Murder At The Mikvah (25 page)

“I took a leave of absence from school,” Lauren said, “to help Yehuda.”

Judith stood up fast, scraping the bottom of her chair against the floor. “Do you think that's wise for your future?” she asked, changing her tactic to one of concern.

“We can't always put our own interests first,” Lauren said pointedly. “The fact is the kids need someone they can lean on—someone who’s here for them everyday, someone who can provide more stability.”

But how could a non-family member provide stability?
Judith wondered. Wasn’t she—the blood relative—the better candidate?

“Nana! Your phone’s ringing!” a boy’s voice boomed from the living room.

Judith glanced at her watch, happy for the interruption. “Thank you Eli,” she called. Without saying a word to Lauren she hurried from the kitchen to retrieve her purse from the hall closet.

“Hello, Judith Orenstein speaking… Yes, that’s right. He agreed to joint custody… No that's not correct… he keeps the 401K and everything else is a 50/50 split…What? Are you kidding me? That bast…” Her gaze fell upon Eli who was watching her over his book, an alarmed look on his face. For a second she had forgotten where she was, she had entered the all-familiar work zone, the one that had protected her and nourished her for so many years. Looking at her sweet grandson, Judith wondered if she had it in her to put her job on hold. She, a woman who could barely survive a three-day weekend away from the office… Would she willingly place her own interests on the back burner
?

Maybe she wasn't the better candidate.

“Uh, Marla, I apologize, but I can’t talk now. I’m in the middle of something that demands my full attention. Can I call you later?”

Judith shoved her phone back into her purse.

“Nana!” Eli said, “you
can’t
call her back later!”

“Oh? Why is that, Eli?”

He grinned slyly, certain that she must be making a joke. “Because it’ll be Shabbat! You can’t talk on the phone when it’s Shabbat! You’re being silly, Nana!”

Judith smiled and slapped her cheeks. “Oh my! You’re right, Eli! Silly me! Silly, silly Nana!”

 Thirty-two

Yehuda’s face lit up as he scanned the dining room.

“Lauren,” he began, “when you said you would take care of everything, I never imagined this…” He took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

Lauren returned his smile then touched Rachel on the shoulder. “I couldn’t have done it without Rachel's help.”

Rachel flinched.

“You did a beautiful job, sweetheart,” Yehuda said, squatting down to give her a hug.

Judith, who stood unnoticed in the doorway had to agree that the table looked beautiful. It was set with the family's best linens, bone china and stemware. A festive bouquet of Gerber daisies in yellows and reds stood at the center of the table, flanked on either side by tapered blue candles.

Judith's gaze moved past the table to Yehuda. Fortunately, in the past week his appetite had returned and he no longer needed to wear the suspenders she had given him. And today his face seemed to have much more color. Just then, Judith did a double take. She would have sworn she saw him wink at Lauren as she repositioned a wine glass. Surely Lauren couldn't have something to do with him feeling and looking better, could she?

Yitzi ran in and giggled as Yehuda hoisted him up. “I know one little boy who's excited about having guests tonight!”

Rachel smiled up at the two of them and nodded. “Mommy always says it isn’t Shabbat without guests.”

“And it isn’t Shabbat if we’re not joyful—isn’t that right Yitzi?”

“Shabbat is a happy time, Abba!” Yitzi said, wrapping his arms around Yehuda's neck.

Yehuda pulled his son closer and blinked away some wetness. He was ashamed of his behavior these last few weeks. When he wasn’t at Hannah's bedside, he was either walking sullenly around the house as if in mourning, or at the center doing what his mother had always done—burying himself in work. This all would have been fine if five kids weren't looking to him for guidance, counting on him to keep things sane. Thank God Lauren had brought him to his senses. It was agreed; the children had suffered enough; they didn’t need their father falling off the deep end too. Lauren had made him look at the facts—Yitzi's accidents, Eli's night terrors, David's depression—What choice was there? He needed to get a grip and pull himself together.
Fast
. Lauren moving in was a big step in the right direction. A shift in his own attitude was another. Lauren was right. Having guests on Shabbat would be good for everyone; it would
normalize
things. As far as all the other days of the week went, he had to remain strong! It was up to him to keep everyone’s spirits up, even if it meant hiding his own fears.

Standing in the shadows, Judith was starting to feel like a voyeur, and after the earlier conversation she had with Lauren, like an outsider too. Avoiding Lauren's eyes, she willed herself to enter the dining room anyway, and was relieved when Yitzi immediately ran to her, a huge smile plastered on his face.

Was Lauren right? Did she really not know this child?

Yitzi giggled but after a minute, released himself from her grip so he could look up at her face. “I like having Shabbat with you, Nana. Will you always come? Please?”

Judith took a deep breath. “I like having Shabbat with you too, sweetheart,” she said, “and all your brothers and sisters… and of course your Abba…”

Yehuda jumped in. “Sometimes Nana is busy in New York,” he told Yitzi, gently. “But we know she loves us very much and visits whenever she can.”

 Thirty-three

It was after ten when Lauren took Nehama up to her crib. The baby had drifted off in her bouncy seat during the fish course, and had managed to sleep through the entire two-hour dinner, despite all of the loud talking and fork clanging.

In the kitchen, Judith stood in front of the sink fanning herself with a paper plate. The counters were loaded with dirty dishes and serving platters of leftover food. She had warned Lauren that she was preparing too much, but the girl just wouldn’t listen. And now Judith would have to find room for even
more
Tupperware containers in the already stuffed refrigerator.

“Are you all right, Mom?” Yehuda asked.

“I guess after spending all day in the kitchen, I’m a bit overheated,” Judith told him. Ten years earlier, she would have assumed it was a menopausal hot flash, but, never much of a drinker, she knew tonight the culprit was the three glasses of red wine she’d put away during dinner. Her attempt at drowning her sorrows, possibly. Trying to numb the menagerie of emotions that had overtaken her—anger, annoyance, and guilt. How could Yehuda have allowed Lauren to move in? Didn't he see that she was carrying on like a surrogate wife and mother? Complicating matters was the guilt Lauren had somehow evoked in her. According to Lauren, Judith didn’t know her grandchildren, didn’t spend enough time with them, had
never
spent enough time with them.

Will you always come Nana?

How could she explain to a three year old that despite the horrible tragedy that had befallen the family, the answer was still “no”?

Sorry Yitzi, Nana has to work
.

It sounded so selfish, even as a thought form. But honestly, who could blame her? If only they understood that reinventing herself twenty-five years earlier had been her
salvation
, a life raft in rough seas. Thanks to her brains and pure gumption, she was no longer the passive woman her husband had walked out on. That pathetic persona had been tossed aside, like an old pair of socks. But she had no regrets. What she
did
have was a million dollar apartment on the upper east side and a client register that read like a Hollywood party list. It was her work—advocating for others—that made Judith who she was. It was the work that kept her
sane
. God only knew what would happen if she slowed down.

Now she felt drowsy and warm, and definitely resenting Lauren's decision to use china instead of paper plates.

“Where would you like this?” Lewis Danzig asked as he walked in with a platter of chicken. Lewis was tall and distinguished looking with a head of thick white hair. He was neatly dressed in blue slacks and a sweater vest. He had been seated directly across from Judith at dinner, but other than polite introductions, the two were unable to speak to one another. When Judith wasn’t serving and Lewis wasn’t either eating or bouncing one of his grandchildren on his knee, he was engrossed in a quiet conversation with Yehuda.

“Thank you Dr. Danzig, I’ll take that,” Yehuda said, extending his hand.

Lewis turned to Judith. “I want to thank you for a lovely dinner, Judith. Everything was delicious! Especially the chicken. What a flavorful sauce!” His eyes smiled as he spoke, the wrinkles around them conveying a mixture of warmth and sincerity.

Judith did a quick visual scan for Lauren who was apparently still upstairs with the baby. “You’re very welcome. I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Then she lowered her voice. “Old family recipe,” she whispered.

“I was thinking about getting some fresh air if you’d care to join me,” Lewis said.

Judith's heart did a little jump, but she looked around at the mess. “I better not.”

“Oh, I’d be more than happy to take care of all this for you, Mrs. Orenstein; the baby’s sound asleep,” Lauren said, popping in out of nowhere.

Judith noticed Yehuda smiling at her appreciatively, like she just had everything under control, didn’t she? “But I told you I would clean up.”

Lauren waved her away. “Really, it's not a problem. Besides, it'll be quicker for me.”

Quicker only because you rearranged my daughter-in-law's entire kitchen.

Judith gestured toward the crowded countertops. “But if you're taking care of this, then you’ll need my help with the boys,” she said.

Yehuda shook his head. “David and Eli are fine. They're busy playing
Sorry
with Elise’s sons.”

“Where’s Rachel?” Judith asked.

“In her room with Becca,” Lauren said. “I just checked.”

“Yitzi?”

Yehuda scratched his head. “Yitzi’s fast asleep on the couch. He just needs to be carried up to bed.”

“I’ll make sure he has an extra blanket,” Lauren added quickly. It was a thoughtful statement, but nonetheless, irritated Judith.

“Well, I… ”

“Mom! Go! We’re all fine… Lauren’s got everything under control!”

Judith yanked off her rubber gloves and plopped them down next to the sink. “Well then, seeing that my help is no longer needed here, I guess some fresh air
would
be nice.” She pulled the apron over her head and caught the amused expression on Lewis Danzig’s face. She turned on her heel. “Just let me get my coat.”

Judith felt invigorated almost immediately after stepping outside. The dry cool air was just what she needed to counteract the dulling effects of the wine. She and Lewis started along the sidewalk, crunching hard bits of snow under their feet. An occasional flurry fell.

“Last I heard, it was still coming down pretty hard in Boston,” Lewis said, looking up at the sky. “I’ll probably have a foot of snow to shovel when I get home on Sunday.”

“Correction,” Judith said. “The person you
hire
will have a foot of snow to shovel.”

Lewis laughed. “Hire someone? To
shovel
? No, I’ve always done it myself.”

“You're kidding.”

“Not at all. Does that surprise you?”

“Well, don't you have better things to do with your time?”

“Better things?”

“Of course you do!” Judith said, more than a hint of agitation in her voice. “You have a medical degree for heaven’s sake!”

“What does a medical degree have to do with shoveling?”

Why does he keep answering my questions with questions?
“Plenty,” she snapped. “Your time is worth ten times what the cost of
hiring
someone to shovel is!”

“It’s not about the money, Judith; You may find this hard to believe, but I actually enjoy the process.” Lewis was more amused than offended by the rabbi's mother, which is probably why he winked before adding, “In fact, I rake and bag my own leaves too.”

Judith rolled her eyes and arched her back. “Ugh. I’m in pain just thinking about it.”

He smiled at her, again with that amused expression. “Fortunately I don’t have back problems. I lift weights three times a week with a trainer. Keeps the bones strong.”

Admittedly, Lewis’s attractiveness had not been overlooked by Judith. His white hair gave him an air of wisdom and maturity, but he didn’t have the mid-section paunch or sallow skin of most men his age. Suddenly she was self conscious, wondering how she appeared to him. Must be the wine she told herself, shooing away such silliness. Still, she wished she had taken a minute to freshen up before leaving the house.

“Well, if you work out, then you certainly don’t need the exercise,” she said dryly.

“I still don’t understand why you find it strange that I enjoy tending to my property,” Lewis said. “I love being outside, and in my line of work, I don’t get outdoors half as much as I’d like. Besides, it’s a great way to see my neighbors and do some catching up.”

“Why not just throw a party?” she mumbled under her breath.

“Pardon me? I didn’t hear you…”

“Oh, nothing. Forget it.”

Lewis surmised that Judith's agitation was due to recent events. “Are you sure you’re up to this walk Judith?” he asked, stopping in his tracks. “If you prefer, we can…”

“I wouldn’t have come if I wasn’t up to it, Dr. Danzig.”

“
Lewis
. Please call me Lewis,” he corrected her.

She lowered her voice. “I may be old
Lewis
, but I can still manage a walk around the block.”

Who said anything about being old?
Lewis didn’t risk a response. He said nothing and avoided her eyes as they continued along in silence, an adult version of a time out.

Judith finally broke the silence after two minutes. “So… you live in Boston?” she asked in a much softer tone.

He nodded. “Brookline actually. I’ve spent my whole life there.”

“Then I guess you're used to all the religious fanaticism,” Judith said.

“I take it you know about Brookline's large religious community,” Lewis said, laughing. “As a matter of fact, my grandparents were orthodox. Some of my most vivid childhood memories are of sitting around my Bubbe's enormous dining room table. We went every Friday night.” He shook his head, laughing. “Boy, could she pile on those helpings! Between the liverwurst, the schmaltz and the fried kreplach, I don't know how she and my Zeide managed to live as long as they did!”

“And your parents? They're religious too?” Judith asked.

“Well, now that’s an interesting story. Mother kept a kosher home at first, then it became kosher
style
; then we started having meat and milk together… It was so gradual, none of us kids really noticed until one day when the rabbi’s kid came over for lunch and mother served cream of tomato soup and BLT’s!”

Judith's hand flew over her mouth. “She didn’t!”

Lewis nodded and raised his eyebrows. He was intrigued by Judith's momentary change in demeanor. She looked younger—free— as though the weight of the world had been lifted off her.

“You must have been positively mortified!” she said, laughing.

He smiled and scratched his head. “That’s what you would think, but oddly I
wasn’t.
I remember being more interested in how exactly the rabbi’s kid would react to being served
traif
and then watching my mother run around the kitchen making substitutions once she realized her mistake.” He tapped his forehead. “That’s when it occurred to me that I might like studying human behavior as a
profession
.”

A few more blocks and they came to an intersection where Judith suggested they turn right and head toward the park. They reached the end of Briar street;
White Rabbit Park
was nestled behind a hedge of boxwoods. More of a miniature playground than a park,
White Rabbit
had been designed for babies and toddlers. Lewis bent down and picked up what looked like a thick piece of black mulch poking out of the snow. “They’re rubber chips—for safety,” Judith said. “Yitzi plays here,” she added, in case he wondered how she knew. She didn’t mention that in her grandson’s three years of life, she had accompanied him a grand total of five times.

Will you always come Nana?

The chips covered the entire play area: three bucket swings, a set of horses on spring coils, and a yellow bridge with a short winding slide.

Lewis led Judith to a bench at the far end of the park. Carved out of a tree trunk and set low to the ground, it was a perfect height if you were a two-foot toddler. Lewis brushed off a thin layer of snow with his glove before Judith sat down with a thud, misjudging just how low it was. The bench felt cold against the back of her thighs, causing a reflexive spasm along her spine. She shivered and inched forward toward the edge.

“I should have worn my long coat,” she mumbled, bending over to hug her knees.

“Here take mine,” Lewis said immediately. He tapped the excess snow off his glove, then stood up and began removing his camel overcoat.

Judith held up her hand. “No—I’m fine.”

He ignored her. “Judith, I insist. You’ll be more comfortable.”

“I prefer my own, thank you.”

“But you’re shivering!”

“I said I was fine!” She emphasized each word as if reprimanding a child.

Perplexed, Lewis buttoned up his coat and sat down. “Suit yourself.”

“I hope you don’t mind, I have to make a call,” Judith said, whipping out her cell phone. She hit the send button and had the phone up against her ear before he could answer.

“Go right ahead,” Lewis mumbled. He stood up and walked away from her, in the direction of the play equipment.
She probably needs another time out,
he thought.

“…Hello, Marla? It’s me… Now about the 401K… What? You’re kidding me! That sneaky son of a bitch! What the hell’s he doing playing with those accounts? That money’s earmarked for the kids’ private schools!” Judith jumped up and started pacing fervently in front of the bench.