Dating Kosher

by Greene, Michaela

  Once we were seated, the waitress brought over our menus. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  Nate nodded at me. I ordered a martini. He ordered a beer. How unexpected, I mused silently as I watched the waitress shuffle off to get our drinks.

  “Hungry?” he asked, scanning the menu.

  I took that as my cue to look at the offerings and nodded, picking up the oversized, laminated menu. Wings, fajitas, potato skins. I thought about the silver sheath I had to fit into on Saturday and cringed at the high fat choices, although my disagreeing mouth watered. What the hell. “Wings, I think. Hot.”

  “Yes you are,” he said, with a cheesy smile that I couldn’t take seriously. I laughed and returned my gaze to the menu, hating that he could make me laugh so easily.

  The waitress returned with our drinks, one in each hand. As she approached the table, she tripped, sending both drinks sailing through the air toward Nate. Instinctively, I ducked down into my seat and watched as somehow Nate managed to catch the sloshing beer mug in his right hand. But the martini glass flew unchecked and pelted Nate in the shoulder, splashing its contents across his face, down his shirt, and into his lap.

  “Oh my God!” the waitress shrieked, staring wide-eyed at Nate. “I’m so sorry.”

  Nate looked at the beer mug in his hand, obviously surprised at how it had gotten there. He raised it to his lips and drank what beer had been left in the bottom, which amounted to about a mouthful. “Well, that was tasty, how about another?” he passed the empty stein back to the waitress who was still gawking. “And maybe a towel?”

  “Oh my God, I’m so, so, so sorry!” the waitress pulled the towel from where it hung on her apron and handed it to Nate.

  “It’s okay, it was an accident,” he said as he wiped martini off his face, “but my friend here is going to need another one of those delicious martinis.” He licked his lips and smiled up at the waitress, handing her the empty martini glass which had landed on the seat beside him.

  The girl stammered something before grabbing the glass and jogging away from the table. I looked at Nate and shook my head. “I can’t believe you didn’t take a strip off her.”

  He shrugged. “What for? It was an accident.” He dabbed at his shirt with the bar towel, the smile still on his face.

  “Because she was a klutz and spilled booze all over you, that’s why.”

  Nate’s smile faded as he stopped mopping up the drink and looked up at me. “She didn’t do it on purpose, what is the point of rubbing her nose in it?”

  I shrugged and turned to watch the waitress returning with two more drinks, this time walking very deliberately, her face red and blotchy. She placed them in front of us, pulled another towel out of her apron and proceeded to mop up the puddles of beer on the table.

  “I’m so sorry about this.”

  Nate shook his head. “It’s okay, accidents happen. I’m just glad I didn’t order a pitcher.”

  The waitress laughed nervously. “Have you decided on what you’d like to eat? It’s on the house.”

  Nate ordered us a large platter of wings and a side of potato skins, claiming that no red-blooded Irishman can eat a proper meal without including potatoes in some form. The food came quickly and steaming hot, not surprising since the waitress had reason to take a special interest in us thanks to the beverage debacle. And it was almost as if Nate was flirting with her. It shouldn’t have bothered me, but no matter what I told myself about how I was not getting involved, it still sort of pissed me off.

  “So tell me why you asked me out only two days before our next date,” Nate said as he dropped the last chicken wing bone into the overflowing basket of discarded bones and used napkins.

  I had finished eating and had been engrossed in watching the trivia challenge on the television over the bar. When he finally spoke, it snapped my attention back to the table.

  “Oh, uh. I just wanted to fill you in on a few things about my family. You know, so you won’t be surprised when you get there.” I fiddled with my napkin. “That and just go over some logistics.”

  His eyes widened as he gingerly tore open the Wet-Nap packet with his sauce-covered fingers. “Wait. I’m not IN the wedding am I?”

  I laughed. “No, nothing like that. Just times to pick me up and that sort of thing.”

  He visibly relaxed. “Okay, shoot.”

  I took a deep breath and tried to ignore them as I began. “Okay, well my family is a bunch of yentas, so I’ve told them that you and I have been seeing each other for a while.”

  Nate looked at me like I’d proposed we run streaking through the wedding ceremony. “Wait, slow down. What’s a ‘yenta’?”

  Oy, this is going to be tough, I thought. “A yenta’s a busybody; someone who has to know everyone’s business and does nothing but gossip. My family is full of them, and they think I’m well overdue for a wedding of my own.”

  “Okay, okay. So: stay head of yentas with stories of recent dates. Check.”

  I smiled. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard after all. “Do you have a tux?”

  He shook his head, frowning. “Is it black tie?”

  Shit. “Optional, but please tell me you have a good suit.”

  He nodded. “Black suit with a silver and black striped tie. Will that do?”

  I thought about my silver dress. “Perfect.”

  “Okay, suit: check. What’s next?” He seemed to be enjoying himself.

  The waitress arrived at the table. “Can I get you anything else?” she asked.

  Nate looked at me, his eyebrows raised. I shook my head. The wings and the guilt-inducing potato skins were more than enough. “Nope, just the bill, thanks.”

  The waitress broke into an embarrassed half-smile. “No bill, this visit’s on us.”

  He looked up at her. “Thanks, and don’t worry about it, I’m practically dry.”

  She took the dirty dishes from the table and turned toward the kitchen.

  Nate pulled out his wallet and took a twenty dollar bill out and put it down on the table.

  I looked down at it as he covered the corner of it with the edge of his beer mug so it wouldn’t blow away. “What’s that for?”

  “Her tip.”

  I snorted. “You’re giving that woman a tip? What for? To reward her for spilling drinks on you?”

  His brow creased.

  “Reward her for spilling on me? No. But give a decent human a tip when her only sin was having an unfortunate accident? Yes. Why does this bother you so much?”

  I couldn’t answer him. Staring at Nate in that moment, I realized I didn’t know why it bothered me so much. I shrugged and grabbed my purse, fiddling in it for something, anything.

  “You shouldn’t let such little things bother you. You’ll give yourself an ulcer.”

  Grabbing a piece of gum from the depths of my handbag, I unwrapped it and popped it into my mouth as though it were the exact thing I was searching for. Glancing at my watch, I was surprised at how late it had gotten; I still had to catch a train home.

  But we weren’t done yet. “Okay, so about this wedding.” Thankful for a reason to change the subject, I looked up at Nate. He was just staring at me. He raised his eyebrows, listening.

  Trying to be delicate, I prefaced my requirements. “My family is a bit over the top, so I’m hoping you will do me one favor.”

  “Besides the favor of actually going to the wedding?”

  I ignored his grin and continued. “They’re going to expect that whoever I bring to the wedding is Jewish.”

  The grin disappeared. “But I’m not Jewish.”

  Emptying the martini glass, I looked at him over its rim. “I know. I need you to pretend.” I held his eyes with my own, communicating the seriousness of my plea.

  Not that it worked. “Not a chance. I’m not pretending to be something I’m not.”

  So much for item number two: transforming air conditioning guy magically into doctor. I continued on item number one.
No reason to get ahead of myself.

  I offered a less dishonest option. “You don’t have to go around telling people you’re Jewish, just don’t correct them when they assume that you are.”

  He was frowning. Obviously uncomfortable with the idea, he just stared at me. Maybe I should have slept with him on Saturday night. That would have sealed the deal.

  “I’ll make it worth your while…” I broadened my smile and winked at him.

  He cocked his head to the side. “What? What are you talking about?”

  Was I going to have to spell it out for him? Sliding off my shoe under the table, I ran my toes up his calf and was rewarded when his eyebrows made a wide arc toward the ceiling.

  “What are you doing?” he scolded, reaching down under the table and pushing my foot away from where it was edging up his thigh.

  I blinked at him, caught in a suddenly very awkward situation. No one had ever turned down my advances before. First Phil, now this. My ego was taking a few too many hits for my liking and I had to fight the tears that had materialized from nowhere. My foot retreated and slid into its shoe, sulking right along with me. “I was just trying to be nice,” I said, sounding like a spoiled teenager even to myself.

  “You’re hitting on me so that I’ll pretend to be Jewish at your father’s wedding?” He didn’t seem pleased. This was not going well. Nate was so not like any man I’d been with before. And finding myself in such a volatile and unpredictable situation was making me very uncomfortable.

  I looked down at where my hands were folded in my lap and shrugged.

  “Shoshanna?” Nate suddenly sounded very much like my Dad. I looked up at him. “You don’t have to try to bribe me. Especially with sex.”

  The tears were pooling, and if I didn’t do something fast, they would erupt from my eyes, rendering me a public moron. I felt like such an idiot.

  “Is it really that important that I be Jewish for your family?”

  Looking up at him, I nodded, forcing the tears away. Other men had melted at the sight of me crying, but that was different; that was when I had deliberately squeezed them out in an attempt to manipulate. But somehow Nate Cooper was pushing all my buttons and I was helpless.

  He sighed. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  I looked up at him, shocked at what he was saying, but thrilled regardless. I wasn’t getting off that easy, though.

  He wagged his finger at me. “But know, Shoshanna, that I’m uncomfortable with it; I’m not in the habit of pretending I’m something I’m not. And also know that I’m doing this as a favor for you because I like you, not because I’m expecting anything in return. And,” he held my gaze with his own, “I will not actively tell people I’m Jewish. Like you said, I will only lie passively and not correct them when they assume I am.”

  Suddenly ashamed of my actions, I nodded. “Thanks,” I said, my voice sounding rough, tripping over a knot in my throat.

  As I looked down at the table, wondering where we’d go from here, he spoke. “Oy Vay, so, how hard can it be to act like a Jew?” My eyes snapped up to his as he went on. “So Shoshanna found herself a nice Jewish boy, kaynahorah? Oy, but he’s no doctor?” He threw up his arms and for a brief second if I’d closed my eyes, I would have sworn my Uncle Sol was across the table from me.

  I laughed out loud. “What? I thought you didn’t even know what a yenta was? How do you know all that?” He did tell me he wasn’t Jewish, didn’t he?

  Nate tilted his head and smiled. “My best friend is Jewish. I hung out at his house a lot. His grandparents lived with them for many years and they spoke a lot of Yiddish. I’ll remind you that I’m not happy about lying,” he said with a pointed look. “But don’t worry, I’ll be able to pull it off.”

  Maybe I should hold out for your best friend, I thought, wondering if it would be rude to ask if he was single and what he was doing Saturday night. “That’s a relief,” I said out loud. “I thought I was going to have to give you the crash course, and it’s getting late.”

  “Nah, I’m good. You could quiz me if you like?” it was a challenge, but sadly one I wasn’t up for. I yawned rudely and shook my head.

  “I’ll take your word for it.” Looking at him across the table, I smiled, deciding in that moment not to broach the subject of his job. Maybe I was already asking too much of him as it was. Although…

  “Oh there’s one more thing,” I bit my lip.

  He tilted his head, waiting.

  “Remember when I said we’ve been dating for some time, now?”

  He said nothing but raised his eyebrows.

  “Seven dates.” I looked up at the ceiling, trying to be nonchalant. “You can’t expect me to take just anyone to my father’s wedding, can you?” I snorted. This entire scam was bordering on the ridiculous, but I was hell-bent on pulling it off.

  “Seven dates? And I suppose you’ve worked out the details of each and every one of these seven dates?”

  Sheepishly I nodded.

  He raised his hand to get the waitress’ attention. When she trotted over to the table, he ordered us another round of drinks, ignoring my protests. The waitress looked from him to me and back again, not sure who to listen to.

  “If I’m going to sit here through seven dates, I need another beer.”

  “I’ve got to get a train home. Couldn’t I send you an e-mail or something?”

  “Please, go ahead,” he said to the waitress, shooing her away to get our drinks. To me, he said, “Don’t worry about getting the train, it’s too late for that. I’m not letting you take a train home alone.”

  Shocked at his audacity, I lashed out. “I’m not sleeping at your place, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  He recoiled in his seat. “Wow, you sure are hot under the collar, Shoshanna. Especially for someone who was playing footsie with me not too long ago. Or are you just a bit of a control freak?” He smiled, obviously liking that I was so off-balance.

  “Well, I’m not sleeping with you,” I said, unsure what else I could say.

  “What I meant, before you attacked my character, was that I would drive you home so that you don’t have to take the train so late by yourself.”

  “Oh.” Oops. That one deserved an apology. “Sorry, it’s just that no guy I’ve known would ever have offered to drive me all the way home.”

  “I’m not like other guys you’ve known, Shoshanna.”

  It was true. I looked up at Nate and smiled. It was very true.

  Leaning back in my seat, I began to tell Nate all about dates two through seven since he already knew all about date number one down at the marina. I hadn’t changed any details of that one; why tinker with perfection?

  Chapter 20

  Friday morning. Rehearsal day. Lying in bed, waiting for the inevitable blast of the alarm, I counted the hours until dad’s wedding: thirty-eight.

  Despite all the drama surrounding the Nate issue and the Mom issue, I was actually very excited. I was going to look stunning in the silver sheath and slingbacks, with a hottie on my arm that was not only great-looking but would pull off an Oscar caliber performance. And of course, I was pleased for Dad, too. Susan made him très happy and I was glad that at least one of my parents could find that kind of happiness.

  But before the ceremony and subsequent party, I would have to get through Friday’s work and rehearsal. With a sigh, I rolled over and turned off the alarm only two minutes before it was scheduled to go off. I closed my eyes to visualize myself in the dress again; pulling up the image of me in the personal shopping salon, twirling around as though I was on the dance floor. But closing my eyes was a dangerous gamble, one I lost; within seconds, I was fast asleep.

  Getting to work forty-five minutes late set the tone for my day. Bianca was pissed she had to cover for me first thing in the morning, pushing her first appointment back. She retaliated by ensuring my bikini wax was as painful as possible (of course, apologizing the whole time). When she moved up to start on my eyebrows, I qu
ickly told her that I had changed my mind and would just pluck them later in the day; I didn’t need her screwing up my face right before the wedding.

  I grabbed the train home and dialed Bev’s number on my cell. I told her all about Bianca’s wrath while she clucked disapprovingly.

  “What time is the rehearsal tonight?” she asked.

  “Six, with a dinner after at the bistro in the hotel. Should be okay.” I looked down at my nails. At least Bianca had done a decent job. She knew better than to screw up too badly on the person who booked the spa’s appointments. If I wanted to I could stop booking her, sending clients to other estheticians in the spa; disaster for someone working on a per service basis.

  “That’s cool. How was last night? Have you primed Nate?” she giggled. She sure was getting a kick out of the whole scenario.

  “Yeah, we’re good. He’s agreed to be Jewish, but I wasn’t able to alter his occupation. It’s a long story.”

  “You’ll tell me about it tomorrow. I want to hear all about it.”

  “Yeah,” I said, looking up as a body glided past, aiming for the seat beside me. Before I had a chance to move my bag into the seat, the woman had planted her ass in it. I glanced over to deliver a dirty look but instead recognized the face as someone I knew. “I gotta go,” I said into the phone before ending the call and dropping it into my purse.

  “Well look who it is!” I said to Susan’s daughter Jen. She had apparently plunked herself next to me without even realizing.

  She faked a smile and nodded at me, obviously not in the mood for conversation.

  “Are you going in for the rehearsal?” I asked.

  She nodded again, looking away from me. I knew she didn’t like me, and believe me, it was a mutual thing. But it was fun winding her up; it was almost like winding up my mom without the subsequent guilt and hurt feelings coming back to haunt me.

  “I thought you weren’t going to the wedding. That’s what your mom said when we went for her last fitting.” I was all smiles.