Not Perfect(25)

“Sure,” Levi said.

Once again, Tabitha felt like she was in quicksand. 911—I can’t lie like this anymore!

“It might be a while,” she said quickly. “The miners’ unions are having a really hard time.”

“Okay then,” Rabbi Rosen said, threading his hands together and placing them gently in his lap. “Let’s get started, and you guys can fill Stuart in when you talk to him.”

Levi shot Tabitha a look, which she caught out of the corner of her eye. She just kept looking at the rabbi, nodding and smiling. He smiled and nodded back. Surely he’d run a meeting with just one parent before. Surely he’d witnessed the fallout from a broken family.

“I want to accomplish three things during this meeting,” the rabbi said. He put three fingers into the air. “First, your project, that should be set and you should get going with that right away. Second, and even more important, your D’var Torah, or your speech, talking about your Torah portion, what it means to you, and how your service project fits into it all. That is also the time to thank everyone who has helped you along the way. And finally, three, I want to make sure you’re comfortable with your Torah portion itself.” As the rabbi listed each item, he pointed to a different finger.

Tabitha sat tensely on the edge of her seat. All those tasks seemed impossible to her. She tried to think of something to say, something that would sound knowledgeable and helpful. When she got home she’d learn the Shehecheyanu.

“I know what I want to do for my service project,” Levi said, and Tabitha was hugely relieved that someone else was talking. “I want to volunteer at The Family Meal.”

“Ah, that’s a great organization,” the rabbi said. Tabitha sat back and let their words swim around her. They worked it all out, and it seemed like she almost didn’t have to be there. If Stuart were there, how involved would he be? Would he be trading Yiddish words and bits of knowledge with the rabbi? Was this better, letting Levi take the lead? Maybe it wasn’t awful. They came up with a plan: how many hours Levi should spend with The Family Meal, what his basic speech would be, and when he should meet with the rabbi again with a complete draft, and they established that, yes, Levi was comfortable with his Torah portion. Tabitha hadn’t even heard him practice it, though she wouldn’t know what was right and what wasn’t anyway.

“You’re in great shape, Levi,” the rabbi said kindly, reaching across the table to shake Levi’s hand. “Your next meeting should be with the cantor. Just call to set that up. Will you just give me a minute with your mom?”

“Sure,” Levi said. He jumped up and walked toward the door. Tabitha saw him pull his phone out of his pocket just before the door closed behind him.

“So,” the rabbi said, leaning in toward Tabitha. “How is this process working for you?” He stopped short of saying that she was awfully quiet, but she could hear it there, hovering over them.

“It’s working,” she hesitated. “Well.”

“Levi seems to be in great shape,” Rabbi Rosen said. “He’s right on track. And The Family Meal is a superb place to give his time. I just want to make sure you don’t have any questions.”

Twenty things ran through her mind. Where was Stuart? How were they going to do this? What was the terrible thing he thought she did? Was there any way to ever get away from it, make amends?

“Not really,” she said, not quite meeting the rabbi’s eyes. He nodded kindly, patted Tabitha’s arm.

“I’m always here if you need me,” he said.

When Tabitha met Levi in the hall, he was excited.

“We’re going to The Family Meal on Sunday,” he said. “I just called. The lady who started it answered. Her name is Nancy. She was so nice. She said they have a new group of families coming in on Sunday, so it’s perfect. We have to be there at three. We’re going to serve them dinner and help clean up. We have to wear white shirts and black pants. Next time we’re going to help cook. We all have to go. You, me, and Fern, and Dad if he’s back.”

“Great,” Tabitha said, meaning it. With all of her stealing, she’d be happy to do something nice for someone.





CHAPTER SEVEN

For the first time since her mother had died, Tabitha wished she could talk to her, and it surprised her. She once saw an article on Facebook about the relationships daughters have with their mothers through the years. She had seen it when her mother was the sickest, the least like her old self. The article listed different ages—age five: can’t get enough of your mother; age fifteen: can’t stand your mother. It went on to talk about when daughters had kids of their own they would finally understand their mothers and appreciate everything they’d done. Then age sixty—when the mothers were presumably dead and gone—the daughters would do anything to talk to their mothers. At the time Tabitha thought, No. She was ready to let go. She was so spent. Her mother was draining so much out of her, and all Tabitha wanted to do was be with Fern and Levi, and in theory Stuart, though now she wondered how much of a factor he really was. When she had read the Facebook post, she thought the article had missed a phase of life, when, around age forty or forty-five, your mother will be sick. You will be stuck in an impossible middle situation: caring for your kids, caring for your mom, and the one person who used to be there for you will be an endless fountain of needs herself. Needs that you know you are duty bound to take care of. Needs that you wished you wanted to take care of, only you are just one person, and one person can only do so much. This phase of the relationship would be defined as “the daughters will have a strong desire to be rid of their mothers.” But it wasn’t in the article. Was Tabitha alone in this? She couldn’t be.