Dating Kosher

by Greene, Michaela

  I didn’t believe him, but it was nice of him to say anyway.

  * * *

  When I rounded the corner, I almost ran right into Jacob Weinman where he stood along with the rest of the wedding party.

  “Hey there, pretty lady,” he said, a skeevy grin creeping across his face.

  My mouth was open to respond, but before I had the chance, I caught a glimpse of Susan, her smile beaming from ear to ear.

  “Oh, Shosh! You’re here,” she exclaimed, stepping toward me. She was truly a beautiful bride, her dress exquisite and her hair and makeup the perfect complement to the special glow which seemed to radiate from within. “You okay?” Her brow scrunched as she tipped her head back to inspect my wound.

  I nodded, avoiding Jacob’s glance. He looked different from the last time I saw him, but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction by looking at him. Not that it mattered anyway; I was there with Nate, hot guy extraordinaire.

  “And Bev’s dress fits you well enough,” she looked me up and down approvingly. In my peripheral vision, I could see her son doing the same. Yuck. At least Jen had the decency not to even bother feigning interest; she was halfway down the hall reading brochures for tourist attractions.

  “Where’s Dad?” I asked.

  She smiled. “He’s just stepped into the bathroom, I think he’s a bit nervous.”

  As if on cue, Dad came out of the men’s room, clearing his throat. He saw me and his face brightened. I instantly felt bad for causing him extra stress on his wedding day.

  He threw his arms around me, practically crushing me into his chest. “I’m so glad you made it, Shoshanna.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it, Dad,” I said, mindful of his boutonnière and not wanting to crush it, realizing I almost did miss the wedding. I was glad they had talked me into coming. I would have never forgiven myself if I had missed the ceremony.

  He pulled away from me and smiled. But thankfully, before I could turn into a slobbering mess again, the wedding coordinator came around the corner, a scowl on her face. In her left hand was her ever-present clipboard, although now it was decorated with some sort of corsage that matched Susan’s bouquet. I wondered if ‘clipboard corsage’ would be itemized on Susan’s bill. In her right hand was a mini version of Susan’s bouquet: white and peach fragrant roses tied into a bunch with a wide satin ribbon. She leaned toward me and pushed the bouquet into my hand. She smelled like she was wearing eau de Jack Daniels

  She raised her voice to be heard, even though there were only five of us standing in the hallway. Maybe she was seeing double thanks to her coordinator’s little helper. “Okay, people, now that we’re all here, we’re ready to begin. Mr. Rosenblatt, as we rehearsed, you and your daughter are first. Let’s all go to the entrance and I will cue the musicians.”

  What would Dad have done if I hadn’t made it to the ceremony? Who would he have walked down the aisle with? Sure, his walking with me wasn’t exactly keeping with tradition, since the groom usually walked down with his parents. But his father was gone and his mother had enough trouble walking that she wouldn’t have made it down the aisle without struggling. I knew she would be sitting in the front row, beaming.

  Smiling down at me, my dad took my arm, and like obedient little soldiers, we fell into line.

  * * *

  “Mazel Tov!” The crowd shouted as one when Dad stomped on the symbolic napkin-wrapped glass (which I found out later was actually a light bulb – the rabbi confided to me that they were not only cheaper but easier to break) signifying the end of the formal part of the ceremony. All of the guests rose to their feet and broke into a rousing, hand-clapping rendition of Siman Tov, Mazel Tov as Dad and Susan walked hand in hand back down the aisle, both grinning fit to burst. Jen followed behind, looking like she was painfully constipated. And then, before I could protest, Jacob grabbed my arm, leading me behind them.

  I stopped abruptly at the front row, causing Jacob to almost trip, but I didn’t care: there was something very important I needed to do. I untangled my arm from Jacob’s and leaned over to kiss my bubby on the cheek.

  “You look very svelte,” I whispered into her ear.

  She giggled. “Thank you, dear. I can hardly breathe with this girdle.”

  I pulled back and gave her the once-over, nodding approvingly. She winked at me and began to sing and clap with the rest of the crowd.

  Snaking my arm back through Jacob’s I continued down the aisle.

  On the way by, I looked at Nate. He looked cute clapping his hands along with the crowd, although not surprisingly his lips were closed. It was a bit much to have hoped he would know any Jewish songs. But he did look like he was enjoying himself. I caught his eye and gave him a subtle nod toward the lobby. We needed to hit the road and I needed to get away from mouth-breathing Jacob and fast. Nate nodded and winked back, still clapping along.

  Chapter 23

  “I’ve never been to a Jewish wedding before, that was really nice,” Nate said as we pulled out of the Jardin.

  I had to agree. Other than my own pre-wedding drama, the ceremony had gone off without a hitch. No one had tripped down the aisle, no one protested the nuptials (I glared at Jen the whole time, psychically transmitting promises of dismemberment should she open her mouth) and no one forgot or otherwise flubbed their lines.

  Nate and I ended up leaving the hotel a bit later than I had hoped, but it couldn’t be helped. I wanted to make sure I was back well before the buffet got totally picked over. And of course, I would need to be back for the speeches and there was nothing like a rousing hora to burn off some nervous energy, which I had in abundance. But after the ceremony, we had followed Dad and Susan up to the honeymoon suite with a plate of hors d’oeuvres for them and Bev. Dad and Susan promised to keep Bev company, assuring her that they were happy to entertain her in what was supposed to be their first alone time as husband and wife. Traditionally, this was the time to consummate the marriage, but Susan assured Bev that was an old tradition that no one followed anymore. Especially couples who’d already been living together.

  “Your best friend isn’t married?” I asked Nate once we were finally in the car.

  “Huh?” He turned his head to glance over at me.

  “Your best friend. You told me your best friend is Jewish.”

  His brow furrowed as he looked at me for another second before looking back to the road. “Oh, uh…no. He’s not married.”

  I looked out the window, watching the city lights twinkle and silently wished Nate would drive a little faster.

  My stomach grumbled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since I snacked on some microwave popcorn while watching Million Dollar Listing a hundred hours before. It was turning into the longest day I could ever imagine.

  We drove in silence the rest of the way back to my apartment. Nate seemed to be in a funk or deep in thought. Whatever it was, I was too focused on planning out the most efficient use of time once I got into the condo: I needed to dress, slap on some makeup and fix my hair in only minutes to ensure we would be back at the hotel in time to see Dad and Susan introduced and join the crowd in a what was sure to be a rowdy hora. I definitely needed to be in my own shoes for that; a girl couldn’t dance a proper hora in too-big shoes.

  Nate came up to the condo with me despite my protests.

  “It won’t take any extra time for me to come with you. I don’t want to sit in the car and I could use a glass of water anyway,” was his reasoning.

  Not having the time or energy to argue with him and realizing he’d gone above and beyond and I owed him a lot more than a glass of water, I opened the front door and pointed at the couch as I jogged to the bedroom. I grabbed my own pantyhose off the bed where I had thrown them when Nate had first arrived, and pulled the silver dress off its hanger, taking it with me into the bathroom. Armani was lying on the cool tile, sprawled out on his side. I nudged him with my foot to get him out of my way. That’s when I noticed the several drops of blood on the flo
or beside him.

  Berating myself, I hiked up Bev’s dress, grabbed a Kleenex and bent down to wipe up the blood, thinking I must have missed it before Nate had whisked me away to the hospital. But to my horror, as I got closer to my beloved cat, I noticed more fresh blood under him, pooling at his back end.

  “Oh my God, Armani, what’s wrong with you?” I touched his head and he opened his eyes slightly to look at me. He opened his mouth and a faint, ‘meow’ escaped his black lips.

  “Nate! Can you come here?” He had to be an air conditioning guy. He couldn’t be a doctor? A veterinarian? Something useful to me on this, the most stressful day of my life?

  Glancing into the litterbox, I realized it hadn’t been used much in the last few days. How had I not noticed?

  Within seconds, Nate was at my side. “What’s up?”

  “Armani’s bleeding, look.” I pointed at the drops of blood. “Do you know anything about cats?”

  Nate shrugged. “I know they’re not supposed to leak blood for no reason. Can you actually see where it’s coming from?”

  I shook my head. I tried to lift up Armani’s tail, but for the first time, he became very alert, hissing at me.

  I quickly retracted my hand. “Oh my God, he’s never hissed at me before. Something’s wrong.” I glanced at the clock. “In the front hall closet is his pet carrier, can you grab it?”

  Nodding, Nate left the bathroom, duly dispatched.

  “Just hold on buddy, Mommy’s gonna take care of you, somehow.” I stood up and pulled Bev’s dress off over my head, afraid of getting blood on it; Bev was still expecting to wear it once we returned to the hotel. I was able to slip on my robe before Nate returned holding the carrier. Armani, knowing full well that a trip in the carrier always meant a vet visit, made a valiant effort to bolt out of the bathroom, but I was prepared and grabbed him, shoving him unceremoniously into the carrier, head first.

  “MREEEOOOOOOOOW!” His protests were heart-wrenching, but it was unavoidable and for his own good.

  “Okay, take him out there, I’ll be ready in two minutes.”

  Closing the bathroom door, I took a deep breath and wished I kept a stash of valium or other sedative handy in the condo. Even a good swig of booze would straighten me out. Looking in the mirror, I cringed: I looked like shit.

  Booze wasn’t going to help. Instead, I gave myself a little pep talk: “Get yourself together, Shosh.” I took another breath, forcing myself into gear.

  Two minutes later, as promised, I emerged from the bathroom with Bev’s dress in a hanging bag. I had reduced my grooming down to a quick French twist and a couple coats of mascara, dumping the rest of my makeup into my bag should I have time at the hotel later to fix myself up.

  “Wow, you look great,” Nate said. He even sounded like he meant it this time. He automatically picked up the cat carrier and turned toward the door.

  Armani let out another plaintive meow.

  “Thanks, let’s go.” I grabbed my keys and followed him out the door. “This is by far, the shittiest day of my life.”

  “Glad I could be a part of it.”

  I dropped my shoulders and gave Nate a half-smile. “Sorry, that’s not what I meant.” We got to the elevators and I pressed the button.

  “I know. Just not a lucky day for you. Are you always this unlucky? Did you torture babies in a past life or something?”

  “Lots of them, obviously,” I sighed, getting on the elevator and pressing the L button.

  “Just think. It can only get better.”

  I admired his optimism, but couldn’t help thinking that it could also get worse. I wasn’t dead yet. Keeping my thought to myself, I just smiled up at him, thankful, and not for the first time, for his company.

  * * *

  “Okay, I know this isn’t how this is usually done, but I need to drop my cat off. I found him on the bathroom floor, which isn’t strange, but he’s bleeding from God knows where. The problem is that I can’t stay; it’s my dad’s wedding and I’ve already been late for the ceremony. I’ll leave you my Visa, just please take him.”

  I took a breath, digging in my purse for my Visa card, waiting for the receptionist at the emergency vet clinic to comprehend my babbled nonsense.

  “Um, we can’t treat animals without their owners here.”

  Being on the edge of a nervous breakdown, I almost burst into tears. But before I could even open my mouth, Nate stepped in. “I know this isn’t conventional, but really, we will come back right after the wedding. Please…”

  The receptionist fidgeted and looked from Nate back to me. I forced a smile on my face.

  “Just give me a second,” she said before disappearing into the back.

  Nate placed Armani’s carrier on the floor. The waiting room was empty save a middle-aged woman sitting in the corner holding a dog—some sort of wiry terrier. The poor little thing shook like a revved up vibrator set to multiple orgasm speed.

  Poor thing. “What happened?” I asked the woman.

  The woman frowned. “Would you believe he ate my father’s hearing aid?”

  For the first time that day, I was able to laugh. Realizing the gravity of the situation, I covered my mouth with my hand. “I’m so sorry—that’s not funny.”

  Shaking her head, the woman dismissed my laughter. “I thought it was funny too.” She rolled her eyes. “The first time it happened.”

  “Oh my God,” was all I could say.

  “The doctor said it was okay,” the receptionist said from behind me, materializing from nowhere.

  I turned toward her and handed her my Visa.

  She took the card and ran it through the machine. “It’s ninety-nine for the initial consultation and then we’ll reassess after he’s been looked at.”

  I nodded, holding my breath waiting for the approval. The receptionist tried to return my card, but I waved her off. “Keep it, do whatever you need to do. We’ll be back right after the wedding. Thank you so much.”

  “Good luck!” I called to the guardian of the terrier as Nate and I rushed out the door.

  * * *

  We missed Dad and Susan’s introduction. As we jogged through the lobby of the hotel, we could see through the open doors to the ballroom where the large circle of guests was dancing, arm in arm. Hava Nagilah could be heard even in the lobby and those who didn’t dance were on the sidelines clapping. I longed to be in the thick of the dance with my dad and his new wife, but I still had to deliver Bev’s dress.

  “Go, I’ll take the dress up,” Nate said, reading my mind.

  I looked up at him. “Sure?”

  He nodded, taking the hanger from my hand.

  Before I realized what I was doing, I had stood up on my tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks. You’re the best.”

  “Just save a dance for me,” he said and then crossed the lobby to the elevator.

  “I will,” I yelled over my shoulder, afraid I was going to miss the end of the dance. As I entered the ballroom, the band was on the stage to my immediate left. I stopped and beckoned the leader to bend down so I could speak with him. He obliged.

  “Keep this going for a few minutes at least?”

  He smiled and nodded, turning back to his ensemble.

  I skipped over to the moving outer circle of bodies, waiting for the right second to jump in and join. There was a second inner ring consisting of Dad, Susan, Jacob and the ever-miserable Jen moving in the opposite direction. My Uncle Moishe noticed me and nodded, breaking the outer ring so I could join in beside him.

  As I whizzed around the circle, my right arm entwined with Moishe’s and my left with a stranger’s (probably a gentile lawyer, he didn’t seem to know what he was doing, but was giving it the old college try) I felt good. There was nothing quite like a Jewish wedding to cheer you up: you were always guaranteed a good time.

  On my third trip around the dance floor, Susan noticed me and leaned in to holler something at my dad. He looked up, searching
the circle, his eyes finally finding me. He let go of Susan’s hand and reached out to me, not missing a step as he continued dancing. I broke away from the outer circle and moved in where I took his and Susan’s hands.

  The room began to whirl around faster as the song began to speed up toward a big climax. I was breathing heavy already and wondered how some of the older people kept up. Somehow they did, their faces a blur of smiles and open mouths as they sang along with the band.

  Finally, after people began dropping out from exhaustion, the band brought the song to a finale and people stood, clapping and trying to catch their breath. Dad, his chest heaving, leaned toward me and kissed me on the cheek. “I’m so glad you made it back. You look great, honey.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” I said, forcing the words out between ragged gasps. Forget spinning classes, my gym should have hora workouts.

  “Where’s your friend? I’d like to meet him.”

  I searched the crowd, looking for Nate’s tall frame. He was nowhere to be seen. “I’m not sure, he went to take Bev her dress. Maybe he hasn’t made it down yet.”

  “Excuse me, Shosh. Marty, there’s someone I want you to meet,” Susan smiled at me apologetically before she grabbed Dad’s hand, gently leading him toward one of the tables full of people.

  I wasn’t about to stand by myself on the dance floor as the band segued into a waltz, so I decided to see if I could find my date and/or my best friend. As I left the ballroom in search of them, I saw Nate standing in the lobby talking to my grandmother. She held his hand as he leaned his body slightly toward her.

  “Bubby?” I approached them.

  She turned to look at me. “Oh, Shoshie. I took a little tumble on my way back from the bathroom and this young gentleman helped me up.” She looked up at Nate, pure adoration in her eyes. If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn she was swooning.

  “Are you okay?” Leaning over, I took her hand and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Sure, for an old lady,” she touched her hair, making sure it was in place.

  “This is Nate Cooper, Bubby. He’s my…uh…friend.”