanned the room, hoping to see Esther or Laurie. Instead, she gasped. What was Jake doing here? It never occurred to her that either Noah or Becky would add him to the guest list. She headed toward the bar, wanting to avoid eye contact or speaking to him. As the bartender poured her wine, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

  “You look stunning, Naomi,” Jake said.

  “So do you, Jake. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “I still golf with David once in a while, and I occasionally see Noah and Maria in Squirrel Hill. A few Sundays ago, I ran into them on Murray Avenue, and we ended up having lunch together. Noah’s a good kid.”

  “He is.” Naomi felt awkward. “Well, I really would like to get a bite to eat before the service begins. Did you see Ezra yet?”

  Jake scanned the room. “I see him.” He turned in the direction of Ezra, stopped, and turned back to face her. “Maybe
I could have a dance later?”

  Naomi rolled her eyes and walked away. What was wrong with that man?

  Hors d’oeuvre tables outlined the perimeter of the ballroom. She didn’t really want food. But she also didn’t want what was standing beside the sushi table talking to Becky and David. Aaron turned his head slightly and caught her eye. She cursed her body for reacting, but he looked suave in his tuxedo. She turned and walked in the other direction.

  ***

  Miriam

  Miriam leaned against the wall and craned her head around the corner. She had ducked into the alcove when she saw Becky and David heading in her direction. She wanted to speak with Becky, but in her mental rehearsals, Naomi always stood next to her. Miriam needed to find Naomi before Becky spotted her.

  Guests drinking champagne and nibbling hors d’oeuvres packed the hall. Why did Naomi have to be so short? Miriam leaned back against the wall and inhaled. Inside her head, the self-talk tried to convince her to stop acting like a little girl. There was no reason to feel this way. Noah and Maria personally invited her to the wedding.

  “Miriam? Why are you leaning against the wall?” Joe stepped into the alcove. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  She leaned in and wrapped her arms around her husband. “I think this is a mistake. My stomach is telling me I should have stayed home.”

  Joe squeezed her tighter and then clasped her hand and led her out of the alcove and into the ballroom. As she watched all the happy people, her throat felt dry and her hands cold. Her intuition kicked into overdrive. This evening was not going to end well.

 

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