“He’s not Jewish, Bubbe.”
“Why not?”
“What do you mean why not?” Rachel cut in. “Because he’s not! And I’ve got news for you. It doesn’t matter! I married a nice Jewish guy.” Oh no! Here we go! “A doctor! Top of the freaking Jewish food chain. And do you know where he is now? Shacking up with a twenty-three-year-old shiksa! That’s where he is now!”
“Well, were you keeping him happy in bed?” Bubbe asked, and I started to panic.
“Ma!” my mother cut in. “How could you ask that? You’re not gonna blame her because her husband cheated on her?!”
“I’ll bet you any money she didn’t give him oral attention,” Bubbe announced.
“Uh! I don’t think we should…” I tried.
“Excuse me! But a lot of women simply do not enjoy performing o**l s*x! I mean guys pee out of that thing!” Rachel shouted.
“See? What did I tell you?” Bubbe looked smug.
“Braden, maybe we should check on dinner,” I said desperately.
“Uh,” he replied. I grabbed his hand and dragged him into the kitchen where Ira was still talking dry cleaning and my dad’s eyes were glazing over.
“I’m so sorry,” I said to Braden and I meant it from the bottom of my heart.
“It’s okay! Don’t worry so much.” I could hear Rachel and Bubbe yelling at one another in the other room. My mom popped her head in.
“So, Ben, sweetheart, does the brisket look done?”
“Judy! Yes, honey, why don’t you help me? I don’t want to impose on Ira here. Ira, why don’t you go in the other room and relax?” Like anybody could relax with the cage match going on in there.
“Okay, if you don’t mind.”
“No! Not at all! Go! Really!” my dad pleaded. Ira grabbed a carrot stick and headed for the other room. Maybe he had learned to block them out.
“Daddy, can Braden and I please stay in here and help you too? Please!”
“Yes, of course sweetheart! You don’t have to go back out there.”
“So, Braden, I hope you like brisket,” my mother said with a smile just as Rachel shouted something about how maybe Bubbe should just go and blow all the guys in her bridge club.
“I do, thanks,” he said, trying not to laugh. My dad turned to face him with a look of exasperated amusement, and in that moment, Braden Pierce and Ben Ginsberg bonded.
“Okay, let’s get this show on the road. Gabby, do you want to light the candles, sweetheart?” Dad asked.
“Okay. Ma, will you please make them be quiet?”
“Of course, honey.” She took a deep breath. “Ben, Gabby, I love you. Braden, darling I think you’re wonderful. Okay! Let’s go!” she said in a voice filled with steely determination. We got into the other room and my mother put two fingers to her lips and whistled shrilly. “Everybody shut up! It’s time to light the candles and welcome the Sabbath!” I sighed.
“Here you go, Braden,” my dad said, handing him a yarmulke. Braden looked at it like he had just been given a gift. There weren’t a lot of six foot three blonde-haired blue-eyed guys who wore Jewish skull caps, but he managed to carry it off pretty well. We went into the dining room and everyone stood by the sideboard as I lit the candles and said the blessing. I glanced up and smiled at Braden who was watching me carefully. He really found this interesting. I also saw my parents watching him. The fact that he found it interesting made them happy. Somebody up there must have been listening to the prayers because my crazy relatives stopped screaming at each other and sat down quietly. It was a Sabbath miracle.
Dinner wasn’t too bad. The food was great and my relatives had the courtesy to call a ceasefire. For most of it anyway. There were a few awkward moments.
“So you two are sleeping together?” Bubbe asked.
“Ma!” my mother cut in.
“It’s okay. We seem to get asked that a lot,” Braden said with a smile.
“Well, it’s no big deal if you are, sweetheart. God knows that Ben schtupped Judy enough before they got married. The two of them were always going at it.”
“Bubbe please!” I begged. “I don’t want to hear about my parents having sex at the Sabbath meal! Or ever! I need therapy now.”
“Mother that is enough!” My mom was getting seriously pissed.
“Hey, at least you’re out of high school not like Rachel’s boyfriends,” Bubbe responded giving Braden an evil smile.
“For the last time! My boyfriends are not in high school, you crazy old bag! One of them was a college student who was student teaching.”
“Well, maybe your cousin could teach you a thing or two about how to find a boyfriend old enough to have finished college. Look at the Viking over there! I’ll bet he gets plenty of oral attention!”
I almost passed out, I swear. And then it dawned on me; while he may have gotten plenty in the past, I hadn’t given him any. As if sensing my thoughts Braden reached over and squeezed my hand reassuringly.
“Okay, okay Rose,” my dad said, starting to sound very pissed off too. “My family’s sex lives are not dinner conversation.” As if wanting to be a stand-up guy too, Ira chimed in and attempted to change the subject. Unfortunately, it was Ira.
“So Gabrielle, maybe if you do good work you can get a job as a real lawyer someday.”
“A public defender is a real lawyer. In fact most of them are better than the private defense lawyers,” Braden corrected, sounding a teeny bit pissed himself. What a lovely family dinner.
“You hear that Ira?” Ruth asked in a chastising tone. “He didn’t mean any offense Gabby! We know that getting criminals off is very important!”
Bubbe huffed. Apparently, she didn’t agree.
“At any rate,” Ira tried again, “you’re looking great Gabby! You were getting kind of chunky there for a while.”
“So Braden, do you have any brothers or sisters?” Rachel cut in, trying to help out.
“I have a sister who’s twenty-five and a brother who’s twenty-three.”
“Uh oh,” Bubbe said under her breath but loud enough for everyone to hear.
“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Rachel shot back.
“Okay enough!” my mother shouted.
We ate in silence for a few minutes before Bubbe made one last attempt to be annoying by asking Braden if he would be learning anything about Jewish culture in the foreseeable future. Before I or anyone else, could rush in to defend the fact that he had had the audacity to be born a gentile, he himself answered that he had been thinking about doing that for quite some time, as one of his closest friends was also Jewish. My mother looked like she wanted to crawl across the table and embrace him and my dad looked like he wanted to fund a scholarship at Yeshiva University in his name.