The Matchmaker's Gift(59)

In one swift motion, she flung off her blanket, sprung up from the bed, and threw back her shoulders. She would wait no longer to accept her vocation; she had already waited long enough. She was twenty-one years old, a woman fully grown. She’d been blessed with a gift the shadchanim could not fathom, and she knew that if she used it, she would succeed. Those men could not see what Sara saw. They could not know what Sara knew. They chased matches like children chasing pennies in the street, but her matches bound one soul perfectly to another. Her matches were made of light and love, and that was why they were so afraid.

She was done pretending to be less than those men. Done burying her talents to appease their egos. Done waiting until she found a husband before she allowed herself to live. She would advertise in the papers. She would hang out a sign. She would be paid a fair fee so that she could provide for her family. Her mind drifted back to her sister’s wedding, when Rabbi Sheinkopf had explained to her what she was. You are a matchmaker, Sara Glikman. A shadchanteh for this strange, new world.

The time had come for her to embrace her calling and to free herself from old-world constraints. It did not matter that she was a young woman, that she was unwed, or that her methods were strange. She would no longer hide from the flashing sparks that danced around the edges of her sight.

From now on, she would pursue the light with her eyes wide open, braced for the sun.





SIXTEEN

ABBY




1994




After what she’d seen at the bakery, Abby was grateful for the walk back to her office. She needed time to clear her head and to convince herself that she wasn’t losing her mind. First Will and Nicole. Now Jessica and Victor. Was the universe playing some sick joke? Or was the continued stress of Abby’s job causing her to see things that weren’t there?

In the afternoon, she spoke with Evelyn Morgan to confirm the eye appointment. “I’ll meet you there tomorrow,” Evelyn said, which Abby found more than a little presumptuous. Still, Abby didn’t have the heart to make her client go to the ophthalmologist alone.

Victor called a short while later. “I understand Diane is away,” he said, “but I have some real estate documents she wanted—valuations for the Madison Avenue building, the New York atelier, and my apartment in Paris. Are you free tomorrow morning to pick those up? Nine o’clock at my apartment?”

Abby had so many questions she wanted to ask, all of them regarding what she’d seen at the bakery. But she forced herself to stick to the matter at hand. “Of course, Mr. étoile. I’ll see you then.”

For the rest of the day, Abby was useless. No matter how much she tried to focus on work, she couldn’t stop thinking about the designer and the ophthalmologist together. As a couple, Nicole and Will made sense. They were both young and ambitious, both business-oriented, driven. Instead of going to clubs with the other models, Nicole preferred staying home to watch Star Trek reruns. “Can you believe she thinks Jean-Luc Picard was better than Captain Kirk?” Will joked. Nicole may have been a fashion model, but behind her beautiful, semi-famous face, she was as much of a nerd as Abby’s soon-to-be ex-boyfriend.

But Victor étoile and Dr. Cooper? Abby was no fashion plate, but she was sure that even she cared more about fashion than Jessica. What would Victor étoile talk about with a woman who was happiest wearing frumpy lab coats and who couldn’t be bothered to know the difference between satin and suede? What would a woman of science like Jessica discuss with a man whose entire existence was focused on something as unscientific as fashion?

Abby left work early and walked home, eager to escape her spiraling thoughts. She could feel the sweat dripping down her back, causing her silk blouse to stick to her skin. When she got home, she changed into shorts and a T-shirt, flopped on the couch, and called her sister.

Hannah had chosen college in California because she’d wanted to get as far as possible from the never-ending tensions between their parents. After school, she had taken a tech job in San Francisco, and, as far as Abby could tell, she was never coming back.

Though both sisters were close with their mother, it was Hannah who spoke more regularly with their father. As she had explained on more than one occasion, “I’m happy to have a relationship with him. I just prefer to do it from three thousand miles away.” Abby wondered whether she would speak to her father more often if she, too, lived across the country. It would be easier to forgive his canceled dinner plans and forgotten coffee dates if there was no opportunity to make them in the first place. Somehow, after all these years, Abby’s father still managed to disappoint her. What was more, she suspected that he had never forgiven her accusation of being stingy with Beverly during the divorce.

Abby dialed Hannah’s work number and waited for it to ring. “Hey, Han, it’s me,” she said.

“Abby! Are you okay? You never call me this early.”

“That’s not true!”

“Yes, it is. You never call until you get home from the office.”

Abby checked her watch. It was five thirty in New York, which meant it was only two thirty for Hannah. “Yeah, well, I am home actually. I left work early today, that’s all.”

“You left work early? Is something wrong? Are you sick?”

“I’m fine.” Abby paused. “You know how Grandma left me those journals?”