The Bloom Girls

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The Bloom Girls Page 23

by Amy Pine


  He slipped past her, following Miriam into the kitchen, leaving Alissa maybe, possibly, a tad bit weak in the knees after all. What the hell? She was only human.

  “Mom,” Gabi said as she and Ethan stepped through the door. “You’re blushing. What did T.J. say?”

  Ethan shook his head and laughed. “Does it matter? He’s T.J. Blushing is a common side effect among women who come in contact with him.”

  “Ew,” Gabi said, obviously referring to Alissa’s flushed cheeks. “And I don’t blush when T.J.’s around.”

  Ethan raised his brows. “He told you your boots were sexy, and your cheeks practically caught on fire.”

  Gabi scoffed at the accusation, and Alissa laughed. “Careful there, daughter of mine. Sounds like you’re developing my tell.” Her brows furrowed, so Alissa elaborated. “The scoff. Apparently, it’s been a sign of me—well—stretching the truth ever since I was a kid. You can ask your aunt Becca. And now it seems it’s finally rubbing off on you.” She shrugged. “I guess you’re more like me than you knew.”

  Gabi rolled her eyes but then kissed Alissa on the cheek. “Not that I’m against you dating a younger guy, but please…Anyone but T.J.”

  This time Alissa was the one to scoff.

  Gabi laughed as she stepped back. “I guess I’m going to have to listen for that more often.”

  Alissa snorted, but the laugh sounded more exaggerated than genuine. Maybe Gabi had caught her in the act of stretching the truth, but it wasn’t because she was attracted to T.J. Okay, everyone was likely a little attracted to the guy. But the scoff had been a reaction to Alissa wanting to date a younger guy when in reality she was still hung up on the same guy who’d stolen her heart more than twenty years ago.

  Alissa was about to close the door when her father’s car pulled into the driveway, and instead of him stepping out with a bag of ice, he exited the vehicle empty-handed just as the passenger door opened, and out stepped a short, dark-haired woman Alissa only recognized because her mother had been relentlessly tagging Alissa in conversations or comments she’d had with the other woman on Facebook. Rabbi Rachel Becker.

  “Mother!” she called through gritted teeth. But before the woman could rejoin her at the door, she saw Matthew’s parents parking along the street in front of the house. And while she did not recognize the tall, lanky man who stepped out of their vehicle, she was sure by the yarmulke on his head that he had a similar profession to the woman her father was escorting up the steps.

  Alissa leaned against the opened door, hands crossed over her chest as she regarded her father with an accusatory glance.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, sweetheart,” he said loud enough so that Alissa’s mother would know that he and their surprise guest had arrived. Then he pulled Alissa into a hug. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

  He pulled away and was about to introduce the rabbi when Alissa heard the click-clack of her mother’s heels on the floor. “Rabbi Becker!” Evelyn Adler’s voice singsonged from over Alissa’s shoulder. “Thank you so much for coming!”

  Rabbi Becker held out a hand, and Alissa shook it. “I’m happy I have a bit of time to spare. My partner will pick me up on the way to her parents’ house,” she said, covering their clasped hands with her left. “But I’m so happy to officially meet you, Alissa. Your mother talks about you all the time.”

  “I promise it’s not all true,” she said in defense.

  “Alissa,” Evelyn Adler said from behind her daughter, the same weary exasperation in her tone that always seemed to be there.

  Rabbi Becker chuckled and glanced at Evelyn, then back to Alissa. “She said you were funny, and so far that’s holding up. I hear your daughter and her fiancé are still looking for a rabbi, and I’d love to meet them, tell them a bit about our congregation.”

  The four of them—Alissa, her parents, and the unexpected rabbi—were standing in a clump inside the front door.

  “The congregation?” Alissa said. “Don’t you mean officiating the wedding?”

  Rabbi Becker smiled, her green eyes crinkling at the corners. “Of course. That too,” she said. “But since your parents mentioned their granddaughter and future grandson-in-law were looking to join one themselves—”

  The rabbi didn’t get a chance to finish, nor did Alissa get the opportunity to react because the storm door flew open, a biting gust of November air rendering everyone momentarily silent until Rabbi Becker’s gaze settled first on Matthew’s parents and then their surprise guest.

  “Rachel,” the yet-to-be-identified man said, his eyes growing wide.

  “Avi?” she said. “What—what are you doing here?”

  Gabi’s Gigi gave them all an innocent grin as the small clump of people in Alissa’s equally small foyer began spilling into the living room.

  “Alissa, Evelyn, Michael,” Matthew’s mother said. “So lovely to see you all. I hope you don’t mind Abe and I bringing a guest. This is Rabbi Avi Silverman, my meditation teacher who just happens to be free and in town on Christmas Eve.”

  “He’s the doula?” Alissa asked, slack-jawed.

  “He’s the doula,” the other woman said with a wink.

  Alissa wanted to say more about her ex-mother-in-law pulling the same stunt her mother had, but she was too focused on the way the rabbis were staring at each other, their mouths open in matching expressions of shock.

  Alissa’s brows furrowed and she shook her head. “I’m sorry, but do you two know each other? I mean, I’m basing that on you both knowing the other’s name and not on the assumption that all rabbis know all rabbis. But—do they?”

  Rabbi Becker recovered first. “Avi and I knew each other in college,” she said, a vague explanation based on both of their initial reactions.

  Rabbi Silverman cleared his throat and then grinned. Yet Alissa could somehow tell it pained him to do so. “If by knew each other Rachel means ‘were engaged,’ then yes. We knew each other in college,” he said.

  “Oh my God,” Alissa said out loud, then threw her hand over her mouth. “Sorry! I didn’t mean—can rabbis not say that? Not that either of you said it. But are you allowed to hear it?”

  Jesus, Alissa thought, this time making sure she didn’t say the name outright. But some expletive was needed to indicate what a train wreck the night was going to be, and it hadn’t even started yet.

  “Come with me, Rachel. Gabi and Ethan are in the kitchen,” Evelyn blurted, hooking her arm with Rabbi Becker’s, not giving the poor woman a chance to even take her coat off.

  “Sorry about that,” Rabbi Silverman said, scratching at the dark curly hair on which his yarmulke sat. “Probably not the best greeting. I’m super Zen about it these days. Rachel is—um—she’s the reason I got into meditation and holistic healing. Super Zen,” he said again. “Super, super Zen.”

  “Can I take everyone’s coats?” Alissa asked Matthew’s parents and the super, super not Zen rabbi.

  Gigi raised her brows as everyone dropped their coats in Alissa’s outstretched arms. “Think of how quiet and peaceful a silent ceremony would be.”

  Then she and Matthew’s father ushered Rabbi Becker’s jilted lover into the living room.

  Rabbi’s jilted lover…Words Alissa never expected to enter her thoughts on Thanksgiving—or ever for that matter.

  She marched toward Gabi’s room, which she’d just now declared the coat room, and dropped the two coats on the bed Gabi hadn’t slept in for months now. She sighed, telling herself that the altercation with her mom paired with the rabbi exes crashing the party meant the worst of the evening was over. Then she startled when the baby kicked and she felt a cold burst of air nip at the back of her neck. She heard the storm door slam shut and heard the wood floor creak as steps came toward Gabi’s room.

  “Am I late?”

  Matthew’s voice coming from behind her had almost the same effect as when the baby moved inside her. She felt excited and anxious all at the same time.

  Alissa blew out
a long breath and then spun to face him. He was gorgeous in a maroon puffer vest, a cream fisherman’s sweater, and jeans, but something was off. No, not off. Different.

  She hadn’t seen Matthew since Halloween, since that afternoon in Becca’s office when she’d finally had the emotional catharsis that had been brewing for months. Since then she’d been okay. And from what she’d heard from Sadie, Matthew had been doing well too. But Alissa didn’t want to settle for okay anymore. She wanted—him.

  “Oh my God. You have a beard,” she finally said, puzzling out what felt so foreign about seeing him now.

  He laughed. “That wasn’t exactly a compliment.”

  She raised her brows. “Also wasn’t an insult.”

  He crossed his arms and nodded, then looked her up and down. Her cheeks burned. “You look beautiful, Freckles,” he said. “See? Compliment. That’s how you do it.”

  She snorted. “I’m a black blob in an apron.”

  “A beautiful black blob in an apron,” he insisted. He took off his vest and tossed it onto the bed. Then they stood facing each other for a long moment.

  “It’s good to see you, Matt.”

  “Is it?” he asked

  She nodded, and his shoulders relaxed.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said softly.

  She took a step toward him and pressed her palms to his chest. He let out a shaky breath.

  “You were supposed to let me say that first.”

  “Okay,” he said. “I take it back. I haven’t missed you.”

  She backhanded him on the shoulder but then steadied herself to dish out a tiny dose of truth. “I’ve missed you, Matthew Bloom. And—I want to try to fix this.” She motioned between them. “Us.” Baby steps. This was a start. It wasn’t the time for a big talk, but she at least wanted him to know she’d been thinking about him. A lot. “But you need to know something first.”

  “What?” he asked, worry in his eyes.

  She bit her bottom lip. “My mom and your mom both brought their rabbis as surprise Thanksgiving guests, and it turns out the two of them dated in college, were freaking engaged but obviously aren’t anymore, and he’s still not over it. And he’s the meditation doula. Happy Thanksgiving!”

  “What?” Matthew asked, and then there it was, the gust of cold air and the signature slam of the storm door.

  They moved together out of Gabi’s room and back toward the foyer to find Robert and Ruth Harris, Ethan’s sister Nora, and yet another unidentified guest. A man at least fifteen years older than the other surprise guests but very visibly wearing a yarmulke on top of his thinning gray hair.

  “Alissa, Matthew,” Robert Harris said as they approached. “Thank you so much for having us.”

  “This is—” Ethan’s mom began.

  Alissa didn’t give her a chance to finish. “Your rabbi?”

  “Holy shit,” Matthew said.

  “Oh yes,” Alissa said, unable to keep from laughing even as Ruth Harris’s eyes widened in shock. “It’s going to be one hell of a holy night.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Gabi’s mom stood like a bouncer in front of the swinging kitchen doors after shooing everyone out of the room other than Gabi herself, her dad, Ethan, Miriam, and T.J. The gathering was in full swing now that Becca, Jeff, and the kids as well as Gabi’s aunt Sadie had arrived.

  “All drinks and appetizers are set up on the sideboard, everyone, so please enjoy and leave the kitchen to the professionals!”

  With that she pulled the saloon doors shut and spun to face the group, striding toward the island around which all of them stood.

  “Mom,” Gabi started, but her dad moved to stand next to his ex-wife, shaking his head at Gabi as he did.

  “No way, sweetheart. You’re not pinning any of this on your mom,” he said, crossing his arms.

  Okay, he looked like the bouncer now.

  “But three rabbis?” Gabi added. “What if—what if we don’t even want a rabbi at all?”

  Her parents stared at her with blank expressions.

  “How are you going to get married without a rabbi?” Alissa asked, incredulous. “Oh God. Is the wedding off? I don’t think this night can take any more nails in the coffin. At least there’s enough food.” She chuckled nervously. “There’s always enough food.”

  Gabi groaned. Ethan slipped his hand in hers and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

  “The wedding’s not off,” he assured them, and Gabi loved the conviction in his tone. “But we were thinking that maybe to avoid—well, to avoid what’s happening out there with the wedding rabbi version of The Bachelor—we wouldn’t choose anyone’s officiant and would instead pick our own.”

  “You found your own rabbi?” Gabi’s dad asked.

  Gabi shook her head and smiled, her gaze turning to Miriam, whose head was tilted back as she finished what was left in her wineglass. She hadn’t officially asked her friend to be both maid of honor and officiant, but it seemed like tonight was the night.

  “We want Miriam to do it,” Gabi said.

  Miriam coughed as she swallowed, a tiny dribble of red wine leaking from the corner of her mouth, which she quickly wiped away. “I’m sorry, what?”

  T.J. cleared his throat. “Wait a minute. Why wasn’t I consulted about this? I’d ordain the hell out of myself in a second for you two.”

  Ethan clapped his roommate on the shoulder. “Sorry, man. You need to be circumcised for the job.”

  Gabi and Alissa snorted in unison while Miriam still stood there like a deer in headlights. And this time Gabi’s dad was the one who almost did a spit take.

  T.J. opened his mouth to protest but then chuckled. “I would like to remind you and your lovely fiancée that you’ve both seen my junk and know I’ve been snipped—”

  This was where Matthew Bloom’s actual spit take occurred, though he luckily got most of it back in his glass.

  “He—likes to air-dry after a shower,” Gabi said with a nervous grin. “After a while you stop noticing.”

  “Really?” Alissa asked, and for the first time Gabi realized her mom was the only one without a glass of wine in her hand. Ever the consummate hostess. Gabi was sure, though, that by the night’s end, her mom would need the special stash she’d hidden in the fridge for her—Cooper’s Hawk almond sparkling wine. While Gabi loved the restaurant/winery’s raspberry bubbly, her mom had always preferred the almond. They’d discovered both when Alissa had taken Gabi for her first wine tasting after her twenty-first birthday.

  “I’m just going to pretend this is your first time ever tasting alcohol,” her mom had said. “But on the off chance you think that beer in a plastic cup that only costs a quarter on Sundays is the best there is, I wanted to be the one to show you how much the world of wine has to offer.”

  Of course Gabi had had her share of terrible beer by then, but she also lived in a world where Trader Joe’s existed, and she and her roommates much preferred cheap wine to cheap beer.

  She smiled wistfully at the memory, but was brought back to the present by the mention of T.J.’s very circumcised junk—and yet another aspect of her upcoming wedding that was bound to make waves with both her family and Ethan’s.

  “Right,” T.J. said. “You want a Jewish officiant. Just glad we’re all clear on what’s going on down below.” Wineglass still in hand, he drew an air circle in front of his groin and grinned. Then he set the glass down on the island. “Now, does anyone have a bowl of popcorn so I can just sit back and watch for the rest of the night? I can’t wait to see how this one ends.” He hopped up on an empty countertop, giving himself a front-row seat.

  Alissa and Matt both held their hands up in surrender.

  “I have zero rabbi skin in this game,” Gabi’s mother said, then gasped. “That probably didn’t come out right post-circumcision-talk.”

  Gabi’s dad lowered his hands protectively over his pants. “Can we stop talking about circumcisions?”

  “Dad! Ew.” Gabi turned
to face her best friend. “Okay. I was hoping to do this without an audience—and without catching you off guard like this. But before we confront the battle of the rabbis, Ethan and I need to go out there with a counteroffer…”

  Miriam laughed and swiped at a tear under her right eye. She was smile-crying, which Gabi hoped was a good sign.

  “For these past few months planning this wedding, all I’ve thought about is how all our decisions will affect everyone else. Will Ethan’s parents like me more if we do this? Will both sets of my grandparents get along better if we do that? Is it too much to ask my mom to basically cater the gig or ask my dad to go wedding dress shopping with me when we haven’t spent time one-on-one like that in years?” She knew her parents were staring at her intently—Ethan and T.J. too—but this was about Gabi and her best friend right now. It was about Gabi doing what made her happy rather than worrying about what everyone else would think. “No decision we make about who marries us is going to make everyone out there happy,” she continued, motioning toward the swinging saloon doors. “But this decision makes us happy.” She glanced over her shoulder, and Ethan gave her a gorgeous, reassuring grin. So Gabi lowered herself to one knee and took her best friend’s hand, holding it between her own.

  Miriam gasped, then covered her mouth with her free hand.

  “Miriam…You are my best friend. My maid of honor. My sister. And you were my first person. Will you marry us?”

  Miriam nodded, beaming at Gabi, then gave her friend’s hand a gentle tug. “Yes,” she said, reaffirming her answer. “Now get up so I can hug you!”

  Gabi sprang to her feet and pulled her friend into the tightest hug she had in her.

  “You’re my first person too,” Miriam whispered against Gabi’s ear while T.J. applauded and offered a couple of whoops and hollers. Ethan’s and Gabi’s parents were talking now, too, which gave the two young women a tiny bubble of privacy while they were still locked in their embrace. “Also, you’ve really seen T.J.’s…” Miriam added, not needing to finish the sentence, and Gabi pulled away, raising her brows at her very best friend.

 

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