“Do it,” Aaron said. “Just start writing. Let the story take you where it wants to go.”
They toasted with champagne. “Naomi, I have something I need to say to you.”
She looked at him. In her life, those words usually ended up bearing bad news. She closed her eyes and inhaled.
“Hey,” he said. “What’s with the look of terror on your face?”
“Those words don’t usually lead to good news.” She stared down at her half eaten salmon. It had lost all appeal, so she picked up her water goblet and swallowed hard.
“Tonight, whether it’s good news or bad news is in your court.” He leaned back into the chair. “I’ve been here in Pittsburgh for months now. In a few weeks, my job officially begins, but I already know that it’s everything I wanted. I hope it will be the job I retire from someday.”
She smiled.
“I have a great apartment in New York City but, in Pittsburgh, I’m just a fifty-year-old man living with his mother. We’re annoying the hell out of each. I need my own place.”
Her stomach rolled. This conversation was going somewhere.
“I want to live with you. I can’t stand sneaking around for Ezra’s benefit. And I don’t want to wait until he goes to college in September.”
She knew she was supposed to say something, but her heart, thumping against her chest, was so distracting.
“I like Mt. Lebanon and I want a house, but I don’t want to live in Jake’s house. I want us to buy our own house.”
He stopped talking and waited. It was up to her to break the silence. She wanted to spend every moment with him. She wanted to roll over at night and feel his body next to hers. She wanted to kiss him as he left for work in the morning and wrap her arms around him when he came home. But Ezra and Josh. What kind of mother just sells her children’s home and moves in with a man?
“I love you, Naomi. Let’s start being a real couple.”
Her head felt light, and it had nothing to do with the champagne. He said the words without hesitation. They flowed from his mouth as easily as hello. She never allowed herself the luxury of thinking about love, let alone saying the words out loud. But hearing him say it triggered her courage. “I love you, too.”
He reached out and clasped her hand. “Where do we go from here? It’s your call. We can live together or get married. Your choice.”
“Married.”
“How does next Wednesday sound to you?”
The entire discussion while driving home centered on a honeymoon trip to Israel, selling the house, and shopping for a new one. The whole conversation felt surreal. She was engaged.
As soon as Naomi walked through the front door, she called Ezra. He was thrilled when he heard they were getting married. Josh reacted similarly when they told him via Skype. That night, Ezra went to bed, and so did Aaron and Naomi.
***
Miriam
For days, Miriam walked around her house like a zombie. She lost her ability to think and didn’t really want it to come back. Joe took her to dinner at her favorite restaurant and suggested they take a vacation after Passover. She didn’t want to go anywhere or do anything.
On Thursday morning, unable to control the pain surging through her body, she dialed Becky.
No answer.
She couldn’t find words to leave a message. She put down the phone and curled up on the sunroom chair, crying--until acceptance that her friend was gone forever sank into her soul.
Chapter 24
Naomi
Naomi reached her office late on Wednesday, due to a water main break on Banksville Road. She hated being late. She pulled out her bottom drawer to deposit her purse and heard her cell phone ring. The name on her screen read: Rabbi Morty. She’d called him the day before to tell him about her and Aaron’s plan to marry.
“Hi, Rabbi,” she said. “Thanks for calling me back.”
“I’m not calling you back.” His voice hitched. “You need to leave work and come to Becky’s house as fast as you can. Just leave. There’s been an accident.”
“What kind of accident? Did Becky fall? Or David? Did something happen to David?”
“Just get here.”
***
Naomi heard the screams before she reached the front door. She ran inside and saw David on the couch slumped against Rabbi Morty--skin ashen white, as if all the blood had leached out of his face.
Both men sobbed. Becky’s screams blasted from the kitchen.
Naomi ran down the hall to the kitchen, first spotting the rebbetzin, trying to talk calmly to Becky. Naomi and Becky spotted each other at the same time. Becky ran and threw herself into Naomi’s arms. “She killed him! She killed him. That bitch killed my son!”
Naomi’s knees buckled. Her throat constricted. “What’s going on?”
“She killed them both. She sent them on that damn honeymoon. The driver wrecked the car. Noah and Maria are dead. My son is dead!”
Becky crumbled onto the floor. Naomi collapsed next to her. Becky screamed. Naomi sobbed. Time stopped.
Inside Naomi’s head, her brain begged her to get a grip. Becky needed her to be strong. Naomi clenched Becky in her arms, using every bit of strength she could muster. She didn’t know how he got there, but at some point Aaron was on the floor next to her. His arms clamped around her as she held Becky.
“Aaron, Noah’s dead. Maria’s dead. A car accident,” Naomi said.
“I know, honey. I know.” As he spoke, he rubbed her head, as if consoling a child.
They all heard it and looked up--Miriam’s shrill voice ringing from the hallway. She ran into the kitchen. “Becky! Becky!”
Becky sprang up like a flaming arrow from a bow. “You killed my son! Get out. Get out.” She ran to the drawer, pulled out a long knife, and headed toward Miriam. “I’m gonna kill you!”
Aaron exploded from the floor, grabbed Becky’s waist, and struggled to restrain her.
Becky twisted and fought against Aaron’s grip. “Let me go. Let me go. She deserves to die. Her father killed my mother and she killed my son.” She gripped the knife and held it above her head. “I hate her! I hate her!”
“Drop it, Becky! Drop it now,” Aaron shouted, pulling at her arm, trying to reach the hand clamping the knife.
Naomi leapt from the floor to help Aaron. “Give me the knife!”
She dove for Becky’s arm as Aaron clamped his hand around her elbow joint.
“I hate all of you!” Venom exploded from every pore of Becky’s body. She yanked her arm from Aaron’s hand, slicing his forearm wrapped around her rib cage.
Naomi froze and her eyes widened. Aaron kept his arm clamped around Becky.
“If I can’t kill her, let me die.” Becky raised the knife and plunged it into her own chest.
In the background, Naomi heard screaming.
“Call nine-one-one!” someone yelled.
Naomi rode to the hospital in the ambulance with Becky, who was rushed straight into surgery.
***
Aaron walked into the hospital an hour later. His shirt sleeve was cut above his forearm and the bandage on his arm appeared professionally applied. He sat down next to her, leaned over, and pulled her into a hug with his good arm. “How are you?”
She pulled back, lifted his arm, and looked quizzically into his eyes. “Who bandaged you up?”
“Jake.”
She cocked her head.
“At some point before everything blew up, the rabbi had called Jake. He wanted sedatives for David and Becky. The only person he could think of who could write a prescription was Jake. Instead of calling it in to the pharmacy, Jake came to the door with a medical bag. He saw the blood soaking through my sleeve and went to work sewing me up.”
“Wow,” was all she could say before resting her head on his shoulder and holding his hand.
They sat in silence. Both submerged in their own thoughts.
“What was happening back there when you left?” Naomi final
ly asked.
Aaron drew in a long breath. “The rebbetzin was on the love seat, holding Miriam, who kept repeating ‘I didn’t kill him.’ It was heart wrenching. Jake gave David a Xanax. He was sobbing quietly on the sofa with Rabbi Morty sitting next to him. Jake was in the kitchen cleaning up the blood. I started to help him, but he told me to go and be with you.”
Naomi blew her nose into a wet, worn tissue. “Miriam didn’t kill Noah.”
Aaron stroked her hand. “Of course, she didn’t. It was an accident.”
A few other people sat and paced inside in the surgical waiting area. A pink-coated volunteer sat behind a computer, giving out information as it became available. It was over two hours before she called Naomi to the desk. “The surgery is complete. The doctor will be here in a few minutes to speak with you.”
Naomi nodded and returned to her seat. Moments later a surgeon--still clad in scrubs with a mask dangling around his neck--ushered her and Aaron into a small private room.
“The surgery went well,” he said, pulling the door closed. “Luckily, she hit the wrong side of her chest. Her lung was punctured, and she slashed a vein, but the fact that you got her here so fast enabled us to stop the internal bleeding in time. She should make a full recovery.”
Naomi exhaled. “Thank you.”
“She’ll be in recovery for a few hours and then moved to the ICU.”
Naomi nodded.
“But,” the doctor said, “she stabbed herself. When she’s stable, she’ll be sent to the psych ward for an evaluation and observation.”
“Good!” Naomi blurted through tears. “She needs help.”
“How long will she be in the ICU?” Aaron asked.
The doctor shrugged. “We’ll have to see how she does. I don’t like making those types of predictions. All looks good right now. We’ll take it day by day.”
Naomi and Aaron thanked the doctor and returned to the waiting room, not knowing where else to go.
“One of us needs to call Rabbi Morty,” Aaron said.
“Could you do it, please? I don’t feel like talking.”
“Sure, but I need to go find a spot where I have a signal.” He rose from the chair, leaned over, and kissed her forehead before walking out the door.
***
Some days fly by and others last an eternity. For two interminable weeks, Naomi and Rabbi Morty worked with the United States Consulate in Israel and the local funeral home, making arrangement to have the bodies returned to Pittsburgh. During this period, Maria’s parents holed up inside their own home, barely communicating with anyone.
Naomi used eight of her stockpiled vacation days shuttling between Becky’s hospital room, checking in on David, and consoling the inconsolable Miriam. Naomi’s heart felt like a dishrag twisted and squeezed until there was no water left to drip out. Thank goodness for Aaron and Ezra, who stepped up and took over the menial tasks of her life, cooking and laundry duties.
Becky’s chest was healing nicely, but she remained a suicide risk and uncooperative with the medical staff. More than once, she screamed at Naomi to get out of the room.
Every afternoon Naomi took lunch to David, which he pushed around the plate before throwing it into the trash. “David, you have to eat something,” she begged.
“Why?” he asked, looking at her through hollow, empty eyes.
Was there an answer to his question? He needed a reason to live, and at that moment, she struggled to find one for him. He refused to visit Becky, staunch in his belief that her craziness caused this tragedy. The only person he seemed to connect with was Miriam. She and Joe spent hours each evening with David, listening as he talked about Noah and the bright future he lost. Sometimes David pulled out the old family albums, and they all sobbed over the photos.
“The funeral is in two days,” Naomi said, as she prepared a turkey sandwich. “Noah deserves to have you standing at his grave reciting The Graveside Kaddish. If you don’t eat, you won’t be able to do it.”
He looked at her with a flash of understanding. “I must say Kaddish for my son.”
She nodded. “Yes, and to do that, you must have all your strength.”
***
This morning, they were finally laying Noah to rest. Later in the day, Maria would be buried in a Catholic cemetery next to her grandparents. The weather felt their pain and reacted appropriately. Thick clouds blackened the sky. The rain didn’t drizzle weakly from the sky. It shot down, hitting the mourners like knives thrown by an invisible knife thrower. Each drop sliced into her soul.
She stood hand-in-hand with Esther, Laurie, and Miriam, staring at the pile of dirt that was quickly becoming a mound of mud. The sound of rain water hammering against their umbrellas masked the sound of their sobs. Everyone watched as Noah’s friends from law school took turns shoveling dirt into the grave. The young men and women wept at the sound of the earth hitting the coffin, containing the friend they would never laugh with again. Absent from the scene was Becky, who remained locked in the psych ward.
Naomi begged Hashem for strength, as she stepped forward and clasped the long handle of a shovel probably purchased at Lowe’s that morning. Noah deserved a shovel of gold and platinum. She dug the blade into the heap of soil and lifted as much as she could. Before tossing it onto the simple wooden coffin, she whispered to herself, “Noah, you leave a hole in our world. I will always hold you close to my heart and love you.”
The chunks of clay and mud flew through the rain and landed. She hoped to be able to do another shovelful, but her arms lacked the strength and her lungs felt tight. She stuck the shovel into the mud and picked up her umbrella. Esther pulled the shovel from the mound and took her turn.
Naomi returned to her spot with Laurie and Miriam and watched Esther toss shovelful after shovelful onto the box. Never did Naomi imagine that tiny-framed Esther had so much strength.
A half hour later, the rabbi declared the coffin completely covered. Naomi’s heart thudded and her gaze shifted from the wet ground to David standing a few feet to her left, flanked by his brother and Becky’s brother. She prayed he’d be given the fortitude to survive this horrific moment and fought off the urge to run and embrace him. Jake, Lewis, Joe, and Aaron stood behind the three men, prepared to help if David crumbled.
“Kaddish,” the rabbi announced in a voice loud enough to be heard over the sound of the pummeling rain.
They all lifted their heads when David choked out the ancient words--words every Jew knew echoed the past and put an end to a future.
Yis’ga’dal v’yis’kadash sh’may ra’bbo, b’olmo dee’vro chir’usay v’yamlich malchu’say, b’chayaychon uv’yomay’chon uv’chayay d’chol bais Yisroel, ba’agolo u’viz’man koriv; v’imru Omein...
The End
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Susan Sofayov is a Pittsburgh-based writer. She’s married to a wonderful, but completely unsupportive husband who feels she should focus less on writing and more time on her “real job,” running the family real estate management company. She has three out-of-the-nest children and an aging small white dog. Her debut novel DEFECTIVE chronicles a young woman’s battle to live an ordinary life while struggling with undiagnosed bipolar 2 disorder.
She has a BA in English Literature and Political Science from the University of Pittsburgh and an MA in Teaching from Chatham University.
GENRE: JEWISH FICTION/WOMEN’S FICTION
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, businesses, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only. The publisher does not have any control over or assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their contents.
THE KIDDUSH LADIES
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sp; Copyright © 2016 by Susan Sofayov
Cover Design by Susan Sofayov
All cover art copyright © 2016
All Rights Reserved
EBOOK ISBN: 978-1-626945-75-3
FIRST PUBLICATION: DECEMBER 10, 2016
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