Young Jane Young(10)



“Yes, of course. How’s the second Thursday in May? That’s May eleventh.”

“May eleventh,” I repeated. I made an imaginary mark in my calendar. I’d call Jorge back in a couple of days to tell him that the board was unwilling to approve a political fund-raiser, and that would be the end of that.

The thing that left me disquieted was Embeth’s behavior and what it meant about Aviva’s silence.

I phoned Aviva and I asked her how she was and how it was going and did she get the lotion.

“It’s a little thin,” she said. “The lotion. I think they changed the formulation since the last time you bought it.”

“No,” I said. “Last time, I bought the hand cream and that’s thicker. This time I got the body lotion.”

“We haven’t broken up,” she said. “I know that’s what you really want to know.”

I did want to know that, but I also wanted to know if Embeth had spoken to the congressman. “Aviva, what will you do if his wife finds out?”

“Why would she find out?” Aviva said. “Who’s going to tell her?”

“There are a lot of eyes on the congressman,” I said. “He’s a public person.”

“I’m careful,” Aviva said. “We’re both careful.”

“I want you to have the kind of man where you don’t have to be careful,” I said.

“Mom, he’s not like other men. He’s worth it. He’s —”

“He’s too old for you, Aviva. He’s married. He has children. I didn’t think I raised you to have such terrible judgment.”

“How many times are we going to do this?” Aviva said.

“I don’t understand his interest in you,” I said.

“Nice, Mom. Is it so hard to believe that a man like him could be interested in a girl like me?”

“That’s not what I meant. I mean, he’s a grown man, Aviva. He’s my age. What do you two have in common?”

“This is why I don’t call you anymore.”

“But what if she does find out? Will you end it then? Will he?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Good-bye, Mom.”

“Aviva, I —” I heard her hang up the phone.



Maybe a week later, Rabbi Barney, the head of the school’s board, came into my office without knocking.

“What’s this about us doing a fund-raiser for Congressman Levin? A man named Jorge Rodriguez says he spoke to you.”

Jorge had left word for me three times in the past week, and I had ignored him. This was a mistake on my part. A man in Jorge’s job was used to being blown off and used to doing whatever it took to get someone to pay attention to him. Of course he would have gone over my head.

I laughed to give myself time. “Oh, it’s nothing. You know how pushy those political people can be, always looking for money. I took a courtesy meeting with Embeth Levin – she used to be my neighbor in Forestgreen. I couldn’t get out of it – Aviva’s working for the congressman now, I don’t remember if I told you.”

“That’s not what Jorge Rodriguez said. Jorge said that you pitched them on the idea of a Night of Jewish Leaders, and now it’s on the congressman’s public schedule.”

“No,” I said. “I specifically did not agree to anything. I was having a discussion with them out of courtesy.”

“Politicians.” Rabbi Barney sighed. “Well, the local press has picked up on the event. I don’t see how we can not do it now.”

Why the hell not? “Why not?” I said.

“If we cancel the event, it will look as if we were supporting Levin and now we aren’t supporting Levin. We don’t want to appear to be supporting Levin, but we don’t want to appear to not be supporting Levin either. It’s an extremely awkward position, Rachel. I don’t blame you for what happened, but you must be careful about who you agree to meet with. You’re the principal of BRJA now.”

It was clear that he did blame me. On some level, I was offended. If it had happened as I had described it, then it wasn’t my fault. Of course, it had not happened this way – and so it was my fault – but he didn’t know that.

Rabbi Barney instructed me to plan the event but to try to keep it as low-key as possible. “Let’s all try to keep our jobs, Rachel,” he said.

As soon as Rabbi Barney left, I called Jorge.

“I was starting to get hurt feelings. I thought you were ignoring me on purpose,” he said.



Aviva phoned me that evening. “What are you trying to do to me?” she yelled.

“Did I raise you to be this self-centered?” I said. “Not everything has to do with you. Knowing what I know about the congressman, you think I want this fund-raiser at my school? I have nothing to do with this.”

“Then why did you call the congressman’s office?”

“No, Aviva.” I expected God to strike me dead, I had never lied so much in my life. “I called them months ago, before you even went to work for Levin. Someone at the school had an idea for a Night of Jewish Leaders. I called the Levins because the school asked me to, because I knew them, because your father had operated on his mother, because Levin is the most prominent Jewish leader I know. It is a coincidence, my love, nothing more. Maybe Embeth had the idea to turn it into a fund-raising event? But it did not come from me.”

Gabrielle Zevin's Books