Tevye 5.
“We’re gonna get you a snack, then we’ll head to the doctor.” Arlo grunts in my arms, and my lips twitch with amusement. He sounds like me sometimes and while at the beginning it would freak me out, now…let’s just say that Ruthie is a good teacher. I’m just a shitty student. But we’re trying and she assures me that’s the most important thing.
Zeppo finds our “lessons” endlessly entertaining, but he’s kept his mouth shut and I’m grateful. I’m pretty sure sweet Ruth threatened to cut him off if he did. I’m already getting enough side-eye from my parents and Tovah, I’m not ready for the rest of the family to harass me as I navigate fatherhood and emotions. Emoting is exhausting.
And so are children. I took Arlo to a park earlier this week. By myself. It was an exercise in patience, but I think Arlo had a good time. I chased after him all over the playground, pushed him in the swing, and held him up as he “hung” from the monkey bars. A few mothers or nannies, I don’t know which, were bold with their interest. Don’t know what it is about single fathers that get them wet and ready, but any other time in my life, I might have taken them up on their explicit offers. Instead, I continued to play with Arlo, listening to him laugh, then took him home without collecting any numbers.
Tovah nearly had a stroke when I told her. She said and I quote, “Crotch goblin or not, easy pussy is easy pussy.” We nearly had a fist fight when she tried to pull the waistband of my joggers from my body to check I still owned a dick. Once we retreated to our respective corners, she told me, “It’s about damn time. If I don’t have to babysit you and Arlo, I can get my dick wet. Which park were you at? I’m in the mood for a little Mommy and me time.”
My parents were more subtle with their surprise. I think they’re afraid to call attention to my increased involvement with my own son. And that’s fair. Their doubt is warranted. I’ve been half-assing it since he landed on our doorstep. I’m not sure how to explain it to them, or even myself, but I want to whole-ass parenting Arlo.
If only never to see the disappointment in my father’s…or Vandy’s eyes.
I skipped group this week. I just couldn’t face her . Not yet. I felt vulnerable, exposed, cornered like a wild animal. Despite the progress Ruthie claims I’m making, Seril is channeling her inner Shakespeare, her eyes demanding a plague upon my house. Every meal, even passing in the hall…the Sarai Ima is displeased with me. Tough shit. She’s married to Moshe; she’ll have to get used to being displeased.
Arlo wraps a skinny arm around my neck; he places his other hand on my cheek and turns my face toward his. Our eyes meet and my feet stop. Middle of the hallway, I’m frozen. We have the same gray-blue eyes. He leans forward and presses his nose to mine with a giggle. Fucking hell.
I hate feelings. I’m willing to learn and dive a little deeper into them, but it doesn’t mean I like them or how the sound of his laughter is like carbonation in my veins.
I force my feet to start moving again, stomping my way through the compound. Passing by Aunt Esther’s office, which is now Seril’s as the current Sarai Ima of the Kosher Nostra, the sounds of conversation slow my movements, a laugh that has a similar effect to Arlo’s diverting us to the closed door.
I knock twice, then open the door before Seril can acknowledge me. She glares at me, but I ignore her, my attention caught by a surprised Vandy. I smirk when her light brown skin, indicative of her mixed heritage, slowly blushes. Our eyes hold for several beats before Seril clears her throat and totally ruins the moment. The moment is over, and Vandy’s attention switches to the squirming toddler in my arms making his presence known. I return Seril’s glare with one of my own. Vandy, however, ignores both of us and stands with a broad grin aimed at my son.
“Is this Arlo?” I grunt in the affirmative. “What a handsome little guy.” She steps closer to us, her fingers crooked in front of her. “Hello, Arlo, I’m Vandy. Are you ticklish?” He gives her a slobbery smile, throwing his head back with a howl when she starts tickling his stomach and under his arms. I’m barely able to keep a hold of him as he squirms to avoid her hands and lean into them at the same time. When she stops, running a hand down his back, he holds his arms out to her, grunting. “Like father, like son,” she murmurs, finally meeting my eyes again. She silently asks permission to hold him, I’m irritatingly powerless to refuse her anything, including holding Arlo. He cuddles right into her, laying his head on her shoulder, twirling a chunk of her long reddish-brown hair.
I think I’m jealous of my son.
I make the mistake of glancing at Seril, a scowl furrowing my brow at the smug smirk she flashes my way.
“I’m sorry. I probably should have asked before taking him—”
I shake my head, “You’re fine.” I shift on my feet, more aware of my height and size than ever standing next to her short slender frame. “Why are you here?” Fuck, I tried to ask that nicely, but I definitely fell short.
“Dammit, Tev.” I raise my arm on instinct, deflecting the stapler Seril throws at me. “Don’t scare her away before she’s signed the contract!”
“What contract?” I look between the two of them, reaching out for Arlo to keep my hands busy.
“Our offer of employment for Vandy Gibbs. Under Bailey’s supervision, Vandy is going to head up our new outreach program, assisting families and caregivers modify their homes, vehicles, and lives to accommodate children with chronic illnesses. Basically, what she does now, but on a grander scale and with monetary compensation.”
I grind my teeth instead of squeezing Arlo. I’m gonna kick Yakov’s ass. Seril is altruistic and philanthropic and all, but she ain’t stupid. She would never offer employment to someone, let alone invite them into our family’s sanctuary without a thorough background check.
My watch beeps reminding me of Arlo’s appointment. One last look at Vandy, I sigh in resignation. “Arlo has a doctor’s appointment. We were on our way to the kitchen for a snack before we head out. I’ll leave you to it.”
Seril claps excitedly and my stomach drops. She’s scheming. A calculated gleam in her eyes, she innocently suggests, “Tev, why don’t you take Vandy with you. If you’re free that is. Sign here, and Tev and Arlo can be your first official clients. It’s perfect!” I’m sure it is, you meddling mensch. “Vandy can consult with Arlo’s doctor, assess his setup here, and help you help Arlo.”
“You’re about as subtle as an infomercial actress.”
Seril’s face lights up as she throws up jazz hands, “But wait! There’s more!” Vandy and I stare at Seril waiting for her. Her shoulders deflate a second later. “There isn’t. More, I mean. Just need a signature.” She pushes a small stack of papers across the desk. Vandy glances at them, then me, then with a sigh, turns back to Seril.
“I know what you are…” Vandy begins. My entire body locks up in anticipation. “And I don’t really care, so long as you are honest. Tell me this isn’t a front for illegal dealings. Tell me I’m allowed to leave as per the contract terms with my life intact. Tell me this isn’t a mistake.”
Seril’s posture loosens, a kind and patient smile blooming across her face. “You might know what we are, but you do not know who we are. But you will, Vandy, in time. And I can guarantee that no matter what happens,” Seril’s eyes dart to me, her smile growing, “you will never regret becoming a part of the Mishpocheh Consortium.”
Vandy releases a heavy sigh, picks up the fancy pen on the desk and signs her name. “You mean the Pussy Portfolio?” I rear back; unsure I heard her right. Seril tosses her head back and laughs.
“I love it! I’m adding it to the list!” She comes around her desk, and when Vandy stretches out a hand to shake, Seril ignores it and draws her into a hug. “Told you I’m a hugger. Welcome, Vandy.” She meets my eyes over Vandy’s shoulder. “We’re so happy to have you with us.”
Meddling mensch.