Tevye 29.
My knee bounces and I can’t stop it. I’m not normally a nervous person, but life with Vandy…well, let’s just say I’m not the man I used to be. I’m better. I’m whole.
“Would anyone else like to share this evening?” she asks the support group. We’ve been here for about a half hour, and she’s given me concerned glances every thirty seconds. It’s warranted. I just gotta do it—
“ME!” I raise my hand and shout, startling several other members. “Sorry.” I clear my throat and try again. “Sorry. Just eager to share, if no one else minds.” Everyone encourages me to continue. “As many of you know, I came to my first group session months ago, determined to prove to my meddling mother and aunts that I didn’t need a support group. I was fine. My son was fine. Everything was fucking fine.” Many join me in a laugh. “That was a lie, obviously. Jodie, I owe you a debt I can never repay. You gave me a verbal kick in the ass, and I needed it. To be a better father. A better man. I was a dead man walking, tightening the noose around my neck more and more with every one of Arlo’s doctor’s appointments, outbursts, hospitalizations…I couldn’t breathe. But I had grown so accustomed to the limited oxygen I hadn’t realized how close to death I was. Until Vandy.” I stand from my seat to kneel in front of hers. She gasps as I take her trembling hand in mine. Her fingers so cold, her right hand over her mouth as tears fill her eyes. “You are my oxygen. Our oxygen. The Frenkel men are devoted to you. Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow.” I whistle loudly, scaring her. “Sorry.” The doors open and my entire mishpocheh floods the room excitedly. Arlo toddles over to us instantly, seeking Vandy and I out. I put my arm around his waist and look back up at my woman. “Will you marry us?”
“Mama.” Arlo claps his hands together, then detaches from me and leaps into Vandy’s arms. She holds him so tight, tears falling down her face. That little player. We didn’t practice that, there was no preparation, he’s a toddler for God’s sake.
“Well, you gotta say yes now,” Jodie teases Vandy from across the circle.
“I love you,” she whispers over Arlo’s head. She extends her left hand, fingers straight. I slide my great-grandmother’s ring onto her finger, bringing it to my lips to kiss.
“I love you more.”
“Is this the normal dynamic for the support group?” A newcomer whispers loudly a few seats away.
Jodie snickers, leaning forward in her seat to answer them, “Nah, proposals aren’t common. But growth, peace, fellowship? That’s always the goal.”
Our families surround us with congratulations, very firm back slaps, and a death grip on my balls from her mother warning me not to fuck it up. Tovah stands to the side, giving everyone else a chance. After it’s died down a bit, she steps over to me, facing me head on. We stare at one another for several long seconds before we smirk at the same time.
“Impending matrimony looks good on you, brother.”
“Domestic bliss looks good on you.” We move in unison, our arms banding around the other in a tight hug. For all the shit we give each other, Tovah is my other half in so many ways. When you’ve shared a womb, a strong bond is formed, sure, but our relationship goes so much deeper than that. Until Vandy, I didn’t think there was anyone on the planet that understood me as well as Tov. Our parents do the best they can, but Tov and I are just wired differently. I will always stand between Arlo, Vandy and the big bad world. But I do not fear the future, I do not fear death, because I know that Tovah will take care of my family, competently and completely.
We clear our throat as the tender moment stretches awkwardly. Taking a giant step backward, we put space between us. I glance at my side, noticing our parents and Vandy watching us with sappy grins.
Tovah rolls her eyes with a grunt. “My dick is still bigger than yours.” My head tips back and I laugh hard. I wipe away the gathered moisture from my eyes with a shit-eating smirk.
“I know.”
“Well, good,” she begins. “As long as you know. Good day, sir.” She speed-walks across the meeting room and right into her husband’s open arms. He and I exchange a chin nod. Masud is a good man. I’m still pissed Yakov didn’t tell me, but I also know with absolute certainty that if Masud was a schmuck, Yak wouldn’t have let him anywhere near my sister, let alone marry her. I don’t know what’s in store for them, but I pray they enjoy a long and happy life together, just like me and Vandy.
I hold out my hand for her and she happily skips over to me to take it. I love how my hand dwarfs hers. How my body hides her when I bring her into my chest for me to hold. How my heart beats fast and furious whenever she’s nearby.
I’d never tell her, but Tovah’s assessment isn’t entirely correct. It isn’t impending matrimony that looks good on me. I always thought loving someone meant losing a part of yourself, changing who you are to please them. Vandy loves me exactly as I am. And there isn’t a damn thing I would change about my woman. There is a certain freedom that comes from true, unconditional love. It is that devotion that changes you. Urges you to grow into who you are meant to be.
“Thank you.” I whisper into the top of her head. She hums, snuggling closer somehow.
“You don’t have to thank me.” She responds, knowing exactly what I’m thankful for without having to tell her. She gets me. “Loving you is like the autonomic nervous system. No conscious thought, it just happens because it’s supposed to. Loving you takes no effort, Tev, it just happens because it’s supposed to.”
I growl playfully, digging my fingertips into her sides. “I love it when you talk nurse to me.”
She rears back, surprising me. Her eyes alight with something dirty. I’m intrigued. She presses the back of her hand to my forehead. “Oh, my. I think you might have a fever. We should stop at the store on the way home…I’m gonna need an English cucumber to check it properly.”
I’m not even going to question how my sister heard her from 20 feet away. “Better get the American cucumber for an accurate reading!”