by Sheryl
This would be perfect. Especially since Noa had always loved my identical red set.
“That’ll look great on your daughter.”
I spun around and bumped into... a wall. Made of muscle and warmth. My heart stopped at the sight before me.
Strong hands helped me regain my balance. Sparkling greenish-gold eyes behind a set of rimless glasses and dazzling white teeth smiled down at me.
I took a step back.
He was perfect.
Six feet tall. Lean - not skinny, but not overly bulky. Tufts of chocolate brown hair covered his head and flickered down across his forehead. Dressed in a pair of well-fitted jeans, a plain black t-shirt and a light fall jacket, with a thin woollen scarf hung loosely around his neck he looked effortlessly casual.
Oh yeah, he was perfect alright; perfectly dangerous.
“Excuse me?” I narrowed my eyes at him.
He carried on smiling. “That,” he pointed towards the hat, “would look great on any little girl. And clearly you’re not buying it for yourself.”
“I’m not married” I replied indignantly.
Crap. He never asked me that.
“What I meant is…is that I don’t have kids,” I added a little more shakily.
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? I’m surprised. I thought someone like you would definitely have a couple of toddlers by now. What a pity.”
Pity! How dare he?
“What exactly are you insinuating. I hope you know that not every woman my age has to be married or have kids.”
“Well you are Jewish aren’t you?”
This was getting more and more out of hand.
“So you’re judging Jewish women?”
“Evvvvaaa…are you ready to go?”
“We’re starvinggg!” I could hear Aimee and Latisha shouting out my name, looking for me.
It was his turn to look stumped, “That’s…uh…that’s not what I meant…I think you misunderstood me.”
“I don’t think I did.” Clutching onto the Gucci accessories, with my head held high, I spun around and joined my friends, leaving him with a confused look on his face.
He may have been cute. He may have been the first guy in a long time that I actually noticed. But there was no way I was going to let someone judge me for my cultural background or my gender and form conclusions about what I should or should not be doing.
Not again.
6 – AIMEE
The four of us stared out the taxi window at the rows of perfect houses and beautifully manicured lawns passing us by.
The air between us was filled with a thick mix of anxiety, awe and a tinge of jealousy. The other girls had grown up surrounded by all of this. But for me, this was foreign and new. This was what a perfect childhood amongst a perfect family looked like. Something I’d never had. Something deep down I would never stop wanting. My childhood had been spent in a small, cramped one-bedroom apartment in the midst of Paris
I was always a little envious of Latisha, Anya and Eva. They had been raised in loving environments filled with family and tradition. The only consistency I had when I was younger was my mother. And I know she had tried. She had even tried to settle down again but no one had been good enough. If she liked them, they weren’t stable enough. If they were fit to be a father, she didn’t feel the spark with them.
“I still don’t understand why you hate these things so much” I commented out loud.
Big mistake.
Eva spun around in her front seat incredulously. “You’re kidding right? Did you forget the last set of guys I was forced to date after one of these things? Nudniks. You know part of the reason my family threw this huge party is to scratch their matchmaking itch.”
“Come on. They’re only doing what they think is right and best for you. Settling down may not be the worst thing to happen to you” Latisha began softly.
“Well then maybe they don’t know what’s best for me. I mean honestly, I see the look of anxiety you have on your face every month as you come home to face the in-laws” glowered Eva.
A temporary look of defeat crossed Latisha’s face. The ferocity in Eva’s eyes dimmed a little. “I’m sorry. That was harsh. I know you love Vivek. But maybe love, marriage and all that just isn’t for me.”
“Everyone needs some love. Its what makes the world go round,” Anya’s small voice spoke up. Everyone stopped talking, each of us looking for the right response.
Before anyone could reply, the cab stopped outside a large, brown-bricked house.
“Showtime” grumbled Eva.
And indeed it was. We’d all made an effort for the occasion, with Latisha acting as our fairy stylist generously sharing her high heeled goodies, since our own tastes were way too loud for such an event. Eva’s family was orthodox and out of respect for them we’d all decide to dress a little more…Tish-esque.
I wore a pair of grey slacks and a half sleeved black silk shirt with Latisha’s classic black suede pumps. Anya looked like an angel in a knee length, white crochet dress, coral cashmere sweater and borrowed girly, light coral heels. Latisha wore a flowy, emerald green skirt with a cream coloured blouse and her signature nude shoes.
But Eva stole the show. She was dressed in a wrap around long sleeved navy blue dress that showed off the right amount of curves and Latisha’s pristine white stilettos. Her hair lay in perfect curls around her face and around her neck she wore a simple strand of pearls. Classy but striking and chic; just the way we knew her.
We rang the bell and Eva shifted beside us restlessly. We could hear the music and loud laughter from within.
The door opened and Mrs Goldstein’s petite frame and smiling face appeared.
“Hi girls! Just in time! Oh its so good to see you!” she ushered us in, giving each one a tight hug as she did so. She was a perky and sweet woman, full of joie de vivre; always chatty and friendly when we met her.
I thought I saw a flutter of emotion on Eva’s face as her mother squeezed her. But it was gone just as quickly. “Hi Ma. Where are the rest?”
A gruff voice behind us answered Eva’s question, “Out back. But aren’t you gonna give me a hug first?”
Eva’s face lit up as she turned around and ran to the tall, greying man and embraced him in a hug. Mr Goldstein was one of the few people his daughter expressed her feelings for. And as the youngest, she had always been his princess. I felt a slight jab in my side watching them interact. A father figure is something I had never known but always craved.
We followed the Goldsteins to their backyard where a beautiful tent had been set up. We hung our coats and jackets on the rack and Eva drifted towards the rest of her siblings, which included her older sister Becky, three brothers and their spouses. Everyone exchanged hugs and all the kids crowded around their favourite taunte Eva.
Leaving her with her family, the three of us made our way to the food and drinks. At least the one good thing about these functions was the abundance of alcohol. Anya and I grabbed a glass of white wine each while Latisha opted for a diet soda.
“Can you believe our Eva could have been one of them?” asked Latisha.
“One of who?” I asked between sips.
She glanced towards a group of young women each one impeccably dressed, in conservative Jewish fashion. Sporting dark knee length skirts, blousons, cardigans and fashionable head wear; each woman juggled a couple of kids each.
“There’s no way!” Anya exclaimed.
“Well if her family had its way…” Latisha trailed off.
“Speaking of…” I nodded my head towards the couple approaching us.
Mr. and Mrs. Choudhary had always been one of the most elegant couples I knew. Both were short and quiet but beaux esprits; full of intelligent conversation once you got to know them. I watched as Latisha went to them and gave them tight hugs. They walked towards us. Anya and I quickly downed our wine, knowing the Choudharys didn’t see alcohol too favourably, and definitely not “women of a certain age”
drinking it.
“Good afternoon ladies. Aren’t you the prettiest girls in the room?” greeted Mr Choudhary with a warm smile.
They gave us quick kisses on the cheek and we fell into comfortable conversation about work and the city. The Choudharys were academics and appreciated education and hard work – apparent in their upbringing of Latisha.
“Sweetheart, where’s Vivek? I don’t see him anywhere?” Mrs Choudhary asked Latisha, scanning the crowd.
Latisha smiled shyly and looked away, “He’s away for work Mummy. He left after our dinner late Friday night.”
I smiled. Even though they’d been dating for ten-ish years, the mere mention of Vivek’s name could still make her blush. It was like puppy love that had never matured. Or as Tish liked to call it - good manners. She always claimed that it was considered bad manners for a proper lady to flaunt her relationship in public. I snickered to myself as I listened to their quiet conversation. Knowing Latisha she probably wouldn’t flaunt it in private either.
Behind us we heard the rhythm pick up and the volume increase. People rose from their seats and starting forming circles on the dance floor. And in the middle of the circle were Eva and Noa, bouncing and laughing to the music. Noa looked like the prettiest little angel in her white gown and trademark Goldstein reddish-brown curls and bright blue eyes. Oh yeah, she was going to be a heartbreaker alright.
I noticed a group of young men hanging out near the dance floor. Good looking, young men. There was one in particular; tall, lean with brown hair, and green eyes behind glasses that seemed to keep glancing interestedly in Eva’s direction. But she seemed oblivious to it all. Typical.
Eva’s gaze met mine and she started waving madly, signalling for us to join them. I grinned and waved back, indicating that we were coming. If only Eva could be this joyeuse and carefree all the time.
Before I could break Anya and Latisha away from the Choudharys, Eva came running towards us.
“Come on guys! What are you doing here on the side lines?” she managed between her short breaths for air.
Anya laughed. “Well aren’t you a vision.”
“We were just catching up with my parents” Latisha explained, equally amused.
“Oh hello! I didn’t see you there. How have you been?” We watched Eva exchange hurried greetings with Latisha’s parents. After some polite conversation, she started pulling at us again.
“Alright, we wont keep you girls. Go ahead and start practicing early for Latisha’s wedding!” laughed Mr Choudhary.
“Papa…” Latisha began to protest.
But before anyone could reply, Eva grabbed our wrists and we were quickly embraced by the spinning circles of dancers.
7 – ANYA
“Mon Dieu! I need a proper foot massage. And maybe a pedicure with it” groaned Aimee as she rubbed the soles of her feet.
Latisha, Aimee and I sat around one of the pretty round tables set up. We’d been dancing for the greater part of the afternoon and were absolutely exhausted as the sun set around us. Eva had been right, I had clearly needed a change of scenery. There had been a number of single guys who had been more than glad to accompany us on the floor and make polite conversation off the floor. Although I knew not one of these guys were my type, they had helped take my mind of my recent breakup with Liam.
I watched as one of the guys slowly made his way towards Eva, who was still dancing with her family. I had noticed him earlier and couldn’t help but feel like he’d been watching her all afternoon. Good for her. With his muscular figure, soft brown hair and green eyes; he was quite the stud.
I watched as he slowly approached her from behind and lightly tapped her on the shoulder. As she turned around the look on the face was priceless. Her jaw dropped open and her flailing arms froze mid air.
Eva Goldstein.
Fordham Law School’s Moot Court Winner and Trial Ad’s prized interrogator. My best friend that always knew what to say…. Shocked, frozen and speechless.
I watched as the guy’s lips curved up into a smile and Eva regained consciousness. She almost looked angry. She recognized him and she definitely wasn’t happy to see him.
Oh dear. I sensed trouble
I slipped on my borrowed coral stilettos and made my way towards my friend. She didn’t look the least bit happy.
“What are you doing here?” I heard her demand.
“Is this how you always talk to people? I would think Mr. and Mrs. Goldsteins daughter would have better manners than this,” the young man teased.
“Oi! This is the way I treat all judgmental, shmoozing men…” countered Eva.
I watched as Becky joined the circle.
“Oh good you’ve met! This is my sister Eva. Eva, this is Daniel Hartman. Daniel is our neighbour and he’s also a lawyer in the city. Daniel, my sister is one of the rising stars in criminal defence,” Becky praised.
“So you’re the one I can thank for my wallet getting nicked?” Daniel smiled mischievously.
This wasn’t good. Eva enjoyed a good joke but not where it concerned her faith in the criminal justice system and rehabilitation. And I’d know best having spent years arguing with her on the matter.
“You probably deserved it” she replied tightly. I could tell Eva was trying her best to hold her tongue, especially with her sister around.
Daniel laughed. It was one of those captivating, deep, contagious laughs. I smiled. I couldn’t help but notice the colour rising in Eva’s cheeks. She was affected by it too. Negatively or positively; I wasn’t sure.
Becky noticed me standing there. “Anya! How are you? Having a good time?”
“Hey Becky! Congratulations on the beautiful party! How have you been?” I stepped forward and greeted Eva’s sister with kisses on each cheek. Becky was fun and loving and had treated me like a younger sister ever since I’d known Eva. “Hi, I’m Anya, Eva’s roommate” I introduced myself to Daniel, intrigued by this handsome mystery man that clearly seemed interested in my friend.
Daniel shook my hand and smiled warmly, ”I’m Daniel, a good friend of the Goldstein family. Well almost all the Goldstein family” he added with a wink towards Eva.
I could almost see the steam blowing out of Eva’s ears. I giggled. This was good. If Eva could drag us here, we were definitely going to enjoy the show. And I knew it was going to get better as I noticed the older Goldsteins approaching.
“Danny boy! Where are the folks?” exclaimed Mr Goldstein slapping him on the back.
“Mazel Tov Mr. Goldstein! They’re over there chatting to your sons,” he gestured towards a group standing not too far away.
“Ah good. Well have you met my little princess Eva? Did you know she’s also a lawyer in the city?” hinted the old man.
“Pa!” Eva whined.
Daniel laughed again. “Yes indeed I have. I must say; your little princess is certainly charming.”
Eva continued fuming silently.
I slipped away from the group knowing that Eva wasn’t in any sort of trouble. For now, my brain warned. I knew the signs when I saw them and this was a definite set up in progress. Well the Goldsteins were in for a fight if they thought their princess was going to succumb that easily. I shook my head and smiled to myself as I walked back towards Latisha and Aimee.
“What are you so giggly about?” inquired Latisha still flexing her toes.
“Eva’s parents and their latest efforts at getting their baby girl hitched” I filled them in on the exchange. “I almost feel sorry for them. Don’t they know Eva well enough to know she’s never going to go along with this?”
Aimee turned around to study the group surrounding Daniel and Eva.
“Sex-y! I wouldn’t mind being set up with him!” she whistled.
“Yeah but you’d probably object to the strings that comes along with the ‘sexy’ package” I teased.
She agreed. “Oh. True. Well it’s a good thing I have Ezra.”
Latisha laughed. “How is that going a
nyway?”
“Great! He’s so sweet and stable and dependable. He makes me feel safe compared to…” Aimee trailed off.
“I’m glad. Stability is important for all lasting relationships” Latisha filled in kindly. No one liked talking about Jed. It always upset Aimee. Partly because we knew she still missed him deep down inside.
The sound of hushed whispering and snickering interrupted our conversation. We turned around to locate the source. A couple of young women were pointing towards our shoes and shaking their heads. I strained to hear parts of their conversation.
“$500 a piece at the least!”
“…Five inch heels…”
“So impractical…”
“I think they’re criticising our taste in shoes,” I observed.
A scowl crossed Aimee’s pretty face. “They’re ones to comment. So avant-garde with their boring, ugly, black flats and box heels.”
“Come on now. They’re mothers. They need something more comfortable” Latisha reasoned.
Aimee gasped. “Arretes! You’re insulting us! Don’t tell me you’re going pull a switch on us too once you’re married? Marriage and reproduction are no excuse for bad taste in footwear.”
Latisha laughed. “Not at all. I’m too loyal to my heels. I’m just saying. Some people find it expensive and frivolous and would prefer to spend the money elsewhere. I know a lot of women like that.”
“That’s fine and we don’t judge them for it. But that doesn’t give them the right to judge our choices. People don’t get told off for buying expensive handbags or having too many kids. We don’t judge married women for wearing granny panties and not taking any pride in their appearance just because they’ve lost interest in looking presentable. I think they’re jealous because somewhere our heels represent our freedom to be carefree and spend and wear as we wish – something they’ve lost.” Aimee argued.
“Alright, alright. Put your claws away and get off your soapbox,” I joked trying to diffuse Aimee’s anger. Unless mollified, she was known to speak her mind and this was neither the place nor the time. “We get the point and you’re too properly dressed to get into a catfight with those that don’t.”