The Kiddush Ladies

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The Kiddush Ladies Page 25

by Susan Sofayov


  “You’re supposed to be my best friend--like sisters--remember? I guess you don’t remember because if you did, you wouldn’t have told both of them.”

  As Naomi planned her words, the phone went dead in her ear. She stood in the doorway, still holding the phone to her ear for a couple of heartbeats.

  “With all due respect,” Aaron said, “I think she needs real help, not husband or friend help but the kind that sits in offices, holding clipboards.”

  As he spoke, Naomi walked back to the bed and sat down. The room went silent. Aaron shifted on his feet. She flung herself backward onto the bed, arms flapped open to her sides, staring at the ceiling.

  He was right. How did you support a friend through a situation that didn’t really exist? Naomi loved Becky like a sister. In fact, most of the time she felt closer to Becky than she did to her real sister. But how could a smart woman like Becky get stuck in such a bizarre obsession--stubbornness, pure pigheaded obstinacy. The same trait that made her such a good lawyer was pushing her into an abyss.

  “All I want is to spend the day in bed with you, but may I request an hour, possibly two to take care of some unfinished business. You can stay in bed and read or play on your phone. That way, the bed will be warm when I come back.” The thought of cooking breakfast with him made her giddy like a twenty-year-old college girl all over.

  He sat down on the bed, reached over, and ran his finger slowly down the inside of her arm. The small act sent shivers from her head to her toes. “You’re going to her house.”

  Naomi closed her eyes and nodded. He slowly drew his finger back up her inner arm.

  “Let me come with you--moral support and all that other stuff your...” His voice trailed off for a moment. “...your significant-other-slash-possible-future-husband is supposed to provide.”

  Holy hell--what did he just say? Her brain froze. Did he just almost propose? She sat up, and he laid his arm across her shoulder.

  “But if you need to do it alone, I understand.”

  When he spoke the word “alone,” her brain snapped back on. Deal with Becky now, think about Aaron later. She kissed him deeply. “Alone.”

  He nodded.

  “But if I’m not back, or you don’t receive a text from me within two hours, come rescue me.”

  He kissed her. “I will pound on the door until she opens it.”

  “I wish I could get rid of the awful image replaying itself in my head,” she said.

  “What image,” he asked.

  “Becky charging at me, wielding a pair of sewing scissors.”

  “You really are a writer. Kiss me before you leave.”

  ***

  Becky

  From upstairs in the bathroom, Becky heard the doorbell ring. “David, answer the door,” she shouted as loud as possible.

  “I got it.”

  The melody of the bell made her so happy. After the horrible phone call with Naomi, she needed something good to happen. She knew Noah and Maria wouldn’t leave for their honeymoon without stopping to say goodbye. She walked over to the top of the steps. “Is it Maria and Noah?” she called out to David, but didn’t wait for his answer. “Tell them I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  Becky ran the brush through her hair with her left hand and attempted to apply lipstick with her right. Dumb idea, she missed the natural line of the left side of her lip. She yanked a tissue from the box and swiped at the mess, refusing to look like one of those old ladies Miriam dubbed pre-school dropouts because they thought coloring outside the line made their lips look fuller. She pulled on her jeans, shaking off the thought of Miriam, grabbed a clean top from the closet, and trotted down the steps.

  Noah and Maria weren’t waiting in the kitchen. Instead, she saw Naomi engrossed in a conversation with David.

  “Why are you here?”

  David jumped in before Naomi could respond. “She’s here because she loves you and worries about you.”

  “I’m fine. You can go home now.”

  “No, you’re not fine. You haven’t been yourself since Rosh Hashanah. This obsessing over your mother’s affair has to stop.”

  “I’m not obsessing. I’m just pissed off that you went behind my back and blabbed about my mother’s business.” Becky pointed her finger at Naomi. “Miriam’s been a horrible gossip since we were kids, but I expected better from you. You betrayed me.” Becky’s face flushed with anger. Her hands quivered.

  “I betrayed you by telling Esther and Laurie? They’re your friends.” Naomi emphasized each word. “Wonderful, caring friends who’ve spent the last months worrying about you and your bizarre behavior.”

  “What bizarre behavior? How would you act if that bitch deceived you for almost thirty years? Would you be all supportive of her if she cursed your son?”

  “Give me break, Becky. Miriam has the heart of an innocent child. She’s incapable of cursing anyone or anything.”

  “Bullshit. My son married a shiksa because she cursed him, and you know it’s true.”

  “This bizarre behavior,” Naomi shouted, throwing her arms into the air. “Miriam did not curse Noah. She did not hide the affair from you. The only crime she committed was caring enough to bend over backward to make you forgive her for something she didn’t do. The woman paid thousands of dollars to send your son on a honeymoon to Israel. The Holy Land, Becky! The place every Jew dreams of seeing. She shelled out the money to make you happy. You dumb ass, she loves you.”

  “She just wanted to flash her money.” Becky spat the words.

  Naomi leaned forward and placed her forehead on the cold granite countertop.

  “She knew about the affair.” Becky shook her head. “She knew all along.”

  Naomi looked up at Becky. “So what if she did? It wouldn’t have changed anything. She couldn’t have stopped them.”

  Becky rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

  “Becky, your mom had an affair. She loved two men and it tortured her. And we’ll never know what caused her to do what she did, but you have to forgive her and let her rest in peace. Your mom was a good woman.”

  “Of course she was. Miriam’s slimeball father seduced her.”

  “You need professional help.” Naomi stood and stepped toward Becky. “You need therapy or drugs. I’m telling you this as a lifelong friend who’d go into battle for you--the real you--the crazy, fun-loving, caring girl I grew up with. I don’t know this irrational being inhabiting your head. Please, let me find a therapist to help you.”

  “Get out!” Becky stepped forward, closing the distance between her and Naomi. “Get out.” She lunged one foot forward and shoved Naomi, sending her stumbling backward.

  ***

  Naomi

  Naomi’s eyes bulged as she tried to recover her balance and steady her legs, but her brain revved in overdrive. Insanity, this behavior was absolute insanity. Last night, Becky smacked Miriam. Today she shoved her. Naomi picked up her bag and walked out the front door, slamming it behind her.

  The walk back to her house took five minutes. She returned to her kitchen exactly a half-hour after she walked out. Aaron stood at the stove wearing the tuxedo pants and an apron with a giant bleach spot on the front. Naomi walked over to kiss him and inhaled the aroma of frying potatoes. “Smells good.” She planted a kiss on his cheek and then looked over at the coffee pot, empty. “I’ll start some coffee.”

  “Good, I really need a cup. How did it go?”

  “Not so good.” She ran cool tap water into the glass pot. “She threw me out.”

  He stopped stirring the potatoes. “What?”

  “She’s so far gone, Aaron. She shoved me, like an angry child.” Naomi poured the water into the canister and began measuring the coffee into the filter. “I don’t know her anymore.”

  He lowered the flame under the potatoes, set down the wooden spoon, and hugged her. “Give her a few days to recover from the wedding. I’m sure once she relaxes, she’ll wake up and see how badly she screwed u
p. She’ll come around.” He nuzzled his nose against her neck. “Becky can’t live without her adoring fan, Miriam. And she could never survive without you.”

  ***

  Naomi left Becky multiple voicemails and received no call backs. Finally, she called David.

  “I don’t know what to do either, Naomi. I work so hard to keep her distracted, but then I catch her reading those damn letters again. It’s an obsession, and I don’t know how to make her stop.”

  Naomi heard the pain in his voice. He sounded helpless. “I’ll do anything to help bring her back to her senses. And so would Laurie and Esther, but she shut us out.”

  “She perked up for a few hours after Maria made the big announcement. I hoped with that stress removed, she’d get over this affair bullshit,” he said.

  “So did I.”

  “When we got home from the wedding, I went straight to bed. I don’t know how long she stayed awake, but I know I was sound asleep and felt her shaking me. ‘David, David, wake up. What if she changes her mind? What if she’s lying and doesn’t really want to convert?’”

  Naomi inhaled and closed her eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “That’s the problem, Naomi. Neither do I.”

  Chapter 23

  Naomi

  Naomi dropped Josh off at the bus station on her way to work on Monday morning. He missed two days of classes and faced a pile of work. She kissed him goodbye and told him to have a great time in Florida with his dad and grandmother. Just before he closed the door, she promised to drive out to Penn State with Ezra and Aaron soon.

  Before she put the car into drive, she watched through the rearview mirror as he passed through the doors into the station. Sometimes, she looked at her sons and became so overwhelmed with love, words didn’t do justice to the feeling. The love didn’t come from her heart or her mind. It seeped from her soul into every molecule of her being.

  She cruised slowly down Grant Street, getting stuck at each red light. No wonder Becky took the bus every day. She glanced ahead--The US Steel Building. Why not one more try?

  It took her fifteen minutes to find a parking place, walk to the building, and push the elevator button. The elevator shot up to the fortieth floor so fast that her stomach fell. By the time the doors opened, she felt light headed. Between her dizziness and the stress of facing Becky, she walked straight to the sofa in the reception area.

  “May I help you?” an older woman with an out of date haircut asked.

  “I’m here to see Becky.”

  The woman turned to her computer and typed before asking, “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No. Just tell her Naomi wants to see her.”

  As the woman dialed, Naomi glanced around the reception area. It had been years since she visited Becky’s office. Her gaze rested, for a moment, on a beautiful oil painting hanging on the side wall. She, Becky, and Miriam spent weeks visiting galleries looking for the perfect piece of art. The shopping part was so much fun. They tried not to like anything, just for the chance to spend another day together at another gallery. In the end, Miriam chose this one and they agreed it was perfect for a law firm.

  “Her office is the second door on the left. She isn’t coming out to greet you.” The woman flashed a smug smile, as if to say “You’re not so important to barge in without an appointment.”

  Becky sat behind a huge desk surrounded by piles of paper that appeared to be piled on top of other piles.

  “You might as well sit down, even though I know what your gonna say.” Becky looked Naomi in the eye--almost defiantly.

  “What can I say? You made a horrible scene at your only son’s wedding. You smacked your best friend across the face and humiliated her. You shoved me out the door like a six-year-old brat on a playground. And based on the look on your face, there isn’t any remorse floating around that brain of yours.”

  “It was her own damn fault. I told her not to come. We’re not going to talk about that bitch today. And you shouldn’t have blabbed to Laurie and Esther. I’m sorry I shoved you.”

  “Thank you. That’s step one. Now what about slapping Miriam?”

  Becky leaned forward. “I said, we’re not talking about her. Let’s talk about the wedding. Wasn’t it perfect? And have you ever seen a bride lovelier than Maria?”

  “She looked stunning. Noah looked stunning and the whole wedding was stunning. Why did you slap Miriam?”

  “Maybe we should have another, more intimate Jewish one after Maria finishes converting?”

  “Why did you slap her?”

  Becky dropped her forehead to her desk. “Stop, just stop.”

  “I understand where all this anger is coming from, but stop hanging it on her. Her pain is just as real as yours. The tangled web your parents were involved in did not include you or Miriam. Did it ever cross your mind that maybe instead of pushing her away, you should be leaning on each other. She loved your mother like her own.”

  “My mother missed Noah’s bar mitzvah and his wedding.”

  “Do you understand how much pain she had to be in to do what she did? Whatever drove her to do it is something we’ll never know. But my guess is it was something deeper, much deeper than loving two men.”

  When Becky lifted her head, Naomi saw tears. “My mother struggled with a lot of things. She always acted happy, but sometimes, when my dad wasn’t home, I heard her crying in her room. One weekend, I was home from college. My dad went bowling on a Saturday night with Al. I heard her crying and knocked on the bedroom door. She actually let me come inside and lay down next to her on the bed. I hugged her. She kept crying and I asked why she was so sad. I’ll never forget what she said. ‘My family died and my babies died. I don’t know why I lived.”

  “Maybe it was survivors’ guilt that made her do it, but we’ll never know. Could you at least meet Miriam for a cup of coffee? I’ll come with you if you want.”

  Becky swiped at her eyes. “I’ll think about it.”

  By the time Naomi walked out the door, Becky had composed herself and turned on her tough lawyer personality.

  ***

  Miriam

  Miriam held the ice pack against her black eye. It hurt but not as much as the pain of embarrassment.

  She stayed in bed all day, with closed eyes, hoping the darkness would relieve the headache pounding against the back of her eyeballs.

  But, instead of relief, all she got was a rerun of the wedding playing in her head. The humiliation was overwhelming. How was she ever going to walk into the synagogue again? Worse yet, the entire Jewish community of Pittsburgh was probably gossiping about her.

  At 5:30, the doorbell chimed and she heard Anita invite Naomi inside. She didn’t feel like getting out of bed. Instead, she texted Naomi to come to her bedroom.

  Naomi was still dressed in her work clothes. “How are you feeling?”

  Miriam shrugged in response. Naomi sat down on the bed and picked up her hand.

  The tears broke through Miriam’s control. “I’m so humiliated. It’s all my fault that Noah’s wedding was ruined by a scene. I should have stayed home.”

  “Stop it. The wedding wasn’t ruined and very few people even knew it happened. I’m just sorry that she hurt you.”

  “Don’t try to sugarcoat it. It was horrible. I bet Noah and Maria never speak to me again. First Becky and now them.”

  “They’re going to come home and tell you all about the amazing honeymoon you bought for them. What Becky did to you was her issue, not yours or theirs.”

  “I’ve tried to make sense of the affair thing, and I’m mad at my father too, but I don’t think Mrs. Greenburg killed herself because of him.”

  “I don’t think so either.”

  “Naomi, do you think Becky will ever get over this and be my friend again?”

  Naomi patted Miriam’s hand and shrugged.

  ***

  Naomi

  Naomi pulled into her garage, grateful the day was ending. All she
wanted was to slip on a pair of blue jeans and watch TV. The morning visit with Becky and the after work visit with Miriam sucked up all the brain energy she could spare. She didn’t even feel like cooking, maybe a pizza would work. It sure would make Ezra happy.

  She settled onto the sofa after calling the pizza place. Usually, Ezra hated to wait, so he would pick it up. But he wasn’t home yet.

  So, the forty-five minutes wait for delivery presented no problem. She turned on the computer and opened her personal email.

  Spam, spam, and then one from Women’s Way Magazine.

  Dear Ms. Feldman,

  We would like to publish your short story “Afternoon Revenge,” in the August issue of Women’s Way Magazine. Attached is the release form. Please sign and return it to the address at the top.

  Sincerely,

  Evelyn Rohm

  Naomi read the words a second time before dialing Aaron.

  “Celebration tonight. I’ll pick you up at seven. Tell Ezra to put on pants that don’t flash his underwear. We’re going someplace fancy.”

  “But I ordered pizza.”

  “We’ll eat it for breakfast.”

  ***

  Promptly at seven, he arrived at the door. Ezra begged out of dinner, lumbering to his room to type an overdue English paper. “Leaving, Ez,” Naomi yelled up the steps.

  “Bye, Mom. Bye, Aaron.”

  Aaron drove to the restaurant where they had their first second-time-around date. He was excited about the story and the opportunity to say “I told you so.” She was anxious to tell him about an idea she had brewing for a novel.

 

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