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Authors: Michaela Greene

Dating Kosher (21 page)

BOOK: Dating Kosher
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“MREEEOOOOOOOOW!” His protests were heart-wrenching, but it was unavoidable and for his own good.

“Okay, take him out there, I’ll be ready in two minutes.”

Closing the bathroom door, I took a deep breath and wished I kept a stash of valium or other sedative handy in the condo. Even a good swig of booze would straighten me out. Looking in the mirror, I cringed: I looked like shit.

Booze wasn’t going to help. Instead, I gave myself a little pep talk: “Get yourself together, Shosh.” I took another breath, forcing myself into gear.

Two minutes later, as promised, I emerged from the bathroom with Bev’s dress in a hanging bag. I had reduced my grooming down to a quick French twist and a couple coats of mascara, dumping the rest of my makeup into my bag should I have time at the hotel later to fix myself up.

“Wow, you look great,” Nate said. He even sounded like he meant it this time. He automatically picked up the cat carrier and turned toward the door.

Armani let out another plaintive meow.

“Thanks, let’s go.” I grabbed my keys and followed him out the door. “This is by far, the shittiest day of my life.”

“Glad I could be a part of it.”

I dropped my shoulders and gave Nate a half-smile. “Sorry, that’s not what I meant.” We got to the elevators and I pressed the button.

“I know. Just not a lucky day for you. Are you always this unlucky? Did you torture babies in a past life or something?”

“Lots of them, obviously,” I sighed, getting on the elevator and pressing the L button.

“Just think. It can only get better.”

I admired his optimism, but couldn’t help thinking that it could also get worse. I wasn’t dead yet. Keeping my thought to myself, I just smiled up at him, thankful, and not for the first time, for his company.

* * *

“Okay, I know this isn’t how this is usually done, but I need to drop my cat off. I found him on the bathroom floor, which isn’t strange, but he’s bleeding from God knows where. The problem is that I can’t stay; it’s my dad’s wedding and I’ve already been late for the ceremony. I’ll leave you my Visa, just please take him.”

I took a breath, digging in my purse for my Visa card, waiting for the receptionist at the emergency vet clinic to comprehend my babbled nonsense.

“Um, we can’t treat animals without their owners here.”

Being on the edge of a nervous breakdown, I almost burst into tears. But before I could even open my mouth, Nate stepped in. “I know this isn’t conventional, but really, we will come back right after the wedding. Please…”

The receptionist fidgeted and looked from Nate back to me. I forced a smile on my face.

“Just give me a second,” she said before disappearing into the back.

Nate placed Armani’s carrier on the floor. The waiting room was empty save a middle-aged woman sitting in the corner holding a dog—some sort of wiry terrier. The poor little thing shook like a revved up vibrator set to multiple orgasm speed.

Poor thing. “What happened?” I asked the woman.

The woman frowned. “Would you believe he ate my father’s hearing aid?”

For the first time that day, I was able to laugh. Realizing the gravity of the situation, I covered my mouth with my hand. “I’m so sorry—that’s not funny.”

Shaking her head, the woman dismissed my laughter. “I thought it was funny too.” She rolled her eyes. “The first time it happened.”

“Oh my God,” was all I could say.

“The doctor said it was okay,” the receptionist said from behind me, materializing from nowhere.

I turned toward her and handed her my Visa.

She took the card and ran it through the machine. “It’s ninety-nine for the initial consultation and then we’ll reassess after he’s been looked at.”

I nodded, holding my breath waiting for the approval. The receptionist tried to return my card, but I waved her off. “Keep it, do whatever you need to do. We’ll be back right after the wedding. Thank you so much.”

“Good luck!” I called to the guardian of the terrier as Nate and I rushed out the door.

* * *

We missed Dad and Susan’s introduction. As we jogged through the lobby of the hotel, we could see through the open doors to the ballroom where the large circle of guests was dancing, arm in arm.
Hava Nagilah
could be heard even in the lobby and those who didn’t dance were on the sidelines clapping. I longed to be in the thick of the dance with my dad and his new wife, but I still had to deliver Bev’s dress.

“Go, I’ll take the dress up,” Nate said, reading my mind.

I looked up at him. “Sure?”

He nodded, taking the hanger from my hand.

Before I realized what I was doing, I had stood up on my tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks. You’re the best.”

“Just save a dance for me,” he said and then crossed the lobby to the elevator.

“I will,” I yelled over my shoulder, afraid I was going to miss the end of the dance. As I entered the ballroom, the band was on the stage to my immediate left. I stopped and beckoned the leader to bend down so I could speak with him. He obliged.

“Keep this going for a few minutes at least?”

He smiled and nodded, turning back to his ensemble.

I skipped over to the moving outer circle of bodies, waiting for the right second to jump in and join. There was a second inner ring consisting of Dad, Susan, Jacob and the ever-miserable Jen moving in the opposite direction. My Uncle Moishe noticed me and nodded, breaking the outer ring so I could join in beside him.

As I whizzed around the circle, my right arm entwined with Moishe’s and my left with a stranger’s (probably a gentile lawyer, he didn’t seem to know what he was doing, but was giving it the old college try) I felt good. There was nothing quite like a Jewish wedding to cheer you up: you were always guaranteed a good time.

On my third trip around the dance floor, Susan noticed me and leaned in to holler something at my dad. He looked up, searching the circle, his eyes finally finding me. He let go of Susan’s hand and reached out to me, not missing a step as he continued dancing. I broke away from the outer circle and moved in where I took his and Susan’s hands.

The room began to whirl around faster as the song began to speed up toward a big climax. I was breathing heavy already and wondered how some of the older people kept up. Somehow they did, their faces a blur of smiles and open mouths as they sang along with the band.

Finally, after people began dropping out from exhaustion, the band brought the song to a finale and people stood, clapping and trying to catch their breath. Dad, his chest heaving, leaned toward me and kissed me on the cheek. “I’m so glad you made it back. You look great, honey.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I said, forcing the words out between ragged gasps. Forget spinning classes, my gym should have
hora
workouts.

“Where’s your friend? I’d like to meet him.”

I searched the crowd, looking for Nate’s tall frame. He was nowhere to be seen. “I’m not sure, he went to take Bev her dress. Maybe he hasn’t made it down yet.”

“Excuse me, Shosh. Marty, there’s someone I want you to meet,” Susan smiled at me apologetically before she grabbed Dad’s hand, gently leading him toward one of the tables full of people.

I wasn’t about to stand by myself on the dance floor as the band segued into a waltz, so I decided to see if I could find my date and/or my best friend. As I left the ballroom in search of them, I saw Nate standing in the lobby talking to my grandmother. She held his hand as he leaned his body slightly toward her.

“Bubby?” I approached them.

She turned to look at me. “Oh, Shoshie. I took a little tumble on my way back from the bathroom and this young gentleman helped me up.” She looked up at Nate, pure adoration in her eyes. If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn she was swooning.

“Are you okay?” Leaning over, I took her hand and kissed her on the cheek.

“Sure, for an old lady,” she touched her hair, making sure it was in place.

“This is Nate Cooper, Bubby. He’s my…uh…friend.”

She looked from me back up to Nate. “Oh. Are you any relation to…”

I jumped in, “No, he’s not, Bubby. Nate, this is my grandmother, Sophie Rosenblatt.”

Nate nodded. “It’s a great pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Rosenblatt.”

“And you, Nate Cooper. You’re a nice boy. Thank you for helping me.”

Nate just smiled.

“You into picking up old ladies?” I winked.

The elevator doors opened and Bev, fully dressed, emerged. Noticing us immediately, she walked over. “Hi Mrs. Rosenblatt, you look so nice.”

“Thank you, Beverly.” Bubby smoothed her hands over her dress. “I’ll leave you kids, I’m just going to find my seat.”

“Can I help you to a table?” Nate asked, offering Bubby his arm.

My grandmother’s eyes twinkled as she nodded up at Nate, sparing a wink for me as she looped her arm through his. “What a lovely young man.”

“Looks like Nate’s
in
with your grandmother,” Bev said once they were out of earshot.

“Yeah, looks like it.” I watched as they walked slowly into the ballroom, him leaning over as she spoke to him.

Bev took a deep breath. “I need a drink, please tell me the bar is open.”

I nodded. “Amen, sister. I could definitely use to self-medicate. It’s in the ballroom, let’s go.”

* * *

The rest of the wedding guests had been treated to cocktails and hors d’oeuvres immediately after the ceremony, but since I was otherwise occupied by changing my clothes and rushing my cat to the emergency vet, my stomach remained empty until dinner was served at almost nine-thirty. Nate must have also been starving, but didn’t complain.

The band leader announced dinner was served and asked for everyone to take their seats. I had been in mine for fifteen agonizing minutes, eyeing the pats of butter in the center of the table in my desperate hunger. If someone were to actually
see
me slipping one of the tabs of pure fat off of its paper square and onto my tongue, I would be absolutely mortified, so my stomach remained empty. It complained loudly, making me thankful for the band’s nonstop music.

Nate and I had been among the last to pick up our seating place cards from the large skirted table in the lobby, so I wasn’t sure who would be sitting with us; Susan had just said that I would be sitting with ‘family.’ Considering my seemingly never-ending string of awful luck, I could just guess who she meant by that.

Sure enough, after the announcement, Jen shuffled over to the table and sat down across from me, not bothering to even acknowledge Nate or me. Fine by me. I fought the urge to say something under my breath but my bubby always told me that ladies didn’t badmouth others. Not that it ever stopped me before, but Nate didn’t need to hear me being catty—he’d already seen some of the worst parts of me and quite frankly, I wasn’t so sure why he was still around. I was just glad he was.

My cousins, Uncle Moishe’s brood, along with their respective significant others took their places at the table, filling in the empty seats surrounding Nate, myself and Jen.

Mitchell, the oldest of Moishe’s kids and by far, the most boring, pulled out a chair for his wife, Sheila, who was very pregnant. With a loud grunt, and looking very uncomfortable, she dropped herself heavily into her chair. I struggled mentally, probing in my memory banks, trying to remember the Sunday breakfast with Dad several months before when he had told me they were expecting and how it was such a miracle. I remembered something vague about them having to do some fertility treatments and it had cost a fortune. They could afford it, though; Mitchell was some sort of big wig at a computer company. Microsoft or maybe IBM; I could never remember.

I smiled at Sheila and she smiled back, exhaling deeply as tiny beads of sweat erupted from her forehead. Yikes, I hoped she didn’t go into labor; I’d had enough drama for one day.

My bitch of a cousin Lauren and her boyfriend approached the table and claimed the two chairs on the other side of Nate. If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn that Lauren worked weekends as a dominatrix; God knows she sure had the part down. She wore a slim black gown over her bony frame, three-inch stilettos, and way too much thick black goth makeup, matching her blue-black hair. Her boyfriend was nondescript other than the invisible leash she had installed around his neck. I never could get his name right. Mark or Mike or something; she let him speak so infrequently, that it hardly mattered.

Her eyes flicked to the bandage on my forehead. “Botched Botox injections?”

I scowled at her. “Sit down, Lauren.”

Lauren barely had her ass in her chair before she shoved her hand at Nate, not even giving me the opportunity to introduce him.

“Hello, I’m Lauren, Shoshanna’s first cousin. Never
Laurie
, only Lauren, please.” She closed her hand over Nate’s like a snake closes its jaws around a mouse. “And you are?”

Nate smiled broadly, as though he was sincerely pleased to make my cousin’s acquaintance. “I am Shoshanna’s escort, Nate. Never Nathan, only Nate, please.”

For the tiniest of milliseconds, Lauren faltered, her lip quivering ever so slightly. She did recover, but not before I was given the extreme satisfaction of seeing her waver. I’d never seen her off-balance and that in itself was worth all of the day’s drama and stress.

Her stumble was not long-lived. “Well,
Nate
, it’s nice to meet you. Shoshanna hasn’t mentioned you,” she purred, keeping her eyes on Nate’s.

“That’s because I haven’t seen you since last Passover,” I reminded her.

She looked at me for the first time, her eyes narrowed to slits framed by her thick black mascaraed eyelashes. “Ah yes, the buffet where you gave new meaning to the term ‘all you can eat shrimp.’ Nate, do
you
keep kosher?”

Reading between the lines, I knew Lauren was just being nosy, trying to figure out if Nate was Jewish. As if I would ever bring a gentile to a wedding! (Okay, the irony is not lost on me, but as if I would ever
openly
bring a gentile to a wedding!)

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a sardonic grin slide onto Jen’s face; she was enjoying this. I wanted to beat it off of her. Why did I have to be surrounded by such bitches?

BOOK: Dating Kosher
13.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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