Brooklyn Love (Crimson Romance) (28 page)

“Are you cold? Do you need a jacket?” Aryeh asked.

“No. I … It’s just that … I think I need to get home.”

Yissachar impatiently tapped Aryeh on his shoulder. “When can we see the tigers, Aryeh?”

Aryeh nodded and then turned to Hindy. “Hindy, Yissachar has to show me the animals at the zoo,” Aryeh said. “If you don’t mind joining us, I could take you home when we’re done.”

“I’d love to join you. Thanks,” she said, her sadness melting into a smile.

The air was cool as they all walked together to zoo, the hoots and roars and bleats from the animals mixing in a cacophony of sound.

“That’s a really lovely sweater, Hindy,” Aryeh said as he purchased the tickets.

“Soft,” whispered little Yissachar, wide-eyed, as he petted the fuzzy angora with a single finger.

Hindy smiled shyly. “Thank you.”

“What would you like to see first, Yissachar?” Aryeh asked the boy.

“Pandas!” the child squealed.

“To the pandas!” Aryeh said.

“You’re great with kids,” Hindy noted as they walked toward the sea lions bathing in a pool.

Aryeh looked at the sea lions. “I’d love to have a bunch of my own.”

“You want a bunch of sea lions?” Hindy asked, genuinely surprised.

“No, Hindy. Kids,” he said, and stared into her eyes while Yissachar laughed at the animals’ antics. “I’d love to have a bunch of my own kids.”

Hindy looked away at her muddy shoes. “Aryeh, isn’t that what couples talk about on dates?” she said quietly.

Yissachar clapped his hands.

Aryeh stood still. “Yes.”

“Are you dating someone, now, Aryeh?” Hindy held her breath.
Don’t play with me, God. Don’t humiliate me, God. Don’t ever let him go.

Yissachar opened his mouth wide and barked like a sea lion.

Aryeh steadied his gaze and spoke simply. “No. I’m not seeing anyone now, Hindy.”

Hindy looked up, returning Aryeh’s gaze. “I’d love to have a bunch of kids, too, Aryeh,” she said.
With you.

Aryeh grinned, lifting the little boy from his shoulders to the ground. “Hindy, would you consider us a match?”

A fresh set of tears trickled down Hindy’s cheeks, but these were tears of joy.
God? I owe you one. Big time.
“Oh, yeah!” she said, fresh tears streaming down her face.

Yissachar jumped up and down, mimicking the moves of the sea lions.

Aryeh leaned toward her, folding his arms against his chest. “Would you like me to find a matchmaker to make this date official?”

“Aryeh,” Hindy laughed, turning her face to the sun, pointing toward the heavens. “We can’t do better than
Him
.”

• • •

On the Shabbos morning before Shayna and Shimshon’s wedding, Zipora Kaplinsky was ill at ease. The wedding was going to happen, despite her reservations. She had no proof that Shayna wasn’t a virgin, and her husband had decided that suspicion of heresy was not grounds enough for disrupting a match. Zipora Kaplinsky did take her son Shimshon aside that morning before they all left for shul.

“I’m not going to pretend that I like this. I know you care for Shayna very much, but I think you are still very young. When you have more experiences, you might make a better choice for yourself.”

Shimshon, who had always been a reasonable young man, flared up in anger. “This is what you are telling me? That my own mother doesn’t care about my happiness?”

Zipora started to cry. “Of course I want you to be happy. But I understand women better than you do, and Shayna will not help you get to where you need to go. She’s spoiled, selfish, and has terrible manners. She doesn’t care about you. She doesn’t appreciate your depth, your intelligence, and your refinement! She’ll destroy you, Shimshon; you will live only to serve her superficial whims. And what will you do with children who are like her? You’ve been cocooned by intellectuals all your life — will you even know how to deal with her children?”

“Enough! Stop it, Ma! How could you do this to me? And on the morning of my
aufruf
, no less! I’ve never seen you like this — so childish. So spiteful! You don’t know how she makes me feel, Ma! And if you push me to break off this shidduch, then it’s on your head. If I walk away from Shayna because of you, I will never marry anyone else. I’m telling you.”

Zipora shook her head. “You haven’t dated enough. What do you enjoy about being with Shayna? Are you embarrassed being the chosen one? This is how you punish your mother? By marrying a girl who’s wrong for you?” Feeling hopeless, Zipora sobbed, and then she finally went to her room. She knew her son meant every word he said.

• • •

Later that morning, all the women were throwing little bags of candy toward the men’s side of the shul. Shimshon had read the Torah in front of the congregation, and the women threw more candies toward the groom, as was the custom.

Shimshon scanned the ladies’ section. He saw Shayna’s older sister Hindy, who looked almost radiant; Shimson wondered what had come over her. He saw Shayna’s younger sister, Freidy, and some of his relatives. But he noticed his mother was not there. His own mother had not come to his
aufruf
, his party in shul.

So that’s how it was going to be.

He’d always planned on being close with his mother as an adult, a married man. But if he had to choose one woman over the other, then he would.

If he had to choose, he chose Shayna.

• • •

“Please don’t sit there!” Suri implored her guests.

Murad and Valentine Zohar looked at each other quizzically. They had come to talk with Suri and Michael, upon Macy and Ilana’s request, to discuss their wish to marry. Since Ilana’s immediate family was back in Israel, she’d asked her aunt and uncle to step in for her parents.

“I don’t want you to dirty up the couch,” said Suri. “Let’s sit in the kitchen.”

Taken off guard, they followed Suri from the living room into the kitchen.

“I’m so sorry Michael couldn’t join us for this, uh, chat, but he is overwhelmed with work right now.” Suri turned her back to them and, opening the refrigerator door, she rummaged through the shelves to find the pastries.

Murad whispered to Valentine, “This isn’t working out, dear.”

“Shh,” she whispered to her husband. And then she turned to Suri. “Mrs. Kaufman.” She paused, waiting for Suri to say, “No, please, call me Suri,” but she did not. “Mrs. Kaufman,” Valentine continued, “we came on the behest of the kids. Your son Macy and our niece, Ilana — who’s like our own daughter — ”

“Oh, that Ilana is quite a child,” Suri interjected.

“Thank you.” Valentine felt more encouraged. “Your Macy is a fine young man.”

Suri nodded, removing the pastries from the refrigerator. “You hit the nail on the head. He is young. Macy is so young. Too young for any real responsibilities, if you know what I mean.”

Valentine froze, realizing where Suri was headed.

Suri placed the pastries, still in the bag, on the kitchen counter. “The girl keeps putting the pastries in the back of the fridge. I’ve told her a million times to put pastries in the door where I can find them.”

Valentine pursed her lips.

“Supposedly Marissa doesn’t speak a word of English.” Suri peeked into the paper bag. “But I’m telling you, I bet she knows every word and puts the pastries in the back just to spite me.”

Valentine clutched her husband’s hand.

“Take a pastry, please. They’ll go stale if I keep them another day,” Suri said, pointing to the closed paper bag. “It’s just impossible to find good help these days.”

Murad patted his wife’s hand and cleared his throat. “Mrs. Kaufman, your son has expressed his intentions to our niece as well as to ourselves that he would like to marry our niece Ilana — ”

Suri violently shook her head. “No. He is only nineteen. He’s not on his feet yet, by any stretch of the imagination.”

Murad took the lead. “But they have been seeing each other for a while, and — ”

Suri clutched the white paper bag of pastries, her knuckles turning almost as white. “We are so sorry if Macy has inconvenienced your lovely niece in any way.”

Valentine composed herself. “I understand how you might feel, Mrs. Kaufman, but the kids seem to really love each other. If they want to be together, we are prepared to help them out until they are on their feet.”

Suri wrinkled her nose. “We will not support them in any way. Ever.”

“We shouldn’t stand in their way.” Valentine’s voice rose an octave.

Suri shook her head. “No. Macy is not ready. Our conversation is over. Let me show you out. Please don’t get tracks from your shoes on the floor, Mrs. Zohar. The girl just polished it.”

As the Zohars walked to the car, Suri called after them, “Take the pastries! Otherwise I’ll have to throw them out!”

Murad and Valentine looked at each other incredulously. Murad helped his wife into her seat and started the ignition. “The boy is sweet, but his mother is insane.”

They drove a while in silence toward their home. “What would happen if our Ilana got mixed up with that family?” Valentine sighed.

Murad pulled the car into their driveway. “It wouldn’t be good.”

Valentine stared out her window and held back her tears. “This will break her heart, Murad. She loves him.”

“There’s more to marriage than love,” Murad said, leaning over to hug his wife. “In a family like that, how could a marriage survive?”

Valentine rested her head on her husband’s shoulder and cried. They would have to discourage Ilana from getting more involved with this crazy family. That Suri was a bad influence. As far as Murad and Valentine Zohar were concerned, they actually agreed with Suri Kaufman. This match should not happen.

Rachel sat up in bed and watched Jacob dozing in his chair.
He’s been sitting by my side for days, she thought, and I’m not even his bride.
She noticed the way his thick black hair curled over his eyes.
It’s more than physical attraction,
she decided.
I’m attracted to his soul. Jacob Zohar has a beautiful soul. But I’m still officially engaged to another man.

• • •

Rachel put the phone to her ear.

“Mamale!” It was Ma. “How could you do that — terrify us like that?”

Rachel stared at the renderings on her cast. “I was in an accident, Ma.”

“We know. Are you okay? I can come home right now if you need me.”

Rachel shrugged. “Ma, finish your trip. I don’t need you. I’m feeling a lot better now.”

“You don’t need me? My baby! How are you getting by?”

“The Zohars have been so kind, and everyone has been by visiting.”

“Zohars. That’s nice. But your brothers have been helping?”

“They are busy with their own lives, Ma. And they all agree I shouldn’t be moved now.”

“What happened exactly?”

Rachel wiggled her toes; Ilana had polished them hot pink. “Daniel pushed me into the car, Ma. He was drunk. He left me at the accident.”

Rachel heard her mother gasp.

“But Daniel must be helping you now. Let me talk to him.”

“He hasn’t called, Ma. I have no clue where he is.”

Ma let out a number of expletives in Yiddish.

“He’s a real gem you insisted I marry, huh, Ma?” Rachel said goodbye and hung up the phone.

• • •

Rachel’s head still throbbed; her muscles ached. She slept a lot. A short walk on her crutches left her exhausted.

All her girlfriends had come by at least once, and even Fitzgerald and Christine had made it over from Manhattan to sign her casts. It didn’t surprise her that their drawings of flowers and rockets were the most beautifully rendered.

Conspicuously absent were any calls from her fiancé. Finally, five days after the accident, Daniel called.

Rachel stood with her crutches on the Zohars’ back porch, where Jacob and Ilana sat at a small wooden picnic table nibbling on some snacks and studying — Ilana, for midterm exams and Jacob, his Talmud. The air still had a chill in it, but the abundant sunshine brought everyone outdoors.

Rachel held the phone close to her ear. “Yes?”

“This is Daniel Gold,” he said coldly.

“I thought you were dead,” she said.

“No. I’m fine. That sure was a little fender bender we got into.”

“You pushed me into your car, drove crazy drunk, and nearly got me killed. You should be arrested. You call that a fender bender?”

Jacob and Ilana looked up from their books and watched Rachel as she talked to Daniel.

“My Porsche got totaled,” Daniel said.

“Who cares about your stupid Porsche? I’m in agony, you schmuck!”

“Accidents happen.”

“You drove drunk and left the scene of the crime.”

“Crime? It was an accident! I left to get medical attention. I have a doctor’s note to prove it.”

“Do you think this is a trial?”

“I’m a lawyer, in case you forgot. I had my breath analyzed later that evening.”

“If you weren’t drunk, why did you leave me like that? Why didn’t you call? You haven’t even asked me how I am.”

“Obviously I’m concerned about how you are doing — I’m calling you now, aren’t I?”

“Where were you all this time?”

“It took a while to figure out how to find you.”

“My friends all figured it out days ago.”

Daniel let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. Really. Let me make it up to you. I bought you a gold bracelet from Tiffany’s I’m sure you will love.”

“I don’t want a bracelet, Daniel.”

“You’re right. That was presumptuous. I can exchange it for something else. What would you prefer? A necklace? Earrings? I noticed a pair of emerald earrings at Tiffany’s I thought would look great against your hair.”

“No. I don’t want earrings, either.”

Daniel paused. “So what? What else could you possibly want?”

“I want love, Daniel. I want a committed partner who will love me. Who will be with me through the journey of life. Who won’t push me into cars crazy drunk. Who would do whatever it took to never, ever hurt me. Can you give me
that
, Daniel?”