Ezra 10.
I stare into the surprisingly wide eyes of the newest addition to the Kosher Nostra mishpocheh . Gershon Samuel Holofcener. We’ve all taken to calling him Shon, like Shawn…but Jewish. His eyes are sort of blue, but I’m assured they will change colors as he gets older since no one in his bloodline has blue eyes. Babies are strange. Cute, cuddly, adorable, but that all changes on a dime turning them into loud, feral beasts with single minded focus that they themselves do not understand. Honestly, they are a little like the twins.
As I watch him take in the world around him before his blinking becomes slower until his eyes close, I can’t help but imagine what Dottie’s children would look like…what our children might look like. It’s a terrifying thought in that it doesn’t terrify me at all. I should be freaked out, but I’m not. The little human in my arms has my fealty, my protection, and my love. And he’s not even mine or related to me by blood. The thought of my own child is overwhelming in that the emotions, the devotion could drown me, yet I think I’d happily succumb.
A boy with Dottie’s dark brown fathomless eyes. A little girl short and fierce like her mother. I know the surface stuff of Dottie’s life, I didn’t want Yak to give me more than that, but her life wasn’t glitter and rainbows, that much anyone can gather based on her parentage. She didn’t just endure, she thrived with her sisters. And that is what draws me to her. The power she possesses is captivating.
I’m not a saint, as you all know. And I probably would have offered my “services” to most women in her situation outside the elevator, but I would never put the mishpocheh at risk by engaging with someone directly after carrying out justice in the Kosher Nostra name. But I saw her, I heard her, and I couldn’t resist.
And 27 days’ worth of unanswered gifts and glimpses into who I am hasn’t disavowed me of my growing obsession. And it should have. I don’t push myself on women, ever, let alone when they’ve made it clear they are uninterested. After that afternoon in her office, I should have left well enough alone. But Gershon was born, and Zeppo and Ruthie convinced me to cut myself open and bleed for her. Show her the real me. And I did. She didn’t respond once. Didn’t call me or text me after I sent her my number. Not even a carrier pigeon or smoke signal. Nothing. I ranted and raved, bitched and moaned, and Ruthie and Zep listened to it all. When I lost steam and slumped onto the couch, they exchanged a look which had red hot searing jealousy whipping through my body, then smiled at me like I was a silly little boy. Ruthie said to give it another week. I wanted to argue, tell her that I refuse to become a stalker, but the serene smile she gave me calmed me instantly. Put me at ease and had hope bubbling in my veins. I hated it. She’s a sorceress. And I told Zeppo as much, he only laughed and kissed her hard.
“Alright, that’s enough. Give him here.” Sophie doesn’t give me a chance to respond, just deftly steals Shon from me and buries her nose in his neck and sniffs loudly. “That’s the stuff.”
“Quit hogging the new baby smell!” Harper squeals, sitting next to Sophie on the other couch and shoving her face into the other side of his neck.
“He’s not a car.” I mumble, grumpy that Shon was stolen from me.
“Family of Vampires.” Aunt Gert, Sophie and Jonah’s mom, tsks. “Look at them.” She motions to Jonah and his dad Morris and then the girls. Jonah and Uncle Morris wear matching sappy grins. There is softness in Jonah’s eyes as he watches his woman fawn over the baby. “I see that look, son.” She points a finger at Jonah. “Wedding first, then you two can have one of your own.”
“No need.” Jonah says with a shrug as he sits on the arm of the couch next to Harper.
“There is absolutely a need for a wedding! You two have been engaged for 8 months! And you haven’t let me start planning anything.”
Harper glances up at Jonah with an uneasy expression. I’m instantly on alert, sitting on the edge of my seat. Jonah leans down, pressing a gentle and lingering kiss to her forehead, then straightens up and looks his mother right in the eyes.
“We’re already married. Since November.”
The silence that follows his confession is stifling. As if sensing a disturbance in the force, Moshe, Seril, Aunt Esther, Uncle David, Aunt Judi, Uncle Aaron, Ruthie and Zeppo enter the room. Seril and Moshe walk straight to their son and pluck him from the clutches of the vampires. Moshe hands Shon to Seril, sits down in a recliner, and pulls Seril into his lap. His entire world wrapped in his arms. Damn. Man is lucky. He almost lost it all last year and the way he holds them tight demonstrates he's aware of what he has to lose should he fuck up again.
“Gert? What’s wrong?” Aunt Esther and mom crowd the visibly distraught woman. Like a lioness, Aunt Esther bares her teeth at the rest of the room. “Who did what? Who do I have to gut?”
Jonah’s dad speaks up, his voice gruff, “Jonah and Harper married last November. Didn’t tell any of us.”
“What?!?” Most of the room echoes.
“Calm down.” Jonah says, raising his hands. Harper smacks him on the shoulder. “Sorry. Uh…calm down at your leisure. Far be it for me to tell you how or when to feel. But, well…”
Harper sighs, clasps his hand and addresses the room. “Mom. Dad.” It takes a moment for her words to sink in but when they do, Aunt Gert and Uncle Morris beam to be acknowledged as such. My own heart skips a beat at the joy that radiates from them. “We didn’t do it to hurt anyone. A lot happened last year, the family was occupied, as it should have been,” she says before anyone can argue, “with Seril’s pregnancy, Ruthie and Zeppo, Tevye’s unexpected acquisition.” She looks up at Jonah again, a slow smile stretching her lips as their eyes lock.
“We didn’t want to wait for the world to settle. For it to be the right time for everyone else. It was the right time for us. And that was all that mattered to us.” He kisses Harper on the lips, then turns to his parents. “Plus, it was better for taxes and health insurance.”
I laugh along with Sophie at how much more effective that last sentence is in calming everyone down. Some stereotypes exist for a reason.
Aunt Gert sniffles, leaning into Uncle Morris. “Yeah, okay, that makes sense. Good job.”
“You will allow us to throw you a reception.” Aunt Esther speaks firmly. Jonah and Harper nod in approval as if they have a choice. Aunt Esther didn’t phrase it like a request because it was an order. “And now we will move on to Ruthie and Zeppo’s wedding.”
Soph and I laugh again at how quickly their faces fall. They enjoyed the reprieve, but now nothing is standing in the way of Aunt Esther’s full focus being on their nuptials.
I reach out and tap Zeppo’s knee. “God speed.”
“Mame, Zeppo and I were thinking something small and intimate later this year.”
“I’m thinking that you are our only daughter, and we will go all out for your wedding. Bigger and better than anything we’ve ever done before.”
Moshe chokes as he sits up, nearly dislodging his wife and son. “The only thing you’ve done before is my wedding. What the hell, mama? Tate? I’m the Avinu!”
“And an ass,” Uncle David tells his son. He nods at Seril, “Ask your wife. It was her idea.”
I almost feel bad, watching Moshe stare in shock at his wife. “Seril?”
She winces, “I might still be punishing you. Sorry.” She sniffs Shon’s head, then offers him to Moshe as a peace offering. He grumbles but happily takes his son and nestles him against his chest. Then because he can’t help himself, he bucks in his seat and knocks Seril to the ground.
He peers down at her with faux surprise. “Sorry.”
Hanging out with the mishpocheh is better than any soap opera ever on television. And for the first time in my life, I wish I had someone with me to watch it all unfold…I wish I had Dottie.