Rashi's Daughters, Book III: Rachel (55 page)

“I haven’t complained, if that’s what you mean,” Miriam said. “I just wanted to warn you.”

Although Miriam had observed Rachel’s frequent absences of late, she couldn’t deny that her sister was performing an appropriate share of familial responsibilities. Certainly Rachel’s woolens brought in far more of the family’s income than Miriam’s midwifery. But their father was not so tolerant.

Miriam gave a nod toward the front door, where Salomon stood waiting. “
Merci
,” Rachel replied, taking her sister’s hand. At least she wouldn’t be facing Papa alone.

The kitchen was empty, so they sat down at the table. Miriam poured them each a cup of wine.

“You must try this cheese.” Rachel unwrapped the parcel she’d been carrying. “It’s fresh from Joheved’s sheep.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing in Ramerupt these days?” Salomon’s tone was skeptical. “Making cheese?”

Rachel took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to hide what she’d been doing; it was nothing to be ashamed of. “
Non
, Papa. I’ve been teaching Dovid Hebrew and he’s teaching me Latin.”

Salomon and Miriam were taken aback by her proud reply. “Teaching him Hebrew is much easier than with Guy and Étienne Harding,” Rachel added.

“How so?” Miriam asked.

“True, Dovid had to learn the Hebrew alphabet, just as a small child does.” Her face lit with enthusiasm as she continued, “But speaking Hebrew comes so easily for him that I’m convinced his family must have spoken it at home.” She was in the same position learning Latin; the letters were unfamiliar, but the language resembled her own vernacular French.

So far Papa hadn’t objected, so she turned to him and added, “Since we use scripture as our text, I also teach him your explanations.”

“How does he respond?” Salomon asked, his curiosity stronger than his disapproval. “Does he argue with you like Guy and Étienne did with Shmuel?”

Rachel shook her head. “Dovid finds it interesting. He says your exegesis is very different from the monks’.”

Salomon stroked his beard and squinted at Rachel, who felt as though he were trying to peer into her heart. “
Ma fille
, you are a married woman whose husband is far away. You must be vigilant against the
yetzer hara
.”

Miriam patted his shoulder as if he were a child. “Rachel is an expert at thwarting a man’s
yetzer hara
.”

“Don’t worry, Papa. We always study outdoors where people can see us,” Rachel assured him. Although not where they could be overheard, thank Heaven.

He smiled wanly. “You can’t expect a father to stop worrying about his daughter just because he’s gotten old.” It was Rachel’s
yetzer hara
he was worried about. Still, he couldn’t deny the fuller the opportunity to repent his apostasy, despite the risk to her reputation.

Rachel gave an inward sigh of relief. Papa might not be happy with her teaching Dovid, but he wasn’t going to forbid it.

To avert their father from lecturing Rachel further, Miriam made an announcement that was sure to change the subject. “Speaking of getting old, Avram the Mohel has asked me to consider taking on a new apprentice. He’s concerned that his fingers aren’t as nimble as they used to be and that it will take years to train another mohel.”

Rachel groaned. Finding the last apprentice mohel had been so difficult that Troyes had been forced to accept Miriam. The community had been torn apart and was only now recovering. “Can’t we import one?”

Miriam shook her head sadly. “There are even fewer mohels now than when I began training.”

Rachel blanched at her own stupidity.
Of course there are fewer mohels—the German ones are dead.

But Salomon had a twinkle in his eye. “You’ve chosen an apprentice already, haven’t you?”

“
Oui
. Now that our woolen business is established, there’s no need for Elisha to leave Troyes other than an occasional visit to his brothers in Paris.”

Rachel gasped with pleasure. “My future son-in-law is going to be our next mohel? What an honor for Rivka.” Now neither of her children would be moving away.

“I assume my grandson has agreed,” Salomon said.

“Elisha is eager to begin his circumcision training,” Miriam replied. “Judah is so proud.”

“That’s a relief.” Rachel said aloud what they were all thinking. “I may prefer a woman circumciser myself, but the Jews of Troyes don’t need any more troubles than we have already.”

 

Between the busy springtime vineyard, her studies with Dovid, and readying their woolens for the Hot Fair’s cloth market, Rachel was busy from dawn to dark. Dovid had accepted Joheved’s invitation to the family’s Passover seder, where he sat in silence like the child too young to ask questions. He declined to attend Shavuot services in Troyes, but Rachel was still pleased with his progress.

She had a feeling that Eliezer, loath to leave his astronomical calculations, would be late again this summer. So she was astonished when Shemiah walked into afternoon services a full ten days before the opening of the Hot Fair. Thank Heaven they’d returned safely, but curse her bad luck: she’d just begun her flowers.

Rachel was leading services for the women that day, but she hoped that Eliezer would be at home unpacking for some time and not notice that she hadn’t rushed home to greet him. Not that they could do much greeting with her being
niddah
. Shemiah was pacing back and forth at the bottom of the stairs to the women’s gallery, and immediately, when his troubled gaze met hers, she knew something was wrong. As soon as services were over, instead of hurrying to embrace her, he led her into an alley near the synagogue.

“What’s the matter?” Rachel’s heart was pounding. “Why aren’t we going home to Eliezer?”

Shemiah swallowed hard. “He’s not at home, Mama. He didn’t come back with me and Pesach.”

Rachel’s knees began to buckle, and she would have fallen if her son hadn’t supported her. “Why not? What happened to him?”

“Nothing happened to him.” Shemiah’s voice was bitter. “Gazelle is due to give birth next month, and he didn’t want to desert her at such a time. He said you’d understand.”

Overcome with outrage and pain, Rachel stood speechless in her son’s arms. How could Eliezer choose a concubine over her? Because she had never forgotten how he’d left her to suffer a stillbirth alone, did he imagine that she’d appreciate him not allowing his other wife the same fate?

“I understand that he’s a selfish cur,” she spat out the words. “Putting his own needs above those of his family, even missing his own son’s wedding—”

“He’ll be here for the wedding,” Shemiah interrupted her tirade. “He’ll leave Toledo as soon as the baby is safely born.”

“And how long will he stay here if he won’t arrive until August?” She burst into tears.

“Mama, please don’t cry so loud. People are stopping to see what’s wrong.”

Part of her wanted to scream.
Let them watch me cry! Let them see what kind of fiend I married.
But she came to her senses. Eliezer coming late to their son’s wedding would be cause enough for gossip; who knows what people would say if they learned he had another wife in Sepharad? Heaven forbid his despicable behavior make her an object of ridicule and pity.

Rachel choked back her sobs and blew her nose into the dirt. “We mustn’t let anyone know that I was surprised by his late arrival.” She paused to clear her mind. “Let them believe that some business opportunity delayed him.”

“What about Grandpapa?”

“Unless he asks directly, we say nothing,” she declared. Then she gave her son the hug he deserved and took his arm. “So how did you enjoy traveling? What did you think of Toledo? Tell me everything.”

They walked aimlessly through the streets, sharing stories of Sepharad, until they arrived at the courtyard gate. Rachel hurried to the well and splashed her face with cold water. Somehow she would survive the next two months until Eliezer arrived.
And if he doesn’t show up for the wedding?
Her blood froze at the thought. Then she might just take her conditional
get
to the
beit din
and make it a real divorce.

 

When the wedding week arrived with no sign of Eliezer, Rachel made Shemiah and Pesach agree to say as little as possible about his absence. Thankfully it was no falsehood to say that they’d expected him for the ceremony and were now concerned at what could have delayed him. But she needn’t have worried. The population of Troyes, indeed of the entire province of Champagne, was more concerned with the politics of their feudal lord’s succession.

After braving another trip to the Holy Land, Count Étienne had died there in May. This time he’d reached Jerusalem, so instead of the wife of a coward, Countess Adèle was now the proud widow of a knight who’d fallen defending the Holy City. She further cemented the family’s position by sending their ten-year-old son, Thibault, to the Troyes court as presumptive heir of childless Hugues and Constance.

Rachel, however, was too occupied with wedding details to listen to gossip. Tradition called for the groom’s family to provide meals and entertainment, and, hoping that Eliezer would handle such things, she’d neglected planning them. In a panic, Rachel consulted her sisters, who, thank Heaven, had the combined experience of marrying off four sons.

“I can provide all the lambs we need,” Joheved declared as they walked home from synagogue. “Once we find sufficient hearths in which to roast them.”

“There are at least five hundred Jews living in Troyes, none of whom will be leaving town until after the Days of Awe.” Miriam began counting the potential guests. “In addition to the hundreds of merchants who will still be here when the fair closes.”

Rachel stopped in the middle of the street. “
Mon Dieu
, do we have to feed a thousand people?”

“Not only that, but we need benches for them to sit on, tables for all the food, plus people to prepare and serve it,” Joheved pointed out. Obviously the banquets must be held in the streets of the Jewish Quarter; not even the synagogue courtyard was large enough.

“Maybe we should postpone the wedding a month?” Rachel asked in desperation. “Then the merchants will be gone and my husband might have arrived.”

Miriam shook her head. “We can’t. It will be Rosh Hashanah. And if we wait two weeks, Glorietta might be
niddah
.”

Joheved had the final word on the subject. “We can’t delay even a week or we risk interrupting the grape harvest.”

Rachel’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “It’s going to be so much work.”
And my husband won’t be there.

“Shemiah’s wedding shouldn’t be any more difficult to arrange than Isaac’s.” Joheved’s voice was confident. “Moses and Francesca are delightful to work with.”

Miriam took Rachel’s arm to get them moving again. “Don’t worry. Everyone in the community will provide a dish, so you’ll likely end up with more food than you need.”

Rachel sighed with relief. At least she wouldn’t have to buy new clothes or a house for the newlyweds. She had traded Giuseppe a bolt of scarlet wool in exchange for his finest Palermo silk, for the wedding outfits, and offered Shemiah and his bride her own chamber.

After all, she’d been sleeping in her old room at Papa’s house most nights since the demon first attacked him. And if Eliezer weren’t coming home, their four-poster marital bed would only be a painful reminder. But enough self-pity. She must hire musicians, caterers, and all the other professionals necessary. One thought cheered her: for his bridal gifts Shemiah would have his choice of the jewelry she and Miriam had taken in pawn.

Joheved coughed delicately, sending Rachel out of her reverie. “Since Eliezer isn’t here to instruct Shemiah, shall I ask Meir to share a copy of Tractate Kallah and answer his questions? Or would your son prefer to talk to Isaac?”

“Eliezer already gave Shemiah a copy,” Rachel replied. At least her husband hadn’t completely abandoned his paternal obligations. “But Isaac should probably talk to him anyway.”

Tractate Kallah, the Jewish Sages’ treatise on marital relations, contained everything a bridegroom needed to know in order to provide carnal pleasure to his new wife. This was a necessity because, not only was a Jewish man obligated to fulfill his wife’s sexual needs, but to conceive a son she must emit her seed first. Meir’s father had given him a copy of Tractate Kallah shortly before he married Joheved, and Meir had done the same for his sons and nephews.

“Shemiah should start sleeping with others in the room besides Elisha,” Miriam said. “I’ll ask Judah to send some of his most pious students down from the attic.”

Rachel nodded. Normally two people together were sufficient protection against
mazikim
, but bridegrooms were particularly vulnerable as the wedding approached. Lillit considered them her special prey, attacking the young men at night and stealing their semen to spawn her demon offspring. Eliezer had admitted to visiting harlots before their wedding: a precaution against Lillit, he’d maintained.

A pox on Eliezer
. How could she plan this
simcha
without him intruding on her thoughts? And how could she possibly get through the wedding without his absence draining all the pleasure from it?

 

As it turned out, Rachel was so busy during those two days that she barely had time to use the privy, which only reminded her to tell the servants to be sure to keep them restocked with fresh moss. The moment she heard the first rooster crow on Friday morning, long before the sky began to lighten, worries prevented her from going back to sleep.

Soon the
shamash
would be pounding on their courtyard gate to summon Shemiah and his attendants to synagogue. Who was responsible for providing the torches? Hopefully not her. What if the musicians she’d hired overslept? How would she find more at the last moment? Yesterday had been clear, but what if a sudden end-of-summer hailstorm arrived? Immediately she peered out the window, but it was still too dark to see any clouds.