The Kiddush Ladies

by Susan Sofayov

  ***

  “Naomi,” Miriam’s mother said. “Stop moving or you’re going to be wearing pins and not a dress.”

  Naomi forced her feet to stop moving as Mrs. Gold pinned the side of the dress.

  “Naomi, if you would grow boobs, we wouldn’t have to sit through this,” Becky said.

  “Hush, Becky,” Mrs. Gold shot back. “Naomi looks beautiful in this dress.” She patted Naomi’s backside. “You don’t need big breasts to be sexy. And, you have lovely shoulders.”

  “So, true, Mom,” Miriam said, glancing down at her own underwhelming mountain range.

  “I guess, you’re right,” Becky said. “For a junior to get asked to the prom by the most gorgeous guy in the entire school must say something for flat chests.”

  Naomi stood quietly as the blood rushed to her face. The strapless dress had a satin base with a lace overlay, but it was the satin ribbon angled across the hips that attracted her to the dress. For some reason, when she put it on, she felt taller.

  “Yes, Aaron Brenner is a very handsome young man. And he’s Jewish,” Mrs. Gold said, shooting a stern look at Becky. “Turn around, Naomi. I need to pin the hem. This color is beautiful on you. Salmon brings out the gold in your eyes.”

  Becky accepted an invitation to the prom from a non-Jewish boy. Her mother tried to stop her, but stubborn Becky insisted that she was going.

  In barely a moment, Mrs. Gold completed the hem. “Next,” she said, turning to Becky.

  Becky stood, lifting layers of tulle. Understatement was not her style.

  ***

  The ringing of the bells hanging over the tailor’s door pulled Naomi back to reality. She had forgotten about Becky’s rebellion-against-Judaism period. Times really do change.

  ***

  Becky

  Becky stared at the Jewish calendar lying open on her desk. Passover fell early this year--only four weeks away. Another square on the calendar, blackened with magic marker, screamed at her that the wedding was only two weeks away. She looked up when she heard her office door creak open.

  Noah walked in and sat in the chair usually reserved for divorcing people. Still wearing his coat, he crossed his arms over his chest. “What the hell, Mom? Forty-five minutes late for the shower.”

  He looked so handsome, so grown up. Where did time go? Becky looked at his face. Who’d have imagined she and David could create such a beautiful creature?

  “I want an answer.”

  “Noah, why don’t you and Maria just live together for a while? Everyone does it now. It’s no big deal. If it doesn’t work out, you won’t have to go through an ugly divorce.”

  Noah leaned back into his chair and shook his head. “Mom, listen to me. Maria and I don’t believe in living together before marriage. Thanks to you for drilling that into my head since middle school.”

  Becky stared down at the mocking calendar. He’ll be enslaved to a shiksa two weeks before the Jewish celebration of freedom.

  “Look at me.” He leaned forward and his eyes bore into her face. “I’m not snubbing my Jewish heritage. I was born a Jew and I will die a Jew. But I love Maria, and I don’t want to live any life that doesn’t include her.”

  “Fine,” Becky murmured. “But your children won’t be Jewish,” she whispered.

  The comment was loud enough for him to hear. “Mom, she’s agreed to raise the children Jewish. They will go to the synagogue and suffer through Hebrew school like every other Jewish kid.”

  “Reform, Hebrew school.”

  “Hopefully, they will be accepted into a conservative Hebrew school. But if not, yes, our future children will attend a Reform program.”

  A vision of three beautiful children running through a meadow flipped a switch inside Becky’s brain. “Stop it, Noah.” She pounded the desk with her fist. “You know damn well that going to synagogue and Hebrew school doesn’t make them halachically Jewish.”

  “They can be converted by an orthodox rabbi. That’s not a big deal.”

  “Yes, it is! What if they decide they don’t want to be Jewish?”

  Becky buried her head into her arms and gave into her sobs. Noah rose from his chair. She glanced up, watching him hesitate for a moment--looking at the door and then back at her. He shook his head as he walked around the oversized desk and placed a hand on his mother’s shoulder. “I’m not marrying her to hurt you. I’m marrying her so I won’t hurt me.”

  Becky sat up and reached for the tissue box usually reserved for the dumped and deserted.

  “Maria and I are not taking this lightly. We’ve discussed religion more times than I can count. Her religion isn’t important to her. She’s a lousy Catholic.” Noah stroked his mother’s back. “Mom, Maria promised me that she would even attend services with us.”

  “Then why doesn’t she convert?” Becky asked, turning her head to look at his face.

  He didn’t answer, just turned and returned to the chair on the other side of the desk. Instead of sitting, he stood behind the winged back, his hands resting on the top. “Maybe she will someday, but it’ll be her choice. I won’t pressure her to do it.”

  “I wish I could be happy for you. If she was Jewish, I’d throw the most fabulous wedding this town has ever seen. But now you’re having a wedding that I don’t even want to attend. It’s wrong.”

  He rolled his neck and inhaled. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I thought if you two spent some time together, you would see how wonderful she is."

  “I’m not stupid. I saw that the first time you brought her home. This isn’t personal. She’s exactly what I would have picked for you, except Jewish.”

  “Mom, that’s nice to hear.” He released his grip on the chair. “Because she spends most of our time together crying about how much you hate her. Could you please tell her what you just told me?”

  The air entering her lungs felt as if it would suffocate her, her chest felt tight, and her heart pounded against her ribs. She managed to nod, but even while doing it, she knew she could never repeat her words to Maria.

  “And I need you to promise not to make a scene when you see Aunt Miriam at the wedding.”

  “She’s not your aunt,” Becky snapped.

  “That’s funny. For my entire life you referred to her as my aunt. Now, you’re upset, so she isn’t my aunt. As far as I’m concerned, she is and always will be. So, if you can’t be nice to her, stay on the other side of the room. I think this battle between you two is stupid, but that’s your business not mine.”

  “If you knew the reason, you wouldn’t invite her.”

  “Tell me. What could possibly be so horrific that you cut off your lifelong best friend?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  Noah stepped back from the chair and raised his hands above his shoulders, palms facing his mother. “Mom, all I’m asking is for you to control yourself for the next two weeks and let me get married in peace.”

  Becky, red-eyed and shaking, looked at him. A stranger. The person standing in front of her couldn’t possibly be her son, because her son would never cause his mother this much pain.

  Noah walked back around the desk and kissed her cheek. “I love you, but you have to get over this.”

  Becky sat frozen in her chair. She let the tears roll and wished for her own mother. Not the cheating version of her, but the loving woman who always made her feel safe.

  ***

  Naomi

  Naomi woke to sunshine streaming through the crack between the curtains. She rolled over and threw a hand across Aaron’s back. He made a low guttural sound, rolled onto his side, and pulled her close.

  “Aaron, it’s morning. Ezra will be home in an hour. You have to leave.”

  He gave her his best wounded puppy look and began kissing her neck.

  “I mean it. You have to go home.”

  He flopped onto his back. “I have a better idea. I’ll get dressed and clean-up this room. You go downstairs and make pancakes. When Ezra walks in
, it will look like I just came for breakfast.”

  Naomi started laughing and hit him with a pillow. She whipped the blankets off of him and started pushing him to the side of the bed. “He’s young, not stupid. Get up.”

  Aaron finally gave in and got up. “I don’t like being kicked out of bed after sex.”

  “Do you want me to kick you out before sex?”

  “Do we have to play this game forever?” he asked, tugging his jeans over his hips. “Thirty years ago, we hid from our parents, now we hide from your son.”

  Naomi wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “Not forever--just until he goes to college in six and a half months.”

  He threw his head back and groaned. “Ezra really should be spending more weekends with his father.”

  Naomi rolled her eyes. “Get out and call me from the car.”

  As they walked down the steps, she couldn’t fathom that she almost pushed him away. The weeks since had passed in a haze of happiness. Aaron accepted the position at Pitt. His official start date wasn’t until May first, but he tried to spend as much time as he could in Pittsburgh. This proved difficult because of his new book on the market. But he made sure that at least one evening of every weekend was spent with her.

  “This Friday, I’m hosting Shabbat dinner. It will be Esther and Lew and possibly Laurie and Dan. Do you think you’ll be able to make it?”

  “What, no Miriam or Becky?”

  Naomi shook her head. “I need a night off. It’s five days until the wedding. If I’m not working, I’m on the phone with one of them.”

  She kissed him goodbye, playfully smacked his backside, and pushed him out the door. Fifteen minutes later, Ezra pulled the car into the driveway. When he walked into the kitchen, she sat casually drinking coffee, engrossed in reading the newspaper on her laptop.

  ***

  Becky

  Before Becky glanced at the screen of her phone, she knew why it beeped. Another text message from Maria’s mother. That woman was driving her insane over stupid things--issues with the caterer, the florist, and seating arrangements. Becky suggested a roomful of picnic tables and deli trays, but Maria’s mother didn’t think it was funny. Instead of replying to the text, she dialed Naomi--voicemail. She left a message asking her to meet for a glass of wine at their normal spot.

  Becky arrived first and looked around the restaurant. Only a few people sat chatting at the bar, and most of the tables were empty. Unusual for 5:30 on a Wednesday for a place known for its after-work crowd. The hostess escorted her to a table for two against the wall in the back.

  Becky watched Naomi approach the table and gave her a slight wave. Beautiful Naomi. Becky remembered the nights she wished she could look like her. But what Naomi had in physical beauty, she lacked in self-confidence. Becky shook her head. Kind, gentle, smart, and beautiful, if Naomi only could see it in herself.

  “Why are you shaking your head?” Naomi asked as she slid into the chair.

  “Was I? I didn’t even realize it. I was thinking about you.”

  Naomi’s eyes widened.

  Becky leaned back into the soft leather upholstery, her eyes fixated on Naomi’s face. “I wish you had more self-confidence. You should be writing, not typing for that creepy boss of yours.”

  Naomi ordered a cabernet. “Have you been talking to Aaron? He’s been pushing me to start writing again.”

  “No. I haven’t spoken with him since the last time he was at shul. But he’s right.”

  “Becky, I just can’t find any words, believe me, I’ve tried.”

  Becky locked a stern gaze directly into Naomi’s eyes. “Try harder.”

  Naomi shook her head as the waiter set the wine glass in front of her. “I sit at my computer and stare at the screen. My mind’s blank. Then I just feel disgusted with myself and walk away.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen if you walk away.” Becky leaned forward, crossing her forearms on the table. “Wait a minute, I just remembered something. You never wrote while sitting in front of your typewriter. You always said that you wrote your stories while you ran. Take up running again. The stories will come back.”

  Naomi cocked her head. “You’re right. I forgot all about running and writing. I did write entire stories in my head and typed them up when I got back to the dorm.”

  “That settles it. When this wedding is over, I’m taking you to Dick’s Sporting Goods and buying you a new pair of running shoes. Nikes will kick start your new career.”

  “Maybe I should start with walking shoes. It’s been years since I ran. My knees aren’t so great.”

  “Fine, you can walk and write.”

  They clinked glasses, both smiling.

  Between sips of wine, they ordered appetizers. When David called, Becky told him that he was on his own for dinner.

  The evening felt like a pre-life-crashing-disaster evening with Naomi, relaxing and easy. They talked about Aaron and gossiped a bit about Jake’s sexual tastes. It was a relief to talk about something other than the damn wedding. But that changed as they walked out of the restaurant.

  “The wedding is only days away. Are you ready?” Naomi asked.

  Standing on Murray Avenue, Becky broke down and told her about Noah’s visit to her office and how he made her promise to be nice to Maria. “And he made me promise not to make a scene over Miriam. I can’t deliver on that promise.” Becky shook her head and clenched her fists. “In fact, I can’t deliver on either promise. That’s it! I’m not going to the freaking wedding.”

  “Stop talking like that,” Naomi said. “You’re starting to sound crazy. Of course, you’ll be at your son’s wedding, and you can deliver on those two simple promises.”

  Steam shot through Becky’s veins. “Why is it you don’t understand? Miriam and Maria have crushed my world.”

  “Becky.” Naomi placed her arm over her shoulder. “Nobody crushed your world. You’re doing this to yourself. Please, think about what you’re saying. Maria will be Noah’s wife and your daughter-in-law. Can’t you rake some kindness out of your heart?”

  Becky hesitated for a few heartbeats and stared at the ground. “Fine, I’ll tell Maria it’s not personal, but I cannot and will not stand in the same room as that evil son stealer. It’s either her or me, and he picked her.”

  Naomi removed her arm from the shoulder hug, turned, and clamped both of Becky’s shoulders. “Stop it! Do you hear yourself? He’s your son. Your only son! Where are you getting this ‘he picked her’ shit? Listen to me, I’ve had it with all of this bullshit. Noah loves you--Miriam loves you. You’re torturing them. They’ve done nothing to hurt you. This insanity exists only in your head. Do you hear me?” Sweat dampened Naomi’s hairline and tears streamed down her cheeks, but she kept her grip on Becky’s shoulders.

  “No, no,” Becky said, shaking her head and clenching her fists.

  “Listen to me.” Naomi locked gazes with her. “Maria started studying Judaism in Squirrel Hill months ago. They didn’t want to tell you until she makes her final decision. The girl is really trying. And Noah has been meeting with Rabbi Morty for months. Noah isn’t throwing away his heritage. This can all work out if you just shut up and play nice.”

  Becky froze in her spot. The sounds of the street faded into the background. The only sound she heard was the echo of Naomi’s words in her mind. Maria is studying to convert? Noah’s meeting with Morty? “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

  “Better to let you believe she’s going to remain Catholic. Noah figures if Maria goes through with the conversion, you’ll be elated. But if she decides against it, you won’t be devastated.” Becky nodded. Naomi sighed. “Besides, it’s their life. I’m not even supposed to know any of this, but you know how fast gossip travels through our small group.”

  “She’s going to convert,” Becky mumbled to herself. The tension in her neck released and, for the first time in months, the vise compressing her rib cage loosened. She felt lighter. She lunged forward,
squeezing Naomi in a bear hug. “Thank you.”

  “You will not let on that you know about any of this. Do you hear me, Becky? Not a single word.”

  Becky fumbled with her car keys. A huge smile covered her face.

  “I repeat--you will say nothing or do anything that would indicate you know she’s studying with a rabbi.” Naomi’s face facial expression made it very clear that she was expecting a promise.

  Becky nodded again. “I promise.” She hugged Naomi, said good night, and then floated to her car, repeating to herself over and over, She’s converting. God does listen.

  The minute she sat down in the driver’s seat, she pulled out her phone and dialed David.

  ***

  Naomi

  The smell of cilantro and rosemary chicken permeated Naomi’s first floor. She and Ezra worked together. Well, actually, she worked, and he tried to talk her into letting him taste the chicken soup and the fish. She was attempting to recreate Esther’s spicy fish recipe, which was proving difficult because Esther never measured. “Dump in a little hot paprika, add a half a palm full of cumin and some sweet paprika.”

  Naomi figured the trick was to find a balance between too spicy and not spicy enough, which was proving to be difficult with Ezra adding more hot paprika when he thought she wasn’t paying attention.

  “Ezra, I’ll let you taste the fish, if you stop messing with it and start chopping vegetables for Israeli salad.”

  “Deal,” he said before trotting over to the fridge. He reached in and grabbed tomatoes, cucumbers, green peppers, and scallions.

  She watched him set up his chopping station and was overtaken by the urge to hug him.