Mean

by Justin Sayre

  “Hey, Elle, how are you feeling?” He smiles.

  “Please don’t ask me that.” I smile back. We both nod a little, because we get it.

  “I want you to know how proud I am of you,” he says, looking down a little. “You are so smart and kind and caring. You’re doing all this and you’re doing it so well. I’m so impressed and honored by you.”

  “Dad, come on.” I smirk at him.

  “You come on. You’re killing it. No matter what happens, I love you more than I can ever say.” He smiles, finally looking up at me. He steps closer to me and pulls me into a hug. “And you’ll always be my little girl, no matter how many people tell you you’re a woman today.”

  Mom comes out of the bathroom and sees us hugging. She smiles and heads into their bedroom to let us have this moment just between the two of us. Dad lets go of me and sneaks past me into the bathroom. When he’s inside, Mom calls from their bedroom and asks me to come in.

  “Do you want me to do your makeup today? Nothing crazy, just a little blush or something?” she asks as she’s starting to get ready herself. I say I would like that a lot and she asks about my hair too. I say yes to everything, because I know today I need as much help as I can get.

  We’re not nearly as organized as we were at Aunt Claire’s yesterday, and everything feels hectic and crazy when there’s only the four of us to worry about. All our phones are ringing for most of the morning, with people asking what we need or how it’s coming along. What we all need is a little quiet, but none of us want to be mean. When I’m finally showered and ready, I go into Mom’s room, and she sits me down on her bed and starts to powder my face.

  She asks me about my Hebrew, and I tell her I know it, though I’m beginning to doubt that fact myself. She’s so patient and careful with my face, it feels wonderful to be cared for like this. She combs out my hair, which is a curly mess, but she handles it gently and tells me about her bat mitzvah, which for some reason we’ve never actually talked about. She wore a pink dress that she thought looked so good at the time, but doesn’t hold up so well in pictures. She laughs at that, but she remembers Zayde said she was the most beautiful girl in the whole world. He would have said the same to me today if he were here, she says, but I don’t know about that.

  Finally my hair is done, and my face is done, and Mom tells me to go get my outfit on and come down. She says I should have a bit of a reveal. It took me so long to find something I wanted to wear. She asks Dad to bring Hannah downstairs because she’s been dying to be with us all morning. I go into my room and put on my outfit, slowly, taking my time not to wrinkle anything or mess anything up. And when I’m dressed and ready, I turn and look at myself and now for the first time I see the difference I was looking for this morning. I’m gorgeous. Honestly, and you know I would never say that, but I look so good.

  When I walk downstairs, I can tell they all agree. Dad actually gasps. Mom covers her mouth and starts to cry. Hannah races toward me, but stops because even she sees that this isn’t an outfit to be tackled in. She tells me I look beautiful and I thank her and hug her anyway. Mom tells me to stand still and starts taking pictures, and the minute I get a little sick of standing there and smiling she says, “Honey, you need to relax, this is going to happen to you all day today.”

  We get to the shul early to meet Aunt Debbie and that’s when the real freaking out begins. Not mine, Aunt Debbie’s. “Oh my God! You look like Charlize Theron! I don’t even mind the pants!” she shrieks. She’s so excited today, she’s been up since five in the morning, and at the shul since eight. The janitor had to open the place up for her. She’s been folding programs and letting in the caterers for the coffee after. Rabbi Jessica isn’t even here yet.

  “How do you feel? Are you ready?” Aunt Debbie asks.

  I tell her yes and am kind of shy about it. I think I know all the Hebrew and the way it’s going to go down, but I’m starting to get nervous about it all. About all the people coming and Zayde not. My hands are sweating and I don’t know if I can wipe them on my pants, because I don’t want to screw them up before the party. I’m about to freak out a little, when Rabbi Jessica walks in and calms me down.

  “Rachel E, you look beautiful. Are you ready?” She smiles at me. I think she sees a bit of the panic in my eyes because she takes me back to her office so that we can just have a breather. Aunt Debbie tries to grab after me for something she needs done, but luckily Mom stops her and lets me go.

  “You’ve had a really tough few days,” Rabbi Jessica says when we’re in her office. “So many people wouldn’t have the strength to go forward in the way you have, Rachel.”

  “I don’t know if I do. I’m just doing it.” I smile back.

  “Sometimes that’s the best we can hope for. Do you want to practice with me one last time?” Rabbi Jessica smiles. Step by step we lay out the service and get to my part. I close my eyes and sing through the Hebrew. We have to sing the words in a way that I was told would help me memorize, but at the moment nothing is working. I start again. I mess up and start again.

  “Okay, Rachel. Breathe. You know this,” Rabbi Jessica says as she puts her hand on my shoulder. I try again but screw up. I start again, but then Aunt Debbie busts through the door with a knock that’s really just a formality.

  “Bubbe got here and you should go and say hello. I know she wants to see you in your outfit.” She smiles, but sees how nervous I am. “She can wait a minute. Everything all right?”

  “We just need a minute. We’re going to be great,” Rabbi Jessica says as she closes the door with Aunt Debbie on the other side. I take a deep breath and Rabbi Jessica asks me what I need.

  “I just need a minute to breathe. It’s all so much, and I know that’s how it’s supposed to be. I know it’s supposed to be a big deal, but I feel the weight of it all and it’s crushing me,” I say, barely catching my breath.

  “Rachel, breathe. I’m here. We’re all here for you,” Rabbi Jessica says, sitting next to me. “You’re thinking that this is a performance or a task and it’s not. It’s a chance to share. It’s a chance to be a part of this community. You’re going to stand in front of people who love you and say that you love them back. That you call yourself one of them. It’s an affirmation of the person you are and the person you will be. It’s joyful. It’s a gift. Don’t drive yourself crazy thinking otherwise.”

  I don’t know why, but that does actually calm me down a little. It’s a gift. It’s a gift. I’m giving a gift. I want to throw up, but I don’t think of vomit as a gift. I sit down and try to concentrate, but it’s all rolling over me. Rabbi Jessica looks at me. “Hey, do you remember my empathy banister?”

  I answer that I do, and we laugh about how bad it still is. “Well, you know all that talk about understanding and compassion? That’s not just about how we deal with other people. It’s also about how we should deal with ourselves. Don’t be so hard on yourself today, and if you feel like you’re falling, grip on to that banister. Be gentle with yourself, and you’ll do great.”

  Aunt Debbie comes back to the door to tell us both that it’s time. Rabbi Jessica knows by now that even though she’s the rabbi, Aunt Debbie’s the one running the show today. Rabbi Jessica squeezes my hand and walks me out into the shul.

  The whole place is packed. Mom, Dad, and Hannah are sitting in the first row with Bubbe next to Hannah. She smiles and waves to me as soon as I walk out. Aunt Debbie and Aunt Claire are one row behind them and they crane their necks to see me when I walk out. Aunt Claire starts to cry when she sees me. I sit in the row with my parents, and Dad squeezes my hand as soon as I sit down. He mouths, “You got this.” I wish I could be that sure.

  Rabbi Jessica comes out and welcomes the congregation. She waves to the cantor who starts to sing something winding and beautiful in Hebrew. The music makes it all seem a little better. It is both ancient and real, and the cantor, this short m
an with glasses, sings with a voice that is so beautiful and intricate it makes me think of the graves from yesterday.

  I know it seems strange to be happy thinking about dead people, but I think about all the years that people have heard these words. All the people that have believed in what these words mean, and all the people that came before me who did amazing and brave things so that I could hear them now. I think of my great-grandmother and my great-aunt Zelda. I think about Zayde who loved these words so much that he fought with everything he had to come up to New York to hear me say them for the first time. I miss him so much, and I know it’s sappy, but I feel like he’s here with us. I feel like he’ll know how I’ll do, and because of that, I want to do well for him.

  Rabbi Jessica calls me up and my parents walk me to the bimah. My parents stand behind me as I go up to take the Torah out of the ark. It’s this huge metal scroll that if I drop it, it has to be buried. It’s a really big deal. But I pick up the Torah scroll and I feel like I’m steady with it as I walk to the bimah. Rabbi Jessica helps me unwrap the Torah from its covering and unroll it so I can start. Start reading. In Hebrew. Out loud, singing in front of everyone I know and a lot of people I care about. I’m going to barf.

  I look out and see them all there, all their faces looking up at me and waiting for me to start. There’s Ducks and his mother and her boyfriend. His grandmother sits next to them and might be the only lady in a hat in the whole place. There’s Sophie with her mother, and they both look so good. Sophie’s smiling from ear to ear at how good I look. And Charlie with his mother, who’s not smiling, but I doubt that has anything to do with me. And Allegra and her mother and father. And Noah. He smiles at me.

  And in the front rows, my family. My parents and my sister. My aunt Debbie, who’s put all of this together. Her husband, who didn’t wear the yarmulke we provided today because he’s always wearing one. My cousin Shelley already looking bored, but she could be just tired. Aunt Claire and her son, Aaron, are sitting next to them. Bubbe smiles up at me, and there’s a space next to her that I know is where Zayde should be. So that’s where I look. Right to Zayde, whether he’s here or not. Rabbi Jessica hands me the yad, a pointer to help me follow along, and I begin.

  My haftarah portion is over before I know it. It goes perfectly. Absolutely perfectly. After it’s done, I look out and think of the gift. The gift of this moment with them, and I start there. “Well, it’s been a couple of days.” I smirk, and everyone laughs a little. “We’ve been through a lot. More than I think any of us really thought we could handle. But look at us. We’re handling it. And we’re looking pretty good doing it. For months I’ve been thinking about today. I’ve been nervous and worried about how it would go. I never thought to worry about something else. And then something else happened.” I start to tear up a little, but I take a breath and wait. “My zayde died two days ago. I didn’t think to worry about that. But here we are. And we’re sad. Of course we are, my zayde was such a great guy, it would be hard not to be sad without him. But looking out at you, I can’t be sad, because you all came here to be with me at this moment. The moment I become a woman, and my zayde wanted to be here so badly that he traveled and tried his best. That’s how much I meant to him. And I guess that’s how much I mean to you. So looking out at you, I can’t be sad. Because look at how much I’m loved. I’m not sad. I’m just grateful.”

  Rabbi Jessica smiles at me and gives me a little thumbs-up. The cantor starts a raucous song that has everyone clapping and happy. Especially me. I’m a woman now, and it feels great.

  Chapter 28

  “So? What do you think?” Aunt Debbie says as we walk into the hall, and I don’t know what to say. It’s really beautiful, there’s a sort of trellis in front of a huge blown-up picture of a landscape from Final Fantasy. There are these beautiful, mystical-looking centerpieces on all the tables. It’s all wonderful, and I’m overwhelmed by how much I like it, and just how right Aunt Debbie got it.

  “It’s beautiful, Aunt Debbie. Thank you,” I say, covering my mouth a little. Mom thanks her and so does Dad, and even as they go on and on about how much they love it, she’s waiting for me to say more, but I really can’t. There aren’t enough words.

  “Did I do all right?” Aunt Debbie asks, showing me the rest of the room. I squeeze her arm and plant my face right into her shoulder to say yes, sending the vibrations of my voice through her to let her know just how much I love it. She shows me the photo board with an avatar of me, drawn to look like I’m part of the game and which everyone is supposed to sign. It looks like my regular avatar that I use in the game, but there are more hints that it’s me, and I love it. I love it so much I almost shriek out loud when I see it.

  People start to come into the big room and mill around the tables, finding where they’re supposed to sit, but it’s really a chance to get to see everyone before we sit down to eat. Ducks runs to me and hugs me. He’s proud of me and says so in my ear with almost a growl. His mother follows him and hugs me too, but her boyfriend just shakes my hand. I think Ducks has made him nervous about his friends, because Ducks doesn’t totally like him, but he seems nice to me. Ducks’s grandmother comes up to me and hugs me hard.

  “You’ve done well, darling,” she says, holding her hands together right in the middle of her chest. “How did you remember all that, with everything else?”

  “I wanted to get it right. At least for him,” I say, thinking that I’ve never said anything so real to this woman who I’ve always been a little afraid of. But she smiles. She knows who I mean and she knows exactly what the loss feels like. She touches my face and says to me in the softest words I’ve ever heard her speak, “I’m sure he loved it. And he loves you.” She smiles and walks off to her table.

  Sophie jumps up to me and hugs me hard, still so excited by my outfit. “You’re a supermodel. You’re so beautiful. And I have to say, and don’t freak out, your boobs look great.” I can’t help but laugh when she says this, which is exactly what she wants. We talk for a while, almost leaning our foreheads against each other, trying to find a small private place in this huge room quickly filling with people. She asks about Noah, of course, and it feels good to gush about him a little. It’s a relief to be excited instead of so lost and sad. But we talk about Zayde too.

  “You’re handling it all, Ellen, and you’re doing it perfectly.” Sophie smiles.

  There’s a line of people waiting behind her, but I don’t care, I just need another moment with my friend. “I’m glad you think so, I don’t know if I am.”

  “Well, when you’re not, or if you’re not feeling like you can, I’m here,” she says, hitting my arm as her mom finally pulls her away so we don’t hold everything up.

  I say hello to everyone in the long line of cousins and friends and aunts. Each tells me how sorry they are for my loss, and how proud they are for how well I did today. Some people tell me about a sad time they had or someone they’ve lost, while others just make a strange face when they don’t totally know what to say. It’s a complicated time for everyone, and I’m not the only one that doesn’t know exactly how to do it.

  “I’m sure your grandfather would be proud of you today,” say at least twenty people. I know they all mean it, and I know they mean it to be a beautiful thing to say, but it all starts to feel a little false. I know they’re trying. I mean, so am I, but I just don’t know why any of us have to try so hard. Can’t anyone just say, God, this is so weird and it must be so weird for you? We’re all just trying to be nice and correct, when the truth is a lot different than anything we’re feeling. I’d love to hear that.

  I’m standing there so long, I’m almost ready to faint. I’ve never smiled for that much in my life. I ask Mom if I can run to the bathroom, just for a break. She smiles with a sigh that lets me know she knows exactly how I feel. I run out into the hallway and rush into the bathroom, only to find Bubbe.

  “Hiding out, huh?�
�� She smiles, putting on lipstick in the mirror. “I had to take advantage of the mirror while I had it.”

  “How are you?” I ask her with a bit of a smile.

  “I’m all right. It’s complicated. I miss him so much. He would have been so proud of you today. You look beautiful. You read beautifully. He would have loved it.” She laughs. “But he would have wanted a little attention for himself. He wrote out a whole bunch of jokes, did I show you?”

  Bubbe takes three folded-up index cards out of her purse and hands them to me. As soon as I see them, I recognize Zayde’s handwriting. He wrote a whole speech, and a bunch of jokes. All the cheesy stuff I knew he would say today, and then something sweet at the bottom. I read it out loud.

  “Life is funny, funnier than any of us ever realize. If you would have told me all those years ago, growing up on Avenue H, that I would be standing here with my beautiful wife of almost fifty years and my three gorgeous daughters and now my most beauteous granddaughter who used to arm wrestle me for candy, I would have told you, I never got to play for the Dodgers. Well, no, I didn’t. But I got to have a life that was so full of love and laughter and endless excitement that I wouldn’t trade a thousand home runs for the one she hit today. Your Bubbe and I love you with all our hearts, Ellen. And if you don’t believe me, let’s wrestle. Best two out of three.”

  I cry as I read it, but laugh too. It’s so him. I can hear him saying each and every word, and when I look up, Bubbe’s crying too. She’s obviously read it before. I ask her if I can keep these and she nods. She finishes touching up her face and puts a little blush on me too.

  “Shall we go and try to have a good time?” Bubbe says, taking a deep breath.

  “Let’s do better than try.” I tilt my head back trying to laugh like Zayde.

  We walk out into the hallway, which is still full of people, but more importantly, there’s Noah. He’s standing near the door, looking gorgeous but also a little nervous, and that makes me like him even more. His eyes light up when he sees me, and I think mine do too. So much so that Bubbe notices and nudges me toward him, telling me she’ll meet me inside.