ENDORSEMENTS
“Naomi, the Rabbi’s Wife, by Miriam Finesilver, is an amazing book and a joy to read. It’s incredibly well written, and the story draws the reader in from the first page. I fell in love with the characters...from Naomi, to Daniel, to Naomi’s counselor Melinda. Even the characters who aren’t so lovable, like the theater producer Gary, are fascinating. I recommend Naomi, the Rabbi’s Wife to anyone who is searching for powerful inspiring literature.”
Rabbi Michael Wolf
Writer-director: The Sound of the Spirit
Author: The Upper Zoo, The Linotype Operator
Naomi, the Rabbi’s Wife combines romance and biblical truth in a Jewish paradigm. Naomi, the heroine, is on a quest for fame and romance in her role as an actress in New York City. She gains a measure of recognition and success, but her relationships suffer from her wrong decisions. Her quest for fame turns into a quest for forgiveness. At that point she meets the rabbi, and her world is turned upside down.
Having been an actress and a script writer, Mrs. Finesilver knows how to develop the characters and increase the tension until the surprising ending. Besides being an excellent novel, this story is made for the screen. The dialogue has depth and humor, and the plot is not predictable but unfolds at the right pace to thoroughly engage the reader. Those who seek out biblical romance novels will love this one. An added bonus is getting an education in Judaism, its biblical observance in modern-day America, and its old-world customs and Hebrew phrases. Messianic Judaism is brought into play also.
I whole-heartedly recommend this book to people of every religious belief.
Nancy Petrey
Author, Musician, Bible Teacher
www.jewishrootsjourney.blogspot.com
Mizpah Tikvah Ministries on Facebook
Miriam Finesilver
Copyright © 2015 by Miriam Finesilver
Naomi, The Rabbi’s Wife
by Miriam Finesilver
Printed in the United States of America.
ISBN 9781498441636
All rights reserved solely by the author. The author guarantees all contents are original and do not infringe upon the legal rights of any other person or work. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the permission of the author. The views expressed in this book are not necessarily those of the publisher.
Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations taken from the King James Version (KJV) – public domain.
www.xulonpress.com
Contents
Part I
Chapter 1September 1977
Chapter 2October 1977
Chapter 3Being Passed Over
Chapter 4Autumn 1978
Chapter 5T’shuvah
Chapter 6Yom Kippur
Chapter 7Feasts of Rejoicing
Chapter 8Dayenu
Chapter 9January 1979
Chapter 10For Such a Time as This
Chapter 11B’sheirt – Soul Mates
Chapter 12“A person may plan his path, but. . .” Prov. 16:9
Chapter 13Holy Matrimony
Chapter 14Accepting the Challenge
Part II
Chapter 15Great Expectations
Chapter 16A Cord (Chord?) of Three Strands
Chapter 17Lord, Bless this Union
Chapter 18Before they call
Chapter 19. . . I will answer
Chapter 20A Time to Speak
Chapter 21Who has believed . . .?
Chapter 22Land of their Longing
Y’shua, Your love would have been enough (Dayenu—it would have been sufficient), but You kindly gifted me with Michael—only the Father of Lights could have brought this man into my life.
Michael, I love you.
PART I
CHAPTER 1
September 1977
Naomi, alone in the elevator for the final fourteen floors, once again practiced her audition piece. “Someone to watch over me . . .” Hearing her voice crack, she mimed holding a gun to her head, pulled the trigger and made a popping sound.
Emerging from the elevator at the twenty-ninth floor, she squeezed past all the other actresses crowding the hallway and walked toward the sign-in desk. Every actress in town must be here today. Great, like I’m really the one who’s going to get the part.
The woman at the desk was busy painting her fingernails a bright red. After an attention-getting cough from Naomi, the woman sighed. “Yes?”
“I’m Naomi Gold. I signed up this morning. Can you tell me how soon you might be calling my number?”
Continuing to apply the nail polish, she asked, “What’s your—?”
“Sixty-eight.”
Running a still-wet fingernail down a checklist, she said, “You’re next.”
“You’re kidding? I thought—”
Immediately the door to the hallowed audition room opened and a plump bleached-blonde young woman slumped out, her mascara streaking down from her tear-filled eyes.
“Next.”
Naomi moved swiftly to the all-important open door, flashing a smile at the curly-haired young man holding it open. At the same moment, a petite brunette carrying a Styrofoam cup filled with coffee rushed to the sign-in desk. Naomi attempted to avoid a collision, but the other actress was running full-tilt. They collided and coffee splashed onto Naomi’s expensive new cashmere sweater
“I’m sorry,” the actress said. Placing the cup on the desk, she reached into her purse.
“That’s okay.” Naomi absentmindedly picked up the half-full cup and entered into the room.
Shutting the door behind them, the young man extended his hand, but Naomi carried the coffee cup in one hand and her portfolio in the other. Since she was trying out for a part in an improvisational group, she might as well start now.
“Hey, figured you must need some coffee by now,” she adlibbed, adding a smile and an intentional shrug of the shoulders.
He peered into the cup. “It’s half empty.”
She pointed her chin to the area where the coffee had stained her right sleeve. “Here’s the other half.”
Having recently seen his picture in the New York Times magazine section, she knew this was Gary Ruben, the show’s director. What am I doing kibitzing with him? I’m such an idiot. Then she heard him chuckle. Whew.
Struggling not to spill the coffee, she reached into her leather case for her headshot.
“Allow me,” he said, taking the cup from her. “I’m Gary.”
“Thank you.” She found his brown eyes warming.
A statuesque raven-haired woman, impeccably dressed in an expensive business suit, rose from her seat and strolled over to receive Naomi’s picture. Turning it over she scanned the resume which was imprinted on the back.
“I’m Gwen Champion, the casting director, and over there,”—she paused and pointed to a corpulent bald-headed gentleman sitting with his back to all three of them—, “is our producer.”
“Thank you.” Spotting the piano player, Naomi retrieved her sheet music from the portfolio and handed it to him. “I’ll give you a signal when to come in with the intro. Pianissimo at first,” she instructed, “and when I start singing, go to mezzo piano.”
He glanced at the three-panel judge and jury with a quizzical look. Maybe her tone had been too assertive. After all, to them she was merely another unknown actress.
Naomi turned toward Gary. “Too much chutzpah, huh?”
“I think I’m getting used to it with you.” He turned toward the piano player. “Steve, do what the lady says.” Taking his seat, he smiled and winked at her.
At that moment, she would have been thrilled to stop everything and simply enjoy spending time with this famous and apparently fun-lo
ving man. But she needed to focus. If she did well such a time may come. She paraded herself to the center of the room, and began her monologue.
“Okay, so you see this ravishing creature, right?” She struck a fashion model’s pose. “Not to shock you, but I wasn’t always so beautiful. Picture this: nine years old.”
She drooped her shoulders, puffed out her cheeks and spread her arms wide apart.
“Chubby would be putting it kindly—Dad called me pleasingly plump, but just between us, I don’t think I really was pleasing to anyone. Then there was the matter of the hair—total frizz—and eyeglasses no less.”
Reaching into the pocket of her skirt, she pulled out an oversized black pair of spectacles. “The only one in my grade who had to wear them. Now, let me tell you about my best friend, Marianne Leibowitz. You got time?”
Gary Ruben nodded, “Go on.”
“Marianne. Perfect size six, hair went into a perfect flip, and to top it off her parents inherit a fortune and move into this absolute mansion. It’s Marianne’s big birthday party at the Leibowitz mansion. In my mind, Dad drops me off not to a party but to an execution.”
Naomi paused to move a finger across her neck, symbolizing her throat being cut. “When you’re fat, got frizzy hair and glasses, you’re a natural shoo-in for the role of most picked-on kid in the class. It was bad enough that lately Marianne joined in with everyone else picking on me, but this day Mrs. Leibowitz decides she would make fun of me, too. ‘Oh look at the birthday cake—bet Naomi could eat the whole thing all by herself.’
“The reason I remember this day is not because of the being picked-on stuff—why should it be different?—it was the norm back then. I remember that day because something kinda extraordinary happened.”
As Naomi talked, she crossed to another area of her performing space. “I managed to get off by myself in a nook in their gigantic kitchen, and while sitting there it was like this thought came to me: there’s something more real than any of this. It was like I was treated to a momentary glimpse of reality. I had found the meaning of life.”
Naomi acknowledged the musician. Taking his cue, he very softly played the song’s intro.
“But, whoops, now you see it, now you don’t. Like I could almost see the thought as it went flying away, I literally tried reaching out to grab it.” Gesturing as though attempting to catch something, she made eye contact with Gary. “The question is this: Is there someone who watches over us?”
With the piano picking up in volume, Naomi began singing in a velvety alto voice about her longing to know if someone was watching over her. After the first verse, the pianist, following the notation on the song sheet, switched from a ballad-type tempo to an up-tempo blues beat.
Once she finished her audition piece, Naomi waited to hear the familiar “Thank you, we’ll call if interested.” Instead she saw a wide grin on Gary’s face.
He asked, “Did you write the monologue part yourself?”
“No. I lived it.”
Turning to Gwen, Gary said, “Let me see her resume.” After a quick scan, he asked, “Naomi Gold? What is it really? Goldstein? Goldberg? It’s never just Gold.” He winked and then shifted his gaze to the others and confided, “Truth is I’m Rubenstein, not Ruben.
“Well, you’re wrong,” Naomi blurted, then hesitated for a well-timed pause. “It’s Goldblatt.”
Gary rose from his seat, took Naomi’s hand and ushered her to the door. “Goldblatt, huh?
The waiter plopped the hot metal tray on their table. “Here you go, ladies. Salami pizza, extra cheese, Sicilian style. Anything else I can get for you?”
The pungent smell from the garlic combined with the sweet smell from the fresh basil elicited a loud rumbling from Naomi’s stomach. Yet her taste buds called out for something else: crushed red peppers.
The cacophony of sounds distinctive of Goldberg’s Pizzeria was a blend of New Yorkers who talked at their tables as if trying to be heard on a subway train, the clink of silverware and thunk of plates, and the unneeded music blasting out of the overhead speakers.
Naomi shouted, “Can I have the red pepper?”
The waiter seemed to look right through her. She screamed louder. “Crushed red pepper.”
He snatched up the condiments tray off another table and plopped it in front of her.
Aah, good ole New York type rude.
Slapping a white dish towel across his arm, he flashed an intentional smile toward Anne before heading back to the kitchen.
“I saw that,” Naomi said, teasing her roommate.
“Don’t you dare. He doesn’t like me.” Anne shook out a white cloth napkin and smoothed it onto her lap. “It’s simply I’m nicer than all of you New Yorkers, so he appreciates me.
“Anne, face it. He finds you cute. Especially when you show off your dimples for him.”
“Stop it. You’re totally embarrassing me. Besides which I want to hear more about your audition.”
“The most amazing thing is Gary—”
“Gary, the director?”
“He winked at me. Twice.”
Anne folded her arms across her chest and pursed her lips.
“You think I’m making this up? Well, you can wipe that smirk off your face.” Naomi placed a slice of the steaming hot pizza on her plate. “Do you remember the interview they had with him in the New York Times about a month ago?”
“I do.”
“Oooh, you do not. You’re faking it. Your eyes are doing their quick blinking thing.” With complete abandon, Naomi poured the red pepper onto her slice. “I caught you.”
“You did.” Anne blushed and lowered her head. “Sorry.”
“I’m teasing. Will you please just eat your pizza?”
Anne raised her head and laughed. She cut her slice with a knife and then delicately picked up the bite-sized piece with her fork. “And will you please eat your pizza, too, before the cheese slides off and falls on your lap? Like last time.”
Both laughed as they enjoyed their first bite.
“You know,” Naomi said while chewing her food, “if I was a casting director and I had to find someone to be like the complete opposite of me, you’d get the part in a New York second.”
“But what if I got a wig with curly red hair? Then we’d get to play twins.”
“I remember when . . . oh, who was our acting teacher back then?”
“You mean Bill Hickey?”
Naomi nodded and signaled to the waiter for a refill of her diet Coke. “Remember when he assigned us to work on that scene together? At first we couldn’t find a scene to work on, and then we couldn’t find a place to rehearse.”
“You were living in that ‘hotel for young women.’ It was so small we couldn’t both fit in your room at the same time.”
“And you lived with that aunt of yours.” In a mockingly snooty voice, Naomi said, “And, you are never to bring those filthy theatre people into my house. She was one mean lady.”
“Naomi, I probably never told you this, but you really helped give me confidence in myself.”
“I did?”
“I was so scared when I first got here. And I didn’t like people making fun of my so-called Midwestern twang. Almost every day I thought about flying back home, and if it hadn’t been for you, I probably would have.”
“Thank goodness you didn’t. What a waste that would have been.” Naomi spotted the waiter two tables from them. He carried two large pitchers and she held up her glass, dinged it with her fork, and in a loud voice said, “Excuse me.”
He cocked his head to one side, smirked, and sauntered over to their table. He refilled Naomi’s glass, and without even a request from Anne he topped off her iced tea.
Naomi arched her eyebrows. “Someone here doesn’t seem to mind your non-city slicker ways.” She bit into her pizza and quickly smacked it onto her plate. “I forgot the cheese.” She shook a copious amount of parmesan cheese, covering not only the pizza but also the tablecloth surroundin
g her plate.
“Are you going to tell me more about the audition or not?”
“Gary’s got this thick curly hair. It’s sort of wild, not too long but not too short either. It fits his face and his whole personality. If you coulda seen that playful smile of his.”
“Thick curly hair? You’re sure you weren’t just looking in a mirror?”
“His is sandy blonde.” Naomi leaned forward. “Can you imagine what our kids would look like? These cute curly-haired little moppets.”
“Uh, need I remind you, you were not trying out for the role of Mrs. Gary Ruben?”
“A girl can dream, can’t she?”
“This is about your career, Naomi. Isn’t that your real dream?”
“You’re right,” Naomi sighed. “Sometimes maybe I lose a little perspective, huh?”
“I told my singing coach about your audition and she told me the story. They need to replace Francine Chambers because—”
“I know. I wanted to tell you last night but you went to bed early. Francine got discovered through the Improv Asylum and now she’s going to California—”
“To star in a new TV series. Naomi, one day that could be you.” Anne put her hand up, signaling to wait a moment—her pizza was getting cold. After slowly chewing a small bite, she continued. “I didn’t really have to go to bed that early, but I was concerned. You were getting all worked up, and I thought ‘what if she doesn’t get the part?’ But now—”
“I understand. So, can I ask you a favor? Just in case I have a message from the answering service when we get home, for a change, could you just this once eat as fast as me?”
“Just this once.” Anne took a large bite of her pizza and washed it down with the iced tea.
Soon after, they paid the check and stepped out of the restaurant. About a block from their two-bedroom walk-up they met with a heavy downpour of rain. They flung their coats over their heads and ran the rest of the way home.
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