Brooklyn Love (Crimson Romance) (25 page)

Hindy swept crumbs from under the Formica table, dumping the debris into the trashcan.

Shayna stood up suddenly from her scuffed wooden chair, nearly knocking it over. “How can I make him wait like that? There are other gifts we have to buy him. And what about the furniture? You’ll ask us to wait for that, too?”

“Shayna, your mother and I have been saving for this since you were born. But still, it takes a lot of financial juggling. With all the saving we’ve done, I’ve still had to borrow thousands of dollars from
gemachs.
Free-loan societies may not charge interest, but I’ll still need to repay them, and I’m maxed out on our credit cards. Please, let me recoup a bit before I have to buy more gifts.”

Shayna stomped her foot. “No! Tatty, if I don’t give Shimshon his gifts immediately, he’ll get embarrassed and break off our match! How can you let my fiancé get away over money matters?”

Hindy stopped sweeping. “Shayna, I’m sure Shimshon won’t leave you for asking him to wait two months for his watch. If it’s so important to you, why don’t you pay for it? You work.”

“Shut up, you stupid pig,” Shayna snapped. “You want Shimshon to leave me just because he didn’t want you. You’d love to see our match break up because he chose me over you.”

Reb Goldfarb, usually a peaceful man, banged his fist on the table. “Shayna Goldfarb, you don’t speak like that to your sister in my house!”

Hindy’s face turned white.

Shayna stood up. “No, I speak the truth. Maybe it’s not what people want to hear. But if Shimshon doesn’t get his watch within the week, the Kaplinskys will either think you are stingy or else realize just how poor you really are, and they’ll make Shimshon break up with me. They’ll see that you can’t support their son in his learning, and the match will be off. I have to go to work now.” Shayna stormed out of the room without even saying her Grace after Meals.

• • •

Leah sat erect in front of her interviewer. Columbia had rejected her; NYU, too. They wouldn’t even grant her an interview. She had perfect grades, excellent scores on her MCATs. She’d volunteered in hospitals and had even published research papers at school, all while majoring in a subject she hated. Yet the only New York medical school that would give her a shot was one state university.

She sat with the doctor in charge of her application.

“Ms. Bloom,” he said, “you have an excellent G.P.A.”

“Thank you.” She smiled. It had been a grueling day of meetings and interviews. Leah wiped the sweat from her brow.

“You can’t beat a 3.8 from an Honors Program.”

Leah modestly averted her eyes.

The doctor drummed his small, pointy fingers on his desk. “Great research papers.”

Leah looked up. She wondered why he was reiterating what they both already knew.

He looked over her application. “Excellent MCAT scores. Truly excellent.” He nodded.

Leah stared at him.

He looked up. “But you understand, we have a number of qualified applicants.”

Her mouth felt dry. Leah swallowed hard.

He continued. “I’m sorry, but we can’t accept you.”

Leah felt numb. It wasn’t possible.

“That’s it?” she asked. All those hard years of work. Of pushing herself through unknown territory in science, while juggling work and a major in computers. Of parties missed because she had to study. Of volunteering in hospitals and working in labs, and late nights when she would rather have gotten some sleep. Of hiding her ambitions from her mother and forging ahead — against every obstacle and contention that she couldn’t do it. Her grades proving that she wasn’t stupid, that she had a brain — that she had a worth. All those years of anxiety came down to one man sitting in front of her, telling her, “no.”

“Well,” the doctor said and squirmed in his chair, “you could always try again next year.”

Leah nodded. “Tell me why.”

The doctor was taken off guard. “What do you mean?”

Leah folded her arms against her chest. This man had just crushed all her dreams of becoming a doctor. If she tried to apply the following year, medical schools would hold it against her that she hadn’t been accepted earlier. It would be nearly impossible to ever get into medical school. “Why?” she asked again.

The doctor’s cheeks turned a deep red. “Well, you understand,” the doctor looked away. “We’ve already accepted four like you.”

Leah rose from her chair. “Four like me? In what way?”

“We need to keep our classes mixed, you know. We take students from all over the country, from various socioeconomic backgrounds.”

“In what way, Doctor?”

“We can’t have Jewish kids taking up every seat in every medical school. That wouldn’t be fair, now would it?”

“Quotas?” Leah raised her voice incredulously.

“Of course not — we haven’t had quotas in years. But these spots have to go to kids who otherwise wouldn’t have a chance at bettering themselves. Not like you, with all of your advantages … I’m sorry. If it were up to me … ” The doctor rose to show her to the door.

“Every advantage?” Leah felt as if someone had just punched her in the stomach. Hard.

The doctor shook his head. “It’s not about you, or your grades. Other races, ethnicities, and nationalities have to be able to compete, too. Our hands are tied.” The doctor opened the door for her. “Don’t bother with any lawsuits, Ms. Bloom. I’ll deny this conversation ever took place.”

It was a Saturday night in March, and Ilana sat with Macy at South Street Seaport, their eyes fixed on the water. Docked ships rocked quietly in the sea, glowing silver in the moonlight reflected off the water. The air felt mild and smelled salty as couples strolled beside the boats and through the well-lit mall. Macy had bought drinks and asked Ilana if she’d like to stand by the railing to hear the waves rolling near the port. Now they were walking together quietly, enjoying the evening as they listened to the sounds of the waves mixed with pedestrians’ chatter, which occasionally erupted with laughter. All at once, quite gently, Macy tried to hold Ilana’s hand.

Ilana smiled and pulled her hand away.

Macy looked stricken. “It’s not natural, Ilana. We’ve been together so long, and you won’t touch me at all.”

Ilana sighed. “I didn’t write the rules, Macy. But let’s be consistent.”

Macy nodded, sulking. “What kind of girlfriend are you, anyway?”

Ilana smiled at his impetuousness. “Well, that’s one reason we don’t date like other people. If we love each other, we get married.”

Macy looked her in the eye, and then he got down on one knee and said, “Ilana, will you marry me?”

She laughed. “No, Macy, absolutely not.”

He jumped up, angry. “Why not? Don’t you love me?”

She stopped laughing, realizing she’d hurt his feelings. “Macy, you know I love you. But you are so immature! You aren’t ready to take on the responsibilities of marriage.”

“Oh, so now you’re the one who decides who is and isn’t ready?”

“No. But as much as we love each other, I do feel that you want to marry me now just to — to satisfy your physical urges. And when you aren’t nineteen anymore, then what? Then you’ll resent the fact that I ‘reined you in’ and you weren’t ready.”

Macy shook his head incredulously, reaching for Ilana’s hand, and then forced his hand into his pocket instead. “Ilana, you’ve got that all wrong. I’m not as religious as my family. If I just wanted to satisfy my ‘physical urges,’ I wouldn’t have to get married to do that.”

“Oh?” Ilana said and smiled.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Macy ran his fingers through his hair, and then met her gaze. “In fact, I’ve been keeping the laws and not having any contact with you only out of my respect for you.”

“All for me?” Ilana teased.

Macy shoved his hand back in his pocket. “Yeah. All for you. And you know what? It’s not easy being close with the woman I love and not being able to express that.”

Ilana lifted her hand and almost brushed a hair off his sweater. Instead, she ran her hand through her own thick, black hair. “Macy, if you are going to guilt me into not following the Law, forget about it. Of course I’d like to be close to you. I’m human.”

“I’m not trying to guilt you.”

“So what are you doing?”

“I’m doing nothing. That’s the problem.” Macy moved his palm toward her face but then forced his hand back down.

Ilana frowned. “Macy, it’s hard for me not to express how I feel, too. It’s really, really hard. But I also value the laws. And if you let one go, then the others follow. And then what makes you Jewish? I’ve had that lifestyle, Macy. No thank you. That life was unbearable for me.”

Macy threw his bottle cap into the sea. “I won’t feel reined in. Where I come from, you get married young — even if you aren’t in love. But I love you, Ilana.”

Ilana gazed at Macy; she didn’t know what to say.

“Marry me,” he said.

She took a deep breath, inhaling the salty air of the sea around her. The street lamps overlooking the seaport glistened in their reflections on the water, and she looked deeply into his big, blue eyes.

“Marry me,” he repeated, getting down on his knee once more. “And we’ll grow up together. I promise.”

“But Macy, we’re still in school. How will we support ourselves? How would we support a baby? And what about the way your mother acted when we met? How are we going to get over that?”

Macy smiled, seeing that Ilana was thinking his way. “I’ll start looking for a job tonight. We’ll work it out, Ilana. I’ll work and finish up school at night. We won’t live in the lap of luxury, but we’ll make our way, and we’ll be happy. As for my mother — she’s always like that with new people. She likes you. I’m sure of it.”

Ilana laughed, this time out of pleasure. “Yes, all right. Macy, I will marry you. But don’t ever say I reined you in!”

• • •

Aryeh sat stiffly in his black suit, taking in his beautiful date. Black hair, jewel-green eyes, and nice figure. The girl was as Mother had promised: a knockout. They were sitting in Ossie’s, an upscale fish restaurant centrally located in Borough Park. Murals of Noah’s Ark graced the walls of the establishment, and Ossie’s even served green butter.

“That’s real classy,” Jessica said nasally. “Green butter.”

Aryeh nodded as if riveted by her every word. He had to — or else her insipid talk would lull him to sleep.

“I really like the new Borsalino hats much better than last year’s style.”

She was trying to engage him in conversation. He did appreciate that, and she was pleasant enough, but there was nothing he particularly wanted to share with her.

“I mean, when the guys, you know, they tilt those hats up, you know, they kinda look out-of-townish, you know?”

Aryeh wondered if this girl had ever left Brooklyn to observe the wider world. “Ever been out of town?”

“Yeah. We go to the country every summer, to the Catskills. And once my parents took us all to Disneyworld. It was phenomenal! Yoysh! We did the whole park in, like, four hours!”

“They used a tremendous amount of foresight and intelligence in designing the park — ”

“Oh,” Jessica interrupted, “I really loved the souvenir shops. We got the funny hats, the light-up thingies … ”

• • •

Hindy and her mother had been shopping in Borough Park. They picked up a beautiful brocade fabric that Hindy was going to use to sew curtains for Shayna’s apartment. She also found some satin remnants on sale that she planned to sew into holiday costumes for her youngest brothers: a clown, a pirate, and a bear. She pictured her brothers in the costumes and felt happy for them. Happy she could do something to make the people she loved … happier.

Hindy had to use the ladies’ room. “Let’s go to Ossie’s.” She motioned to her mother in front of the restaurant. Hindy had previously made a mental note that this restaurant had a clean bathroom; it was necessary to memorize such important landmarks in New York for whenever the situation arose.

As they walked in unobtrusively to use the restaurant’s facilities, Hindy stopped in her tracks: She saw Aryeh — her boss, her unofficial best friend — on a date. With a beautiful girl.

• • •

Aryeh wondered how much longer he’d have to listen to Jessica Julevits and still remain polite. He wished Hindy had come with him instead. He knew she’d get a kick out of the green butter. He could almost hear her saying, “Ooh! Green butter! You think it comes from a green cow?”

He smiled at that.

Jessica took his smile as encouragement to continue her monologue.

• • •

Hindy looked on with envy.

“Isn’t that the Kaufman boy?” her mother whispered as she came out of the bathroom.

Hindy nodded nonchalantly.

“He’s cute,” her mother remarked.

“Yeah. But he doesn’t learn,” Hindy said with an uncharacteristically snooty air as they exited the restaurant with their packages.

“Never? He never learns?” her mother prodded.

“Well, actually, he learns most of the night. He says he only gets four hours of sleep a night, because he learns the minute he finishes work, and I always see him learning in between clients, and — ”

“So he does learn, quite a lot.”

“Well, yeah. I guess he does. But you know, he doesn’t go to yeshiva. He learns on his own time, and he works.”

“So he works to support his learning. That’s very admirable.”

Hindy was confused about her mother’s message. “But Tatty learns all day.”

“And how many hours do you think he puts in? Maybe the same as Aryeh Kaufman. Maybe less. You don’t know, do you?”

They got to their bus stop.

“Tatty can learn because I support it,” her mother continued. “I encourage it. But even he has to work now, to help support our family. Don’t look at superficial things, Hindy. Look at the person. At what they want, at who they are. You can never know what the circumstances are in a person’s life.”

Hindy shook her head. “But you and Tatty haven’t had it easy — and you still made sure his study was top priority. Don’t you want that for me, too? Wouldn’t you be ashamed if my husband wasn’t in yeshiva?”