Not Perfect(69)

“Great,” Rabbi Rosen said. “I’m so glad to hear it. And I’ll work with you from here on out. No need to set up appointments with the cantor. Just come to me. We’ll keep it very simple.”

“Thank you, Rabbi,” Tabitha said. It was just dawning on her what this meant. No invitations, no party. It was such good news. But then she looked over at Levi, and he was crying. He didn’t even try to hide it. Tabitha leaned toward him at the same time the rabbi did, so she leaned back, hoping he’d have something better and wiser to say than she did.

“I know this is hard,” the rabbi said to Levi. “I wish I had more answers for you. But please know, I am here for you if you want to talk or if you need anything. Here is my cell number, call me anytime.”

He handed Levi a card, which he took and stuffed into his pocket, sniffling. The tears seemed to be subsiding.

911—I need you. Our son is CRYING—he hasn’t cried in front of me since he was eight.

Tabitha put her hand on Levi’s knee. She didn’t touch him much anymore, she realized. Why did people stop touching each other? She half expected him to brush her away, or to stand up, so her hand would be forced to move. But he just sat there, letting her touch him, and it made her feel so sorry for him, she could barely stand it. Much worse than when his room was neat, so much worse than the time he knocked out his front tooth when he was three, too old to have a pacifier still but did anyway, and the dentist said he couldn’t have it anymore, that was it, cold turkey. He had turned in the dentist chair and cried, serious, sad tears, and for a minute, Tabitha thought she might never be mad at him again. She felt that way now, times twenty.

“Monkey,” she said gently. “I promise, I’m never going to leave you.”

He nodded, sniffed a little, then stood slowly, so her hand was moved but not aggressively; it was a natural falling away. She stood, too. The rabbi stood, then, and reached out to shake Levi’s hand but instead hugged him. Tabitha thought this might make him start to cry again, but it didn’t.

“Thanks, Rabbi,” he said.

“Anytime, Levi,” Rabbi Rosen said. Tabitha wondered if she could ask him to come home with them. His presence was so ridiculously soothing.

“Tabitha, please know I’m here if you need anything,” he said, turning to her. She felt like she didn’t deserve his attention—she wasn’t really Jewish—but she wanted it.

“Thank you,” she said. She wanted to add that she was going to try to sort this out, she would bring Levi’s father home for him, but that was all so silly. Obviously, if she could have, she would have.

When Levi was out the door but Tabitha was still inside, she felt the rabbi’s gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Is Fern doing okay?” he asked. “With all of this?”

Tabitha shook her head and then nodded, one after the other.

“She seems okay,” Tabitha said. “Thanks for asking.”



“Can you drop me at Butch’s?” Levi asked, once they were in the car and the doors were closed. All signs of the tears were gone.

“It’s dinnertime, and Fern is . . .”

“Please?”

“Fine,” she said, going right instead of left, so she could go to Butch’s house.

Ten minutes later, Levi was dropped off and she was alone in the car. She called Rachel.

“Hey, I’ve been thinking about you,” Rachel said in her warm voice.

Tabitha immediately began to cry.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are the kids okay?”

Tabitha couldn’t get a word out. She worried about Rachel’s worrying in the time it was taking her to speak.

“Yes,” she finally spit out. “Pretty much.”

“Where are you?”

Again, it was a long few seconds before she could talk.

“I . . . just . . . dropped . . . Levi . . . off,” she sobbed. “Now . . . I’m . . . going . . . home . . . to . . . Fern.”

“I’m just getting off,” Rachel said. “Can I meet you at your apartment?”

“No, no,” Tabitha said, thinking of the state of the place. There were eleven burned-out light bulbs in the kitchen and only one that still worked. Now, though, now she could start to replace them. She had Nora’s money. She pictured herself reaching into that strange jar and pulling out the bills, and her crying reached a whole new level.

“I’m coming whether you want me to or not,” Rachel said. “I have some stuff to talk about, too. Are you okay to drive?”

“I think so.”

“Have you guys eaten?” Rachel asked, but before Tabitha could answer she added, “I’ll bring dinner.”





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Somehow Tabitha got home, and somehow she found a parking spot. She was walking in toward the apartment when she saw Rachel, and she had to work hard to hold it together until they were in the elevator together.

“I’ll talk first,” Rachel said, shifting the big bag she was carrying from one hand to the other.

Tabitha waited for her to say she was pregnant. That was the obvious news, though it seemed a little soon. Had she even been inseminated yet? Tabitha was having a hard time keeping track of time. They went up higher and higher: five, six. The door opened, and she still hadn’t said anything.