Chapter 29

 

A Dozen Roses

 

 

Seth came home from work looking especially chipper. He walked over to Courtney while she nursed Zack on a lounge by the pool. He handed her a dozen red roses intermingled with baby’s breath before kissing her on the lips.

“Here, these are for you,” Seth beamed exuberantly, sitting down on a lounge beside her and lifting Zoe to his chest.

“For me,” Courtney’s voice raised with surprise. Zack unlatched from her breast and she placed him back into the playpen.

“Yes, enjoy them, Courtney. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Seth smiled proudly with his teeth gleaming in the sunlight.

“It’s just an ordinary Friday afternoon, why roses?” Courtney asked in mistrust, aware of his infidelity with Rosita from the other night.

“Because I wanted to show you how much I care about you and appreciate everything you do for the twins. Just the thought of having to take care of them for one day showed me all you do all by yourself. You’re a fantastic mother, Courtney.”

“Thanks, Seth, that’s nice to hear,” Courtney said with pleasure. “I’ll go put these in water.”

“Go ahead and set them in the center of the dining room table, my mother is making Shabbos dinner tonight.”

“Shabbos dinner,” Courtney repeated in surprise. “You mean to say she’s not ordering in Chinese?”

Seth laughed. “Actually she went to see Rabbi Stein today about having a baby naming for the twins, and he made her feel guilty for never lighting the Friday night candles and saying the prayers. He convinced her to do it for the twins, telling her you’re never too young to merit the influence of the Shabbos candles.”

“I’ve never had a Shabbos dinner in my entire life. What do you do?”

“One of the things the men usually do is bring home flowers for their wives.”

“Aha,” Courtney interjected with a smirk. “You’re not trying to turn me into a Hassid, are you?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on growing peyos, though I have the perfect hair, or wearing a fur hat in the summer.” Seth laughingly ran his fingers through his wooly curls that shined beneath the sunlight in black spirals.

“Imagine you with long curls on the side of your head and me in a babushka.” Courtney laughed, running off with her roses while her white skirt blew airily in the breeze.

 

Courtney went into the kitchen finding Edith busy making salad, chicken soup, Gefilte fish, fresh baked challah, Israeli salad, meat loaf, and roasted potatoes.

“Everything smells so good,” Courtney raved with the outside air enlivening her appetite.

“Where did you get the roses?” Edith asked with a happy lilt, going inside the breakfront to fetch a crystal vase.

“Seth brought them home for me,” Courtney answered, pouring water into the vase, and placing the bouquet in the center of the dining room table.

“That just goes to show sometimes you have to put your foot down and disappear once in a while to make your man appreciate what he has,” Edith said with a smile.

“I guess so,” Courtney said with a guilty heart.

Edith took over and artfully arranged the roses and baby’s breath. “It’s a shame you have to go out with Jewel tomorrow since Shabbos is traditionally a day of rest.”

“Maybe so, but as you well know, I’m not religious, Edith.”

“Maybe not, but that’s no reason to deny the twins of a traditional foundation.”

“The twins aren’t even five months old yet, and I’m planning on raising them just as I was raised,” Courtney said with agitation at having Edith butt in with her child rearing again.

“It’s good to instill religion in your children. You certainly don’t want them to be carrying on like heathens and getting married at forty. Do you?”

Edith scowled and shrugged her shoulders disapprovingly. “No offense to your parents, Courtney, because I have to admit I was just as lax, but that’s what happens when parents don’t instill a good religious foundation in their children. If I had been more vigilant, I’m sure I would have been blessed with more grandchildren by now. Rabbi Stein told me there is more than just sending children to Hebrew school.”

“Well I never went to Hebrew school, and my brother never even had a Bar Mitzvah,” Courtney said offhandedly, while putting black olives in a crystal bowl.

“Why didn’t Taylor have a Bar Mitzvah?” Edith asked in displeasure while adding the matzo balls to the chicken soup.

“Because I was raised as a secular Jew, and my parents couldn’t afford to join a temple. We used to have a Christmas tree.” Courtney laughed gleefully, remembering the stockings they used to hang and all the colorfully wrapped gifts waiting for them on Christmas morning.

“Why in the world would a Jewish family have a Christmas tree?” Edith’s face twisted in confusion.

“To put presents under, I suppose. Or maybe because everyone else on our block had one, and it was a lot cheaper than joining the temple.” Courtney laughed as she dried the wine glasses and placed them on the dining room table. She became awed by how they glistened beneath the glowing chandelier.

“Well, tonight you’re going to have your first Shabbos dinner, and I’m going to show you what to do so you can continue the tradition with the twins. When I was first married, I used to make Shabbos dinner every Friday night and be active at Temple Beth El. Going to see Rabbi Stein today has inspired me to return to my roots,” Edith said with a sparkle in her eyes.

 

Edith entered the dining room wearing a long white dress, which gracefully skimmed the floor. She portrayed a festive demeanor with her hair smoothed into a French knot and long diamond earrings. At sunset, Edith placed the Shabbos candles in a silver candelabrum that she had painstakingly polished. She then covered her head with a lace doily cap and moved her hands three times toward her, telling Courtney to repeat after her.

“‘Baruch A-tah Ado-nai E-lo-hei-nu Me-lech Ha-olam A-sher Ki-de-sha-nu Be-mitz-vo-tav Ve-tzi-va-nu Le-had-lik Ner Shel Sha-bbat Ko-desh..’”

“Good Shabbos, Courtney,” Edith said with a holy atmosphere overtaking the house, and the scent of spices permeating the air.

“What does the prayer mean, Edith?” Courtney curiously asked.

“It means, ‘Blessed are you Lord our God, King of the universe, who has hallowed us with his commandments and has commanded us to kindle the lights of the holy Shabbos.’”

Everyone sat down at their usual seats, yet the lighting of the candles had set an inexplicable mood. A peaceful hush overtook the room. Nightfall enveloped the sky in the first tinge of darkness. The cool breeze of the Great South Bay sifted in causing the lace curtains to lift upward like a fan, providing refreshment.

“Aaron, you can say the prayer on the wine and the challah,” Edith respectfully commanded.

Aaron stood dressed in a freshly pressed white shirt, which contrasted strikingly against his olive complexion. Aaron poured himself a glass in the kiddish cup and then passed the wine around and everyone poured themselves a cup.

He raised his silver cup, and recited in a dramatic voice, “‘Ba-ruch A-tah A-do-nai, e-lo-hei-nu me-lech ha-olam bo-rei p-ri ha-ga-fen.’”

Everyone took a few sips. Courtney remembered Seth telling her about Aaron’s theatrical ability, seeing it firsthand. Courtney could not contain her fascination of his aura, becoming hopelessly bedazzled.

Aaron then stood before the circular braid of sweet bread Edith had baked. He proceeded to cut it into pieces, and pass them around. He held his piece reverently in his hand before reciting in a melodic voice equivalent to any of the great rabbis. “‘Ba-ruch A-tah A-do-nai, e-lo-hei-nu me-lech ha-olam ha-mo-tzi le-chem min ha-a-retz.’”

Courtney took a bite of the challah, feeling awed by Aaron’s mastery of Hebrew along with the side of him, connected to tradition.

Courtney turned to Seth and asked. “Do you know how to speak Hebrew as well?”

Edith answered for Seth with a disdainful expression. “Seth had a hard time learning his Bar Mitzvah portion, don’t ask. But Aaron,” Edith proudly glanced over at him, “He was always outstanding in religious school. He received the President’s Award five years in a row, which is the highest honor.”

Courtney could see Seth’s expression tense to be compared with his older superior brother. Courtney could not control herself from responding. “The way I see it, it’s not how much or how efficiently one learns on a technical level that counts. Being Jewish is more than getting good grades or even being a practicing Jew for that matter. My family might have had a Christmas tree, but when it comes to anti-Semitism, we are all considered as Jewish as the most Orthodox.”

“Please, Courtney,” exclaimed Edith. “This is a Shabbos dinner, a holy night. Now is not the time to discuss the transgressions of your family!”