Brooklyn Love (Crimson Romance) (23 page)

Hindy smiled wryly. “That’s a lot of gold!”

“Seriously, if you were ever interested in dating a working boy, I know someone who’d be really great for you, really appreciate you.”

Hindy shrugged. “Thanks, Aryeh, for thinking of me, but I can only marry someone who’ll be a scholar, like my father.”

Aryeh stared at the numbers on his calculator. “Wouldn’t you even want to give him a chance? Even if he cared for you and he’d study whenever he could?”

“No,” said Hindy firmly. “Our values would be too different, our worlds just too far apart.”

Aryeh felt his cheeks flush. “But what if he loved you, Hindy?”

“Aryeh, you’re so funny,” Hindy laughed. “What does love have to do with marriage?”

“I see,” said Aryeh stiffly.

“The program is working.” Hindy pointed to the computer, and then she gathered up her things to go and wished him a Happy Chanukah.

After she left, Aryeh went upstairs to his mother.

“So tell me, Mother, about the girls from today’s list. Who did you have in mind for me to date?”

• • •

Macy Kaufman was in love.

Not one for great introspection, there were three things in the world that Macy Kaufman loved with all his heart: his music, his motorcycle, and his mama. His latest love, though, was more powerful than any of the other three combined: the love he felt for Ilana Zohar.

Ilana had told him how much she also loved his music, that she too enjoyed his motorcycle. So Macy was excited by the prospect that she would love his first true love as well: his mama. And now the time had come. Ilana was expected momentarily for latkes.

“Ma! You are going to love her!” Macy enthused as he straightened his tie in front of the big, golden-framed hallway mirror.

“I don’t have to love her,” Suri kvetched and went into the kitchen, pretending to check on the cooking.

Macy stood stunned for a second. Then he realized his mother must be extremely nervous to pull that one. Everyone knew that Suri didn’t cook. He had just picked up the latkes himself, from the take-out deli. He resolved to make the transition as easy as possible on his mother.

The bell rang, and he jumped to get it.

Ilana stood covered in snow on the doorstep, grinning.

“Come in,” Macy said, dazzled as always. He led her into the living room and handed her a small blue jewelry box. “I got you a little something for Chanukah.”

“What’s this?” Ilana carefully opened the box and withdrew the gold necklace with a diamond heart pendant. “This is beautiful, Macy.” She gazed up at him. “What does it mean?”

“It means I want to keep seeing you.”

Ilana smiled and donned the jeweled necklace. “Me too!”

Michael Kaufman strolled into the room and gave Macy an admiring nod at the sight of Ilana. He greeted her cordially, oozing Kaufman charm. “It’s so nice of you to stop by, Ilana. We’ve heard so much about you.”

Ilana smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Kaufman. Macy has spoken so much of his loving family; it’s nice to meet you as well!”

Michael chatted amiably with Ilana while they waited for Suri to join them.

“Ma?” Macy called, wondering why his mother hadn’t come in. “Ma? Come meet my girlfriend, Ilana.”

“Yes, dear, I’m coming.”

As Suri walked into the room, Ilana turned to meet her. “Hi, Mrs. Kaufman. I’m Ilana,” the young woman said sweetly, extending her hand.

Suri limply shook it. “Nice to meet you,” she said in a sickeningly sweet tone. “Where is your family from?”

“Huh?” Ilana shook her head. “Israel.”

Suri checked her nails for any chips. “No, before then.”

“Iraq, actually. They had to emigrate after Israel was declared a state and Jews were no longer welcome in Arab lands.”

Suri nodded. “It figures. That’s what happens when Jews are dark. Nobody wants them. That’s what happened to my grandfather — he was dark, so the Nazis knew he was Jewish and murdered him.”

Ilana’s eyes widened as Macy coughed uncomfortably and stood beside her.

“So what do your parents do?” Suri asked as she played with one of her rings.

Ilana stepped back. “They’re teachers.”

“Intellectuals,” Suri sighed. “How vulnerable.”

Ilana stood at a loss for words, and Macy wasn’t sure why his mother was behaving this way.

“Look, darlings, I really must take my nap. You know, I must have my beauty rest,” Suri said. She abruptly turned on her heel and walked out of the room.

Frowning, Michael excused himself to see what was wrong with his wife.

Macy turned beet-red at the snub. He didn’t understand what was eating Ma, but more so, he was embarrassed that Ilana had been treated so rudely.

Ilana leaned over to Macy. “What did I do?” she asked.

Macy shook his head. “It’s not you; don’t worry about it. Come on, let’s take some latkes and get out of here.” For the first time in his life, Macy felt distanced from his mother. He felt like a stranger in his own home.

Abe Shine paced his law office floor. He’d had a good rest during Chanukah, but Chanukah was weeks ago, and he felt as though he hadn’t taken any time off. He walked from the conference room to the reception room and back to his own room. He stared out his window from the top floor office of the Brooklyn building, looked at the bright sun kicking off the dizzying traffic below, and then shut the blinds completely. He pulled open his top drawer and took out an old cigar. He’d been trying to quit, but he’d already bitten his nails down so far that they bled. He lit up the cigar and took a deep puff.

It was a good cigar. The best. Cuban.

He’d gotten them from an old client. Michael’s client, really.

Harry Green.

Abe exhaled a circle in the air. The ring of smoke grew bigger and then evaporated into nothingness. He blew a few more.

He got up, paced the hallway, and returned to his office.

Michael sat in the client’s seat talking to Suri on Abe’s phone.

“You have to get off the phone, Michael,” Abe wrote on a pad, throwing it in front of his partner.

“Right. Okay.” Michael nodded and said his goodbyes.

Abe slammed the door. “Michael, you didn’t listen to me.”

Michael picked up the tuna sandwich he’d bought for lunch. “Shoot.”

“The auditor was here.”

Michael nodded. “I know.”

“Why didn’t you listen to me? You had to keep working with Harry Green?”

Michael calmly took a bite of his sandwich. “Harry’s a good guy, Abe.”

Abe looked up at the ceiling. “Michael, Harry is a nice man, but he is also a shyster. He’s up to his armpits in crooked dealings. I know that. You know that. Everyone knows that.”

Michael nodded. “And now the Feds know that.”

Abe poked his cigar at Michael like a dart. “If you have been covering for him, Michael, you are going down.”

Michael sighed. “Why? As his legal counsel, I am entitled to privileged information.”

Abe pounded his fist on his desk. “Are you insane? Privileged information? I told you to have nothing to do with him. He’s bad news.”

“He pays his bills, Abe.”

“Who needs this aggravation? Your privileged information is going to leave a paper trail to your involvement in his dealings.” While Abe was furious, he was also relieved that he and Michael had agreed to keep some of their clients separate. At least Abe Shine had nothing to do with Harry Green.

Michael shrugged. “So he laundered Colombian drug money. Big deal. People do it every day.”

“I told you not to deal with him, Michael. It was all wrong. Even your son knew to leave him behind once he found out. What are you going to tell Aryeh when he finds out that you knew about this?”

The phone rang.

Abe let it ring.

Michael stared at him. “Don’t you want to get that call?”

Reluctantly Abe picked up the phone.

“Abe, that daughter of yours is driving me crazy!” Debby yelled on the other end.

Abe looked at Michael. “I need this? Like a hole in the head.”

“I can’t handle all her hysterics,” Debby went on. “She loves him. She hates him. She wants to marry him. She wants to fly to Disneyland and join the circus. Abe, we have to get away.”

“Dear, this isn’t a good time.” Abe flipped through the files he had on Green.

“Abe, it’s not a good time for me, either. I’m marrying off a daughter, my baby, and I can’t handle all this pressure. Daniel’s mother wants Rachel to go back to that fancy-shmancy shop in the city. Rachel says she hates all the flowers and doesn’t want to marry Daniel but will do it so I stop pushing her. I need this? I have a life, too, Abe Shine. I have clients to take care of, a house to run.”

“Yes, dear.”

“What’s ‘yes, dear’? Abe — I think I’m having a nervous breakdown!”

“So what do you suggest?”

“I want a little trip. Just to Miami Beach for a few days.”

“Every time we go to Florida, you spend most of your time at Loehmann’s. Can’t you do that from here and save the flight?”

“Oh please, Abe! I want to be near the ocean.”

“But you hate swimming.”

“Stop it, Abe! You know I like to look at the water.”

“You know I can’t take any time off right now. We’ll go in a month or two,” Abe said, quietly adding, “I think you’re going to give me a nervous breakdown.” Debby was shouting again, and he held the phone away from his ear.

Michael sat back in his chair and laughed.

“We’ll talk about it at home, dear,” Abe said, and hung up.

Michael ran his fingers through his thinning black hair. “It isn’t easy, huh, partner?”

Abe shook his head. “The Feds are preparing subpoenas, Michael. It’s only a matter of time.”

Michael nodded. “I know.”

“That’s it? That’s all you can say?”

Michael sighed. “You win some, you lose some.”

• • •

Eli sat in a plastic chair overlooking the huge glass windows while Leah paced the corridor of the airport, watching the airplanes take off and land, take off and land. Throngs of people entered and departed from the airport’s lobby, but Leah focused only on the airplanes.

If I accept the interview and get into Stanford, we will have to move to California,
she thought.
What do I tell Eli?
She didn’t know if she wanted to.

Her fiancé sat in a chair, his shoes sticky from the spilled soda of careless passengers, which was glued onto the floor. He watched his Leah pace furiously up and down the corridor. “Leah, what is it?”

Leah bit her fingernails. “How do you feel about Kaplinsky’s yeshiva?” she asked finally.

“I love it. It’s the best yeshiva in the whole world.”

Leah swallowed. “What about learning in a yeshiva in California? Could you?”

Their families had already committed to their life together in Brooklyn. But maybe she could have more?

Eli tried to unglue his feet from the sticky floor where he sat. “What’s up?”

Could she dream of moving away from Brooklyn and pursuing her goals or did she need to stay tethered to their community so that Eli could follow his? “I need to know. Could you learn as well away from Brooklyn, like you do in Kaplinsky’s?”

Throngs of tourists walked past, and Leah held her arms folded against her chest.
And then what? How would I support Eli? How could I continue studying — when I have to prepare to care for a family?

Eli took a sip of his Coke. “Leah, you’re usually intense, which is awesome, but I don’t get why you seem so on edge.”

Leah shook her head. She was used to pushing hard for her dreams only to be shot down at best, made fun of and talked about at worst. She’d already let Eli into her heart — and it was nice feeling for once that someone was on her team. But she wasn’t ready to let Eli Feldman, no matter how sweet he was, get into her head. She needed freedom to make her own decisions.

Leah stopped pacing and looked Eli in the eye. “I need to know this. Does Kaplinsky give you an environment that allows you to learn as best as possible?”

Eli hesitated. “Yes. Kaplinsky is the best yeshiva for me. My study partners are perfect. It took me years to cultivate just the right ones. The learning at Kaplinsky is unparalleled.”

Must she choose? Must it be Eli’s intellectual accomplishments — or her own?

“It’s worth any sacrifice to learn Torah at Kaplinsky’s yeshiva?” she asked, her voice cracking.

“I believe so,” he said and stood up from the sticky chair. “I’m willing to sacrifice almost anything to be privileged to learn Torah there.” He began to pace beside his future bride.

Foolish dream — me a scholar? Of course it’s a choice. It’s always a choice. Our families can’t help out if we leave Brooklyn. And he can’t join his parents’ business if we leave. There’s no way to support both of us studying — and his learning isn’t purely intellectual. It’s for the benefit of knowing how to live a moral life. A good and respectable life. It’s for the betterment of humanity. Anyway, there are plenty of schools in New York. We’ll just have to stick to the plan.

“That’s it, then,” Leah said, watching a plane take off and soar. She wondered if it was flying to Palo Alto.

“What are you thinking? Why all these questions, Leah?”

She shook her head. “No reason.”

Shimshon’s father, Rabbi Izzy, and his wife Zipora were concerned that their son was so head over heels about this girl. She wasn’t the virtuous one his grandmother had chosen for him; this was the younger sister, whom they hadn’t properly checked out yet. Shimshon had announced that he was planning to get engaged to her, though they knew little about her. The few things they’d unearthed about Shayna sounded iffy. Actually, quite negative.

“She likes things her own way.”

“She can be manipulative at times.”

“She has a temper.”

And that was from people who liked her.

Shimshon forcefully asserted himself on this matter:

“Shayna is my
basherte
. The other half of my soul. The one for me.”

He couldn’t stop praising her virtues. “Ma! She is warm and sweet, just like you!”

His parents tried hard to find the qualities Shimshon raved about. But the more they got to know her, the more they disliked her.