Naomi, The Rabbi's Wife

by Miriam Finesilver

  The mother, about Naomi’s age, eagerly and gratefully looked up. “Yes. My husband’s parents live here and they’re sending us on a shopping expedition.” She hugged her little girl as she explained, “We need to get to Fifth Avenue and . . . I forgot, the street . . . it’s FAO Schwartz, if that helps.”

  The toddler excitedly told Naomi, “It’s the biggest toy store in the whole world.”

  The internal howling returned and was now deafening. Was “it” a she—a cute little girl?

  Quickly, without being rude, she would give the woman directions and walk away. “You need to get to East Sixtieth Street and Fifth Avenue. Get off at the Fifty-Ninth Street Station. Have a good time.”

  Fleeing, she moved to the other end of the subway car. Nevertheless, her eyes kept moving back to the little girl.

  I don’t deserve someone as good as Daniel. How could I have ever even entertained such a thought?

  During her walk from the subway station to Reade Street, she worked on numbing the pain. She would not talk about Daniel and instead put her attention on Anne. After all, she talked too much about herself anyway.

  Naomi spotted Anne from a block away. She was always so punctual. The restaurant was jam-packed, but Anne pointed to a company of three gathering up their things.

  Once seated, Naomi studied the menu, her brows furrowed. “Okay, what’s tempeh?”

  “It’s from fermented soybeans.”

  “I don’t think so.” Eyes moving to the other side of her menu, Naomi asked, “Soba noodles?”

  “It’s made with buckwheat flour. There’s a salad bar behind you. If you get the salad bar you’ll see what everything looks like before you get stuck with a whole plate of it.”

  “What are you getting?”

  “The salad bar.”

  After a third trip to refill their plates, they were ready to go beyond small talk and do some serious catching up. Naomi kept the promise made to herself and fixed her full attention on Anne. “Tell me all the new and wonderful things happening with you.”

  Anne hesitated for a moment. “I guess you were right in a way. Ever since I sang that religious song, no one’s letting me on their stage anymore.”

  “You’re kidding? That’s not fair.”

  “The song I sang that night, I used to sing it with our youth choir. There were a lot of different ones, but I especially loved that song and thought if I did my own arrangement, others would love it, too. Naomi, I didn’t even really think about the words.”

  Jesus—that was the only word Naomi recalled—that one always seems to offend everyone. What that name had to do with “Oh Happy Day” puzzled her, but right now all that mattered was her friend. “What are you doing for work? You still doing my shift at the Bistro?”

  “No, I actually signed up with a temp agency. They’re getting me secretary and receptionist jobs.” Anne squeezed some lemon into her water. “What was that expression you used to use? Oh give all?”

  “You mean oy gevalt?” Anne nodded. “I only used it when things were really bad. What’s really bad?”

  “The lease on our apartment . . .” Anne corrected herself, “My apartment is up middle of January and the new roommate’s leaving.” Anne reached across the table for Naomi’s hand. “This town’s hard.”

  Naomi put her hand on top of Anne’s. “I’ve missed you so much. Who knew coming to New York City, I’d find my best friend? I thought it was to become rich and famous, but maybe more to learn what being a friend is all about.” Abruptly she grabbed her bowl and stood. “I’m going to get some more of those noodles.”

  Naomi returned and asked, “Would you consider moving in with me?”

  Anne’s face brightened. “I’ve always wanted to live in Brooklyn Heights, and in a brownstone, too.”

  “And it’s quick and easy getting into Manhattan.”

  “How much would rent be?”

  “Only a little more than we both paid in Manhattan. Gary got a good deal and it was passed on to me.”

  An agreement was soon made. Anne would move in toward the end of January, giving Naomi time to clear out the second bedroom. The bill divided in half, they walked toward the subway station together.

  Since Anne would soon be living with her, she better tell her about Daniel now—just in case this relationship continued into the new year.

  Learning about Daniel, Anne’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened. “I don’t get it. How come you waited until now to tell me? The old Naomi would have been bubbling over with this news. He sounds wonderful.”

  Naomi lowered her head and mumbled, “I don’t deserve him.”

  “You don’t deserve to be happy? That’s silly. You do like him, don’t you?”

  “Like him? I more than like him. That’s just it. I’m scared. I don’t want to be hurt. Once he sees me for who I really am . . .”

  “So you’re saying he’s not too bright, is that it? You’ve hoodwinked him? Naomi, he probably sees you the same way I do. You’re someone who is easy to love.”

  Walking down the stairs into the station, Anne advised, “If he’s interested in you, you should be enjoying it. And since it seems you’ve turned over this new leaf, maybe God is rewarding you.”

  They hugged goodbye before Anne made her way to the uptown platform and Naomi to the other side.

  How come I feel like I hoodwinked God?

  In anticipation of Daniel entering her home, for the last week Naomi had given her apartment a face lift. She had the parquet floors polyurethaned, engaged a maid service to add a special sparkle, making the mirrors and windows glisten, and Mop & Glo helped the vinyl tile in her kitchen look brand new. Naomi had considered purchasing several hanging ferns, but the thought of killing another plant made her cringe. Instead the living room had three vases filled with Birds of Paradise and daisy mums.

  When the doorbell rang, her heart fluttered—she was more nervous than on any opening night. One quick spritz with vanilla-scented Glade, and then she opened the door. Daniel was dressed in a charcoal gray striped suit with a teal-colored shirt and tie. “Hi, come on in.”

  “Naomi, you look beautiful . . . but I don’t think I should . . .” His voice trailed off, and then he saw Zoey who had walked right up to the door’s threshold. He stooped down and petted the little calico fuzzball.

  Zoey stepped back into the living room, as if inviting Daniel to step inside. Nonetheless, he remained standing at the front door. After an awkward moment, Naomi walked to where her coat lay over the sofa’s armrest. Daniel stepped inside, picked up the coat and stood behind her, holding it open.

  Her camelhair coat now on, she turned to face him. “Thank you.”

  His flushed face bent towards her, but then he cleared his throat. “We have a dinner reservation for seven.” He put his arm around her waist and led her out the door.

  During their walk to the subway, Daniel said, “Naomi, I hope you understand . . . You know in our parents’ time, a gentleman . . .”

  For the first time, she saw him at a loss for words. She jumped in, “You know, I’ve seen movies, old movies, where they’d talk about courting—and I always thought it was beautiful. Silly of me, huh?”

  Standing on the subway platform, they waited for their train and suffered through an uncomfortable silence. Finally they looked at each other and began to laugh at their bashfulness.

  Naomi confessed, “I think I’m more nervous now than I was at my first prom.”

  At that moment the train pulled in to the station. Holding Naomi’s hand, Daniel walked her into the almost empty car. Once seated, he continued holding her hand. “Tell me about your first prom.”

  “It was totally weird. My mom knew Ira Jacobs’ mom, so they worked it out that Ira would ask me to the prom. When he asked me out, I was really flattered cause I didn’t know about the mom stuff. So, we get to the dance and before I know it, he’s disappeared with my best friend Marianne. Dad came and picked me up at the school, and then he tells me ab
out the two moms and their conspiracy.” Brilliant, Naomi, letting him know what a loser you were. “What about your first prom?”

  In a serious deadpan voice, he answered, “I only went to one prom, and I only went because Mom asked me to take her friend’s daughter. . . That was a joke—a stupid one perhaps.” He lifted her hand to his lips and softly kissed it. “The truth is, I never fit in. People made fun of me saying I was too serious.”

  “Daniel, if you’re so serious, and I can tell you are, then why me? I’m like this silly little Jewish girl.”

  “Is that how you see yourself?” She nodded her assent. “How can you be so wrong? I see you better than you see yourself.”

  Before she could absorb these tender words, they arrived at their station. Walking to the restaurant, he put his arm around her waist. “And I like your fun side—not silly, but fun. Enough said?”

  With delight, she agreed. “Enough said.”

  The old world interior of the restaurant promised an elegant dining experience. Luchow’s had seven separate dining rooms. Their table was in a room with potted palms, elaborately carved columns, chandeliers offering a soft diffused glow, and oak wall paneling.

  Above the paneling the walls were lined with moose heads. When Daniel noticed Naomi fixated on the heads of these animals, he whispered, “Look good? That was last week’s special.”

  A large menu in her hand, Naomi used it to hit her date over the head. They chose to share an appetizer of flambéed thin pancakes with lingonberry sauce. Daniel’s main course would be sauerbraten and Naomi took his suggestion and ordered the roast goose with chestnut puree.

  Naomi commented, “You’re really familiar with this place, aren’t you?”

  “Since I was a kid, whenever we came through the tunnel into Manhattan, Dad would want us to go here. My mother would object. ‘Stefan, they’re German.’ My father would say, ‘Yes, but where else can we get good roast goose, Zofia?’ So half the time we’d come here and the other half we’d get a hot dog from one of the vendors on the street. Saved us enough money that they could send me to college.”

  “You know what I loved from those vendors? Their pretzels. Those big soft ones with all that kosher salt.”

  “You mean I could have gotten away with dinner at some street corner, a pretzel for you and a hot dog for me?”

  He must be paying a fortune for this dinner. “Daniel, I love being here. Truthfully, going out with you on a date, well, you know, dayenu, but to be here in probably the fanciest place I’ve ever—”

  Cupping her cheek with his hand, he quietly told her, “Dayenu for me, too, Naomi.”

  They were interrupted from this intimate moment by a loud “ahem.” The waiter smiled as they turned to him. “Would you be ready to order? If not, please do not hurry.”

  Once the order was taken, Daniel began, “Let me tell you about my sister.”

  “Daniel, what was she so upset about the other night?”

  “It wasn’t just that night. Let me explain Dana to you. Naomi, both my parents were in the camps.”

  “I saw the numbers on your Mom. Your Dad also?”

  “Auschwitz.” He uttered the name of this death camp as though he were forced to drink a glass filled with acid. “I’ll tell you more about that another time . . . if you want me to.”

  “I want to know more, more about you and your family, but only if you’re okay telling me.”

  “I am. But right now: Dana. I’d say it’s pretty much my mother’s fault. Dana’s five years younger than me. I watched as Mom never let her go through the normal teenage woe-is-me stage. Here’s a perfect example: our favorite subject, the Prom. To begin with, Dana’s upset because she thinks she won’t have a date, so she’s sulking around the house. As her big brother, I’m trying to comfort her, telling her not to worry. And Mom, you know what she offers for comfort?”

  With a thick Polish accent, Daniel continued, “You don’t know real problems. After all me and your father have gone through, you feel sorry for yourself because no one asks you to a crazy dance? Vhat mishigas!” Speaking in his own voice again, Daniel said, “Anyway, Dana did finally get a date.” Motioning Naomi to lean toward him, he confidentially whispered into her ear, “I asked my friend Barry to ask her out.”

  “Wish I had a sweet brother like you.”

  “You’re an only child, right?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “It shows. You’re a spoiled brat.”

  The waiter now arrived with their thin pancakes, covered in the red lingonberry sauce. With flare, he poured a thin stream of cognac over the dish, produced a small torch and ignited it. The result was a beautiful blue-tinged flame. This partial combustion left behind an additional sweet aroma. Dividing the one serving into two separate plates for the couple, he said, “Please, enjoy.”

  “Miss Only Child, you should have my plate since he gave me the biggest portion.”

  In between “oohs and aahs” as they were enjoying their appetizer, Daniel continued talking about his sister. “So, Dad makes sure his daughter has a beautiful frock—that’s what he calls it—and by the way, yours is gorgeous.”

  “Truth is I’m scared to death I’m going to get red sauce or something else on it. Can velvet be dry-cleaned?”

  “My only advice: try not to.”

  “Anyway, back to Dana.”

  “She has the frock, she has the date, and then the night before the prom she gets a pimple and begins carrying on, and again Mom says ‘Vhat? A little pimple? You don’t know vhat real suffering is.’ And this kind of thing kept happening.”

  “But, Daniel, your Mother was right.”

  “Yes, of course, she was. But it wasn’t fair to a young girl. It was like she could never get any sympathy. And it loaded her up with all this unbearable guilt, then the guilt, I think, fueled this anger. So, what does she do to jab at Mom, and unfortunately to Dad and me? First she tells us she’s gay and brings her girlfriend Nina over for Thanksgiving. Nina was a psychologist so every time any of us said anything at the table, she’d begin analyzing it. Dad, who’s the more calm one, he was cutting the turkey with the new electric knife Mom and I bought him. He held the knife out toward Dana’s friend and said, ‘Leave. You vill now leave my house, please.’ When Dana threatened to leave with Nina, I got up, opened the door, and asked if they wanted to take a drumstick or a wing with them.”

  Daniel then explained about Dana’s newest relationship, another opportunity to jab at her family. “Ed’s African-American. Naomi, my family’s not a bunch of racists, but because with the persecution they went through, the fear of Dana having to experience the same has been like a knife into their heart. And it’s not like Dana loves Ed. I mean she might, but it appears more like it’s just another way to get back at my family. And I hate to see her hurt Ed. He’s a nice guy.”

  From the adjoining dining room, waltz music came floating through the air, romantically played by a string ensemble. Their appetizer finished, Daniel asked, “Will you dance with me?”

  Naomi’s smiling eyes conveyed a definite yes, and Daniel stood up, pulled out her chair, and led her to the dance floor.

  “This makes up for my first prom,” she told Daniel.

  By ten o’clock, they had finished their dinner. Daniel attempted to hail a taxi, but had no success—it was New Year’s Eve. With it being unseasonably warm for December, Naomi asked, “Couldn’t we walk? It would be fun.”

  The atmosphere walking the twenty-eight city blocks to Times Square was a world apart from the refined surroundings at dinner. Boisterous crowds filled the streets. Although these revelers were in sharp contrast to Daniel and Naomi, they walked hand in hand, not at all bothered by the rowdiness surrounding them.

  Daniel, as if to accentuate this contrast, asked, “So, Naomi, read any good books lately?”

  “Good of you to ask, Rabbi Dan,” she answered, going along with his playfully studious voice. “I’m reading The World According to Garp.”
Going back to her normal voice, she confided, “I don’t think I like it, it’s kinda creepy.”

  “Oh, like the synagogue, huh?”

  “Are you ever going to forget that?”

  “Probably not.”

  “So, what are you reading, Rabbi Dan?”

  “Stop with the Rabbi Dan stuff already. Actually I’m reading a book I really love. It’s called The Snow Leopard. The author, Peter Matthiessen, had gone to Nepal to study these Himalayan blue sheep, which is amazing all by itself, but he went hoping he’d also see a snow leopard. They are supposed to be absolutely beautiful, Naomi, and very rare. The book is all about his five-week adventure climbing through the winter snow. He writes it in a way I can really see it, and even feel the cold, too.” She had stopped walking. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “You are one very interesting man, that’s why. I love that you love a book like that.”

  “Not creepy?”

  “Now stop it already.”

  Arriving at Times Square, they joined all the other celebrants. A stage had been erected for the occasion and Dick Clark was introducing different singers and musicians. When the countdown began, Daniel and Naomi shouted with the chorus of about one million people, watching the famous ball, adorned with hundreds of light bulbs, make its descent from the flagpole.

  Sharing a kiss at midnight: DAYENU.

  CHAPTER 9

  January 1979

  New Year’s Resolution #1: So far so good. Jogging one mile for the third day in a row. From her home to the Brooklyn Heights Promenade Naomi figured to be about one-third a mile, jogging around the promenade itself was known to be one-third a mile, home another one-third, and, voilà, one mile. And then there was the walk back up the stairs. Much more pleasant than the jumping jacks and sit-ups in her living room. The promenade much more scenic. And a wonderful excuse to charge up her credit card at Bloomingdales, after all a girl needs her pink jogging gear.

  Opening the door, Zoey immediately began whining to be fed. In a breathless voice, she scolded, “Girl, hush. Give me a second.” Kicking off her running shoes, she noticed the blinking light on her answering machine. “Oooh, three messages, you’re really gonna have to wait now, girl.”