Dating Kosher (30 page)

Chapter 30

“So, did you do it?” Bev asked, her face resembling that of a PMS-afflicted woman standing at a Godiva counter; she needed a fix, and she needed it
bad
.

“Did I do what?” I asked, grabbing the emery board out of my desk drawer to smooth out a snag. I knew exactly what she was asking, but I couldn’t help it, I loved taunting her. She made it so easy.

“Come on, I’ve got an appointment in, like, three minutes,” Bev whined, keeping her voice low; it wouldn’t do to have clients overhear our gossiping from the waiting area.

I rolled my eyes. “Well if you must know, I did. Okay?”

It was like she took a bite of the chocolate, but it was better than expected and she instantly needed more. “And?”

“And what?”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“Yeah, I guess so. He’s probably coming for Rosh Hashanah dinner.”

Her eyes widened. “Wow, you must really like him.”

I shook my head. “Nah, it’s not that. He practically begged me. His family is in Israel and he had nowhere to go.”

“Wow. That’s almost charitable of you, Shoshanna. I’m stunned.”

I looked beyond Bev to make sure no clients were within earshot before I told her to fuck off.

She just laughed at me.

“Speaking of Rosh Hashanah, Jake is coming into town.”

“Who?”

Before Bev had a chance to answer, her client came through the front doors.

“Hi Adrienne, I’ll be right with you. Would you like a tea?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” the client said, automatically heading over to the waiting area.

Bev turned back to me. “Jacob, Susan’s son. Your
step-brother
?”

Right. Him. “Oh,” I said, deliberately keeping the smile on my face.

“He’s coming in for the holidays. I’m really looking forward to seeing him. We’ve been talking every day by e-mail.”

My best friend was positively beaming. I wondered if Bev was having online sex with the guy who was now my stepbrother. So weird.

“Why don’t you come for Rosh Hashanah dinner too?” I was playing quite the gracious hostess for Susan’s dinner party, inviting all these extra people.

“Really, you think that would be cool? I mean, my parents don’t really do anything anyway.”

I shrugged. “I’ll ask Susan, but one more person couldn’t hurt.”
Especially since she heard you mention you wanted to do him back in the hotel bathroom at the wedding
, I thought, but kept my mouth shut—no reason to embarrass Bev by reminding her about that.

“Wow, that would be cool. Thanks, Shosh. And I’ll get to meet Ari, too.”

“Oy, I’ll be spreading such
nachas
,” I said in my best Jewish grandmother voice.

Bev giggled before going to retrieve her client.

* * *

“Honey! It’s so great to see you!” Dad said as he approached the booth where I sat. I got up from the bench and hugged him, smiling over his shoulder at Susan. Even though I liked her, I wondered with a sudden, acute pang of jealousy, if she would now be a permanent fixture at our Sunday morning brunches. Once Dad pulled away, she moved in and gave me a hug also, albeit much more delicate than my father’s.

“How’s the cut?” Dad asked nodding toward the bandage over my eye.

My fingers involuntarily rose to the touch the fabric covering the stitches. “Getting better. I’m getting them out this week.”

Susan’s brow furrowed as she took her seat. “Hopefully, you won’t have too much of a scar.”

I shrugged, “I’ll just tell people I got it in a bar fight.”

“Shosh…” Dad scolded half-heartedly.

“So, did you have a good honeymoon?” I asked sliding back into the booth.

They both nodded but it was Susan who spoke. “We had such a wonderful time. Your dad didn’t get seasick at all.” She shoved her hand into her purse and pulled out her phone, cueing up the pictures before handing it to me. “We went snorkeling and your dad even tried parasailing.”

“Wow, really?” I could hardly imagine my father in something as casual as a swimsuit let alone four hundred feet in the sky, dangling from a parachute.

“I did, honey, there’s a picture in there to prove it.” He pointed at the phone in my hand.

“Wow.” I began to flip through the photos. Most of them were of Susan. Susan in her pink bathing suit at the pool. Susan in her black bathing suit on the beach. Susan in her green bathing suit and her snorkel outfit, complete with fins. Then there were a few of them in their formal wear sitting at dinner. Looking very happy. Looking like they were in love.

I wondered what their criteria had been when they first hooked up. Did she see him as a good provider? Was it his looks?

Oh what the hell. I looked up from the photos and looked Susan in the eye. “What made you realize you wanted to marry Dad, or at least be with him permanently?”

She looked at me for a second before stealing a glance at her new husband. “Are you asking me this because of your young man? Who, I would like to say, is very nice, by the way. I hope he’s coming for Rosh Hashanah dinner…”

Dad was nodding his own endorsement of Nate; the pretend-Jewish man who now hated my guts.

“No, I’m not asking because of him. I’m just interested, that’s all. And actually, Nate and I broke up, but there’s someone else I’d like to bring to Rosh Hashanah, if that’s okay.” I took a sip of my coffee, trying to look casual. I still hadn’t broken the news to my mother that I wouldn’t be spending Tuesday night with her. Although I was obligated to spend Tuesday nights through eternity with my mother, Susan was making this big production at her and Dad’s place. It was going to be the birth of a new era: home cooked Rosenblatt family holiday dinners. What a concept.

Susan deflated, “Oh, too bad, I thought we’d have another wedding to plan. So who do you want to bring? Bev?”

“Oh, uh well yeah, her too.” I wondered if Susan knew about her son and Bev exchanging e-mails since the wedding. Probably not; she didn’t seem to take any extra interest in Bev wanting to come. “But also, this guy I met when I was with Bubby at the butcher shop on Friday.”

“Oh, well that’s a bit sudden.” Susan’s hand rose to finger the pearls around her neck. “But any friend of yours is welcome at our table.” She wasn’t very convincing; her gears were turning, I’m sure wondering what had happened to Nate—the guy that everyone had liked.

I needed to change the subject. “But I do want to know—tell me what made you realize Dad was the one.”

She looked at him and then at me, a goofy smile on her face. “Well, I guess I knew I wanted to be with your dad for good when he took me to Taco Bell for our third date.” She winked at him in a way that made me suddenly want to be elsewhere, but I was still curious.

“What does Taco Bell have to do with knowing he’s the one?”

Susan chuckled. “Your father hates taco bell, but he took me there because he knew I had a taste for it. That’s how I knew he was for me.”

“I’ve never been to Taco Bell,” I admitted.

Dad rolled his eyes, “You’re not missing anything, trust me.”

“It’s my guilty pleasure, what can I say?” Susan shrugged.

Dad got up from the table. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go wash my hands before we eat.”

Once he was out of earshot, I turned back to Susan, leaning over the table. “Okay, you can tell me: what was it
really
?”

She tilted her head, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“What really attracted you to him. That he’s a lawyer?”

“No, I told you. Your dad is very sweet.” Her brow scrunched up. “Being a lawyer is not enough to make a man worth marrying. Not in my books, anyway.”

“So it had nothing to do with his job or money?” Sadly, my research was only confirming Bev’s observations.

Susan shook her head. “Not at all.”

The waitress came to the table with a pot of coffee, filling all our mugs when we nodded.

“And I don’t want you to worry that I’m going to infringe on your ‘dates.’ I won’t be joining you after today; I just wanted to see you and thank you for helping out with the wedding.”

“Oh, it’s okay, you can come anytime,” I said, although I was secretly relieved. But Susan was cool, and I probably wouldn’t mind if she came some of the time.

“Well thank you for saying that, but I think you and your dad need something that’s just your own. Either way, I hope you had a good time at the wedding.”

I felt my face heat up. “Uh, yeah. About what Bev and I were talking about in the bathroom…”

She grinned, waving off my embarrassment. “Don’t give it another thought. I know all about it; I was young once too, you know. Your mother and I used to tear it up at the USY dances. If I remember correctly, she was very partial to martinis.”

I grinned. Sometimes I forgot that Susan and my mom used to be like Bev and me. “Oh yes, I come by my love of the martini very honestly.”

Dad returned to the table. Susan winked at me and I looked down at my full coffee cup.

“Are you two done talking about me yet?”

“Someone thinks a little highly of himself,” Susan said to me, nodding toward my dad beside her.

I laughed. Yeah, Susan’s pretty cool.

Dad rolled his eyes at both of us, but kept quiet. He took a sip of his coffee before opening up the laminated menu.

“Oh Dad, before I forget, there’s a girl I know who’s interested in covering Marnie’s mat leave. I had her send her resume to your office and Marnie put it on your desk for when you go back to work tomorrow.”

“It’s not you, is it?” he teased, glancing over the top of the menu at me.

“Yeah, Dad, as if I’d work for you! No, it’s a client from The Confidence Closet. I think she’d do really well.”

Dad’s silly smile disappeared when he realized I was serious. “I’ll have a look at it first thing. It’s a good thing what you do at that place.”

I couldn’t help but smile as I looked down at my menu.

* * *

I was zoned out on my couch Sunday afternoon, remote loosely in hand, full belly hogging much of my body’s resources in order to digest the huge brunch. My brain activity was barely over coma as I lay with Armani next to me. My lids began to feel heavy and I started to drift when my phone rang, scaring me into hurling the remote onto the floor.

“Shit,” I yelled involuntarily before grabbing the phone from the coffee table. I looked at the screen. It was Nate. Catching me completely and absolutely off-guard.

I couldn’t do it. Even though I owed him an apology, I chickened out and left it for voicemail. After several long, agonizing minutes, the message signal sounded. I dialed voicemail and held the phone close to hear what Nate had to say.

“Hi Shoshanna, it’s Nate. Listen, I just wanted to thank you for what you’ve done for my sister. She and I both really appreciate your help.” His voice had a frosty tone, one I’d never heard from him before. I could hardly blame him after the way I acted. As an afterthought, he quickly added, “Anyway, I hope Armany (I was sure he misspelled it in his head) is feeling better. Bye.”
      The guilt came back and I reached for the phone to call him but then put it down on the table. “Chickenshit,” I called myself, evoking a half-hearted, “mreow?” from Armani. I reached down and scratched between his ears.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Armani, I really don’t. Well, I’ve got a new guy now anyway.” Armani didn’t argue so I put on
Tiny House Hunters
for the eight minutes it took me to doze off.

Chapter 31

I was expecting fireworks, spitting, hissing and above all, the kind of guilt trip only Tippy Rosenblatt could deliver. But when all I got was: “That’s fine, Shoshie,” I was truly and utterly shocked.

“Huh?” I stared at the phone, wondering if it was actually my mother on the other end.

“I said that’s fine. You have dinner with your father and Susan.”

“Aren’t you upset?”

She sighed and I thought
this is it, here it comes
, but all she said was, “Well, Shoshanna, of course, I’d like to spend the evening with you, but I can understand if your father would like you at his family dinner. Sushi with your borderline alcoholic mother is hardly suitable for Rosh Hashanah.”

I was at a loss for words. When I finally did speak, my own voice sounded distant. “You’re not an alcoholic.” I had to say something…

“Either way, honey. You have a nice time and say hello to everyone for me.”

“Are you sure, Mom?” This was too easy. I had sudden and very vivid vision of her standing on the Brooklyn Bridge, a suicide note pinned to the front of her sweat suit citing my abandoning her at Rosh Hashanah as the reason why she ended it all.

“I’m sure, Shoshanna, I’m a big girl. I’ve…I’ve realized a few things and have started making some changes.”

“Okay then.” I stroked Armani, who was purring loudly, sitting in my lap. I was very relieved he was feeling better.

“Okay, Shoshie, I’ve gotta run. Have a nice time Tuesday, just don’t be surprised if your Uncle Moishe isn’t there.”

Ew. I hung up the phone. Well, that explained how it had been so easy for me to bail; while I would be eating gefilte fish and introducing a guy I barely knew but had already had sex with around to my family, my mother would be getting it on with my dad’s brother. If they got married, she’d be my mother and my aunt.

Oy vey.
My life had gotten very bizarre.

Chapter 32

I had to work both Monday and Tuesday, so helping Susan get ready for the big dinner just wasn’t going to happen, so it ended up that my contribution consisted of picking up my bubby and bringing her to dinner.

I led her out of her home to where the cab waited at the curb and helped her into the back seat beside Bev. I climbed in after, settling the giant silver platter of gefilte fish, covered in several layers of plastic wrap, across our laps. God help us all if the platter shifted and we lost some fish.