Not Perfect(24)

“Bye,” she called as he got in, and the doors closed.

She went back to Fern without even taking her usual perch by the window to see him leave the building and guess which route he’d take. Now Fern was sitting up, her back against the head of the bed, a pillow under her knee. Maybe she was the smartest one of all. Tabitha hadn’t thought to elevate it. She had the television on, and seemed peaceful enough. Maybe Tabitha should have tried harder to get her to school? No, this was okay.

“It feels even better than before,” Fern said sweetly. “But I think a little rest might help.”

“It’s a good day to rest,” Tabitha said, feeling a touch of relief. By tomorrow it would be fine, she was sure. Most things that hurt just needed a little rest.

“You hungry?” she asked.

Fern nodded, mesmerized by the television.

Tabitha went into the kitchen and stood frozen. She wanted to text 911 over and over again to Stuart. 911—our daughter is in pain. 911—we have no food. 911—where the hell are you? She looked through the cabinets and found crackers. She hoped there might be some cheese. There was—manchego—which she sliced thinly, laid on the crackers, and drizzled with the fancy balsamic (Fern’s favorite). There was only about a half inch left in the bottle.

She took the plate in to Fern, who immediately started munching on it. She actually seemed fine.

“Do you want to try to go to school for the afternoon?” If she could get her there before lunch, that would be good. The school provided great lunches, all part of the tuition, so that was already paid for. Tabitha hated to have Fern miss that. Here it would just be more crackers—there wasn’t even much cheese left.

“I don’t know, maybe,” she said, finishing the crackers and using her finger to dab up every last drop of the vinegar. Tabitha had been hoping she would leave a little, but she couldn’t blame her. Tabitha could wait until lunch. What she did need was coffee. She’d started using thin, white socks as filters and just a tiny bit of coffee each day, forming her own version of a Melitta drip coffeemaker. It was weak, but enough to get her through. As the hot water soaked through the grinds and cotton and dripped into a mug, her phone beeped. Stuart? She rushed to look, but it was just a reminder. The reminder about the meeting with the rabbi. Today. And she hadn’t even warned Levi about it. Despite all her Post-it notes, she hadn’t remembered. She had gotten so used to seeing them there, she didn’t even notice them anymore. She shook her head. They couldn’t possibly miss it again.



It turned out Fern did not want to go to school in the afternoon. She wanted to eat cheese and crackers with balsamic vinegar—Tabitha was now sorry that she even introduced the balsamic today—and watch movies. After a warm bath, though, her leg seemed much better. Tabitha suspected it was still sore based on the way Fern walked to the bathroom. When Levi came in at a little after four o’clock, Tabitha was almost afraid to tell him.

“We have the meeting with the rabbi today,” she said, as casually as she could.

“No way,” he said.

“Well, we have to go, we missed last week,” she said. 911—our son is having a bar mitzvah soon and it isn’t going well! “The rabbi is expecting us.”

“Okay,” Levi said.

“Okay?” she asked, surprised by his turnaround.

“Yeah, okay,” he said. “Then you can tell Dad about it, and he’ll have to come home. If we’re working on my bar mitzvah, he has to be here.”

“Right,” Tabitha said. “That makes sense.”



Fern agreed to stay home and lie in Tabitha’s bed. Tabitha and Levi headed to the car, which was parked on Pine Street in a good spot. She tried not to think about finding another spot when they returned from the meeting as she eased the car out into traffic.

When they got to the synagogue, Tabitha felt like she always did: that this was a nice place, but she didn’t really belong. The building was soothing with its art on the walls, carpet on the stairs, and the smell of prayer books in the air. But she worried someone would ask her a question she couldn’t answer—like: “What were the ten plagues?” or “Why did Moses part the Red Sea?” Or ask her to say the Shehecheyanu. They checked in, walked up the two flights to the rabbi’s office, and waited outside. The door was closed, and Tabitha thought it was proper etiquette to wait instead of knocking. But five, then ten minutes went by, and nothing happened. Levi was getting restless. Finally, the door opened.

“Oh, you’re here,” the rabbi said kindly. “I was just going to come looking for you.”

So they should have knocked.

“Please, come in,” he said.

They followed him into his big office, which was at least as soothing as the rest of the building, and sat around a table.

“Should we wait?” Rabbi Rosen asked.

“Wait?” Tabitha asked.

“For Stuart,” he said, pointing toward the one empty seat. For some reason, the image of Toby decorating the chair at the sports bar and throwing confetti around it came to her mind. She took a deep breath.

“He isn’t coming,” she said. “I am so sorry I didn’t let you know sooner. He’s on an extended business trip.”

“Oh, I see,” the rabbi said. Then he looked at Levi. “Do you want to reschedule for another time, when he’s back?”