Murder At The Mikvah (21 page)

Later, when Judith privately voiced her objection, he respectfully reminded her that after her divorce she had reclaimed her maiden name, and not only for herself but for he and Sunny as well.

“But that’s completely different!” she said.

“
How
is it different?”

“Your father’s name—Richman—is no longer who I am,” Judith said firmly. “It isn’t who
any
of us are.”

Yehuda looked squarely into his mother’s eyes and nodded. “Our name defines us—not only to ourselves, but to the world,” he said.

Judith couldn’t argue. Her son had made his point, and he had somehow managed to do it while sounding more like a
man
than a fifteen-year-old adolescent.

When Yehuda flew home from Israel to introduce his bride to be, Judith welcomed her with a polite smile, while Yehuda’s grandparents looked like they were about to burst from happiness. Their grandson was a yeshiva
bachur
! He was studying to be a rabbi! And now, he was engaged to a nice Jewish girl! Judith knew her parents took pride in having a hand in Yehuda's upbringing, in knowing they had helped him successfully navigate through adolescence—without his eloping and running off to some crazy commune like his mother.

Nineteen-year-old Hannah Borsky was tall and slim and had a head full of spirally brown hair that bounced like a hundred coiled
Slinkies
each time she turned her head. At dinner that first night, Judith studied Hannah carefully, listened to what she said, looking for something,
anything
to find fault with. But the girl was intelligent, witty, and refreshingly open. She was born in Tennessee (“yes there are Jews there!”), and had moved to Israel with her parents at age ten. Hannah worked as a pre-school teacher. She loved children, she said, and wanted a large family.

Throughout the evening, Judith noticed Hannah and Yehuda sending private glances to one another. Was it possible that Yehuda had been right, that he had found his match?
Even Sunny, who could always be counted on for a critical assessment, gave a rare seal of approval of her brother’s wife to be.

The next day Sunny took Hannah to the farmers market and Judith seized the opportunity to sit her son down for a heart to heart. Something had occurred to her that might make him want to reconsider his marriage plans.

“See, it comes down to compatibility,” Judith said, speaking like someone who was an expert in the field. Whereas Hannah had grown up in a religious family, she told him,
he
had not. It wouldn’t be easy being married to someone so religious; in fact, it was equivalent to marrying someone from a foreign country, someone who barely spoke English! The cultural differences would most certainly strain the marriage—it was just a matter of time. But it wasn’t too late; they weren’t married yet. Yehuda could call off the wedding. It would be the honorable thing to do. Hannah would thank him later. She would be grateful that one of them had come to their senses before they made such a foolish mistake!

But even as the rehearsed words fell out of her mouth, Judith realized she was firing rounds at an invisible target; her words were pointless, directionless. The truth was Judith didn't trust her own judgment any more than she trusted her son’s. Who was she to say what made a good marriage, especially when she herself had failed so miserably at it? She had no way of knowing if Yehuda was making a mistake, so her efforts to protect him were futile.

Judith stopped talking and took in the image of her son as he stood across from her, his six-foot body towering over hers. Though she didn’t deserve it, he had been completely respectful as she lectured him, never interrupting or counter arguing, as she undoubtedly would have done in his position. As always, he was dressed in his yeshiva clothes—black pants and white dress shirt. His black velvet yarmulke was perched obediently atop his head and the thin white strings of his tzi tzi’s hung down his legs. Judith studied him carefully. Even with his height, he had a boyish face that made him look deceptively young. He always looked silly to her—penguin-like actually—as though he were in costume. But now studying him, there was something different, and not at all funny. He wasn’t a child. He was a man making his way in the world, creating the life he envisioned for himself. One day, he would be a rabbi. Even before then, he would be a husband, possibly a father. Judith took a deep breath. She felt utterly ashamed. How could she not have noticed it before? How could she have missed it? Somewhere along the way, her Ira had truly become Yehuda.

“Why isn’t she waking up, Nana?” Rachel asked again, snapping Judith abruptly from her daydream. At once, the
what if's
returned, spring boarding off her granddaughter's question.

Judith considered her words carefully before speaking. She knew firsthand that Hannah’s prognosis was
fair
at best. The doctor had said it was improbable that Hannah would come out of this thing unscathed. There
would
be damage—how much, and to what degree, he did not know. When Hannah woke up—
if
she woke up—there would be months, maybe years of rehabilitation. Judith knew of a woman—a former client— who had to learn how to feed herself all over again. But how could she explain any of this to a nine-year-old?
Even if
her son permitted her to speak truthfully, how could she tell Rachel that her mother was probably brain damaged? That she might not be able to speak, walk, or hold a fork. That there was a chance her mother might even
die
. Judith was thankful not to have to contemplate that one. Yehuda had given her—had given
everyone
—strict instructions with regard to the children. No details were to be spoken about what had actually transpired at the mikvah; it was to be referred to as “an accident.” The children were to be told that their mother had slipped and hit her head. And most importantly,
not a single word
was to be uttered about the extent of Hannah’s condition or medical prognosis. Judith disagreed with her son’s decision to withhold information from the kids. She believed that the children should be given some semblance of the truth, or at least as much information as they were capable of processing. Yehuda knew how she felt, but still insisted that the children were to be told that their mother was getting better and would come home soon.

Soon
.

How long could they keep saying that? Didn’t “soon” have an expiration date? Judith looked into Rachel’s expectant eyes and sighed. “Sweetheart, the doctors say that when your mommy hit her head, there was some damage which needs time to heal. Did you know that our bodies heal and grow when we’re asleep?”

Rachel shook her head and sniffled. “They do?”

Judith averted her eyes. “Yes, that’s right, honey. Your mommy’s body is sleeping now and repairing itself. And when she wakes up, she’ll be better.”

Rachel sat up and wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands. A smile slowly made it's way across her face. She was pleased with this new information.

“Then before you know it, she’ll be home,” Judith said.

 Twenty-eight

“Janine’s here!” Eli bellowed from the bottom of the stairs to nobody in particular.

Judith was upstairs packing her bag while speaking with a client on her cell phone. It was Sunday afternoon and she would be heading back to New York in a few hours.

“Janine’s here!”

With this second announcement, Judith quickly ended her call. “Okay David, I’m coming!” she hollered in the direction of the stairs.

“I’m not David! I’m Eli!”

Judith shook her head, admonishing herself. After spending the last three weekends with the kids, she should recognize their voices by now.

“Sorry Eli!” She gripped the railing and made her way down the stairs, taking care not to lose her footing.

“Mrs. Orenstein! How great to see you!” Janine said, eyeing her sleek black pantsuit and red
Manolo
pumps. “You look stunning!”

Judith reached for Janine’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “I keep telling you to call me Judith, dear. Now, come, I'll make us some tea.”

Janine waved her hands. “Oh, no. I don’t want to put you out.”

“It’s no trouble at all. I was about to have some myself.”

“Well, okay, but I can only stay for a minute,” Janine said, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “I have a date.”

In the kitchen, Judith filled the teakettle and Janine took a seat at the kitchen table. This was her first time in the house since the accident and she was stunned at how clean and orderly everything looked. There were no crumbs in the seat cushions. Even the toaster oven shined. She knew it was Lauren who deserved full credit.

“So you have a date?” Judith said pointedly. “Anyone I know?”

“No, I don't think so. His name is Howard—Howard Freed. We've been seeing each other for about two months now.”

“I see… and where is this Howard taking you?”

“To a coffee house down town,” Janine said, feeling like a teenager being interrogated. “It's Jazz
open mic
night.”

Judith sighed dramatically. “Have a wonderful time,” she said. “But remember Janine, an independent woman is a free woman.”

“Oh I wasn’t… we weren't….”

Judith raised her eyebrows in amusement. “In other words, don't quit your day job.” She held up her hand, putting an end to the discussion. “Now, as far as Yehuda, I expect he'll be back any time now; he's been at the hospital all afternoon.”

“Actually I was looking for Lauren,” Janine said.

Judith made no effort to conceal her surprise. Apparently the two women had forged a friendship through the Jewish Learning Center. But other than being the same age, Judith couldn’t see any compatibility. Janine was sweet, dependable, and consistent—a true asset to the Learning Center. Lauren, on the other hand was something of a mystery. Certainly, she was a help to Yehuda and the kids, but there was something about her that rubbed Judith the wrong way. The more time she spent with Lauren, the more she felt it. Judith couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there was definitely something strange about the girl. Even Rachel sensed it, and was uncomfortable. Rachel never actually
told
Judith this, but there was no need. Judith had seen it with her own eyes; like just that morning, when Lauren nonchalantly put her hand on Rachel's shoulder. The way Rachel flinched, you would have thought a spider was crawling on her! She nearly jumped out of her skin!

“Lauren's out running some errands, but she should be back any time now,” Judith said.

Janine glanced at her watch. “I don't have a lot of time… Instead of waiting, would it be all right if I left this with you?” She reached into her bag and pulled out two sheets of printer paper. “What I am about to present you with is the triple confirmed volunteer schedule for the next two weeks,” Janine said, grinning proudly.

“
Triple confirmed
?” Judith laughed, as she took the papers. “But honestly, I thought we already had volunteers. Both freezers are packed, that’s for sure.”

Janine nodded her understanding. “So many people want to help and I suppose making a meal is something easy enough to do.” She pointed at the paper in Judith's hand. “But that list has to do with
childcare
. Apparently, there was some miscommunication…”

“Oh?” Judith interrupted. “My son never mentioned anything.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Janine said. “Lauren’s not one to complain, but she did confide in me that some of the volunteers never showed up this past week, which left her in a bind. Did you know she missed several of her classes?”

“She did? Oh that’s terrible!” Judith said. “The poor girl shouldn’t have to miss her classes!” For some reason, she liked the idea of Lauren spending more time in school, less time with Judith's family.

Janine nodded and held the papers up for Judith to see. “I agree completely. That's why I've lined up volunteers to come while Lauren's in school: Monday, Tuesday and Thursday from 7 AM through 3 PM. Lauren’s at the house by then, and she can handle things on her own until bedtime.”

“No night classes then?” Judith asked. Now that she thought about it, she wasn’t so keen on the idea of Lauren playing mommy to her grandchildren and tucking them in every night.

The teakettle whistled and Judith got up to turn off the stove. “Is green tea okay?”

She brought over two oversized cups of tea and a plastic bear-shaped bottle of honey. As Janine stirred her tea, Judith took another look at the schedule.

“When you see it all laid out on paper like this, you realize how much work goes into just a single day.”

Janine cupped her mug with two hands and took a tentative sip. “It’s quite a job taking care of such a large family. I don’t know how Hannah and your son do it. They certainly are exceptional parents.”

Judith sipped her tea silently. After a moment, she set it down and leaned in toward Janine. “Can I ask you something, Janine?”

“Sure.”

“It's about Yehuda.”

“Okay.”

“Has he been coping all right at work?”

Janine felt a bit odd being taken in as a confidante by the older woman. She took a moment to consider her answer. “Well, given everything that’s happened, yes, I would say he's doing surprisingly well. In fact, I think the teaching might be keeping him sane.”

Judith recognized the wisdom in Janine's statement. It was true; work
was
the ultimate distraction
.

“Well Janine,” Judith said, scribbling on a piece of paper, “I'd like you to have my cell phone number, just in case.”

“In case?”

Judith wasn’t quite sure herself. “Call for any reason; if my son's behavior changes, for example.” Judith raised her cup to her lips, but set it down before taking a sip. “Or perhaps if you notice Lauren…”

“If I notice Lauren
what
?” Janine asked.

Again, Judith wasn’t exactly sure. “If you notice her acting oddly… from all the stress I mean.”

Janine looked at the number before slipping the paper into her purse. She fought back the urge to say something else. “Sure. No problem.”

“My son’s very fortunate to have you, Janine. You’re invaluable—the way you look after things. You keep the center running so smoothly. And, more importantly, you manage to do it with a smile on your face!”

“Thank you Mrs. Or… Thank you
Judith
. That's very kind of you, but truthfully,
I
feel like the lucky one!” She held her hand over her heart. “I love my job, I love your son…” She blushed at her poor choice of words. “What I mean is, I couldn’t ask for a better boss.”

“Well, then it’s a win-win all around!” said Judith. Her fondness for Janine grew each time she saw her.

Judith's phone rang from the other room and she excused herself to go answer it. While she was gone, Janine looked again at the volunteer schedule. She had to admit, the list was solid and impressive. Lauren would be so surprised. Probably relieved too. Yehuda had no idea just how much Lauren was doing for his family, making it so he could come and go without worrying about matters on the home front.

“Just one of my secretaries,” Judith said, returning a few minutes later.

“They work on weekends?”

“Of course,” Judith said, sounding surprised at the question.

Suddenly David popped his head in the kitchen. “Nana, can you help me tie my shoes?” he asked nonchalantly.

Judith gazed critically at the long trail of white shoelace before looking up at her grandson.

“What's this? You mean to tell me you don't know how to tie your own shoes?” She narrowed her eyes and wagged her finger. “You better watch out or your baby sister will be tying hers before you!”

David's face dropped. He spun around just in time to see Lauren standing in the doorway with a look of empathy in her eyes. Instinctively, he ran toward her, burrowing his face in the crook of his arm.

Judith tapped the schedule. “It’s heart warming to see so many people giving of themselves,” she said to Janine, “especially when they have enough going on in their own lives. So impressive!”

But Janine's attention was on Lauren, watching as she gently stroked David's head. How could Judith not realize that she had just humiliated her grandson? Couldn’t she at least see that he was crying? And what about Lauren standing in the doorway? Judith hadn't even acknowledged her! This was how Lauren was treated after all she was doing for the Orenstein family?

“Janine?”

“Wha…?”

“Are you all right, dear? I was saying how heartwarming it is to see such generosity.”

Janine took a deep breath. “Well, your son and daughter-in-law are very well known and very much loved,” she responded softly. “People genuinely want to help.” Janine paused, her eyes remaining fixed on Lauren and David. “And then there are those few unique individuals… Individuals ready and willing to do whatever it takes to show how much they care.”