“The court accepts the plea and Mr. Whitley is hereby sentenced to a year’s probation, sex offender classes, a one thousand dollar fine and court costs.” The judge banged his gavel. “Court adjourned.” He got up and left without a backward glance. My client smiled a creepy smile at me and reached out to shake my hand. He had to be kidding. I gave him a friendly pat on the arm and wished him luck. Then I went over to my table to pack up my things. That was the last case for the day.

“Hey baby…” Braden smiled.

“Don’t say it!” I warned. He laughed and handed me the order. “Let’s leave early,” I suggested. “I just want to get out of here and go scrub myself off.”

“Sounds good to me. Want to bring your stuff over to my place?” he invited.

“Sure. By the way, we’re sharing a room at my parent’s place too, and I have to admit that I have the same Freudian issues about them hearing us, so I’m really going to try to be quiet tonight.”

“That’s okay. I’m kind of in a quieter mood anyway.” He leaned down and kissed me gently and I smiled up at him. Suddenly, I had the urge to tell him nice things about how I felt.

“I’m glad you’re coming home with me and I really do want you to meet my parents. They’re pretty cool even if the rest of my family isn’t.”

Braden pulled me into a hug and we stood like that for a couple of minutes until I heard an “ahem” come from the direction of the bench. We both pulled back quickly and nervously looked up. Judge Channing had obviously left his glasses behind in his quest to be out of there. I was surprised to see that there seemed to be a kinder than usual, almost amused look in his eyes.

“Err, if I didn’t say it before. Have a nice weekend you two.”

“Thanks Your Honor,” I said with a smile.

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“Yes, thank you Your Honor and you too,” Braden added.

“And try not to bring too many crazy cases into my courtroom next week,” he added, but he couldn’t quite match his usual level of gruffness. As he turned I saw something that may actually have been a smile.

* * *

At six that evening our train pulled into Penn Station and we got a cab to my parent’s place on the Upper East Side. Being back in New York always filled me with energy. I loved the noise, the smells, the lights, and the people. New York just always made me feel so alive. We pulled up outside the three-story Brownstone townhouse in the east seventies and my parents were waiting out on the stoop with their arms around each other. Ben and Judy Ginsberg were such a nice couple. Braden and I got out of the cab and grabbed our bags. My father came over to help us and we schlepped our stuff onto the sidewalk as my mom paid the cabbie. Mom and dad pulled me into a ginormous hug and buried me with love. Then they stepped back and looked over at Braden with big bright smiles.

“Braden, this is my mom, Judy, and this is my dad Ben. Mom, Dad, this is Braden.”

“Hello,” my parents said at the same time.

I could see that they weren’t completely sure what to do with the six foot three beautiful blonde gentile that their daughter had brought home, but that whatever it was, they wanted to do it right.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Braden said, sounding very charming but also a tiny bit nervous.

My dad went over and shook Braden’s hand warmly.

“The pleasure’s all ours! Gabby’s never brought anyone home to meet us before. You must be special to her.” My dad was such a nice guy, which explained why he was willing to marry into my mom’s wacky family.

My mom came over and took both of Braden’s hands in hers. “Wow, you’re very handsome, and a lawyer! That’s nice! Please come in; let’s get you off the street.” We went up the steps and into the front parlor. “Have a seat; make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something? Wine, beer, juice? We have good juice! Fresh squeezed.” I had a feeling she would have grown the oranges herself for him if she could have. I wandered in behind everyone else and found a seat on my own.

“Oh, I’m fine, thanks,” Braden answered politely. Apparently nobody cared if I wanted juice.

“So, did you guys make reservations for us somewhere?” I asked.

“We decided that we should do Shabbos dinner here and we invited the family,” my dad said.

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Gabby, sweetie,” my mom said consolingly. “It’s best to get it over with quickly, trust me.”

“Honey, I met them on my first date with your mother.” He looked at Braden. “I married her anyway.” I saw Braden try not to laugh. “It’s okay! You can laugh. We laugh a lot here. It keeps us sane and being sane is what separates us from the rest of Judy’s family.”

“Who’s coming here? I demand that you tell me!”

“Uncle Ira, Aunt Ruthie and Rachel,” my mom answered.

“Okay fine.”

“And Bubbe of course.”

“Oh great!” I threw my hands up in the air, got up and started pacing.

“You told Braden about Bubbe, right, Gab?” my dad asked, smiling nervously.

“I told him that she’s blunt.”

“Blunt?” My mother seemed to consider that. “That was very tactful, honey.” She turned to Braden. “Braden, darling, my mother’s got a dirty mind and a mouth like a sailor. She’s also got no tact whatsoever. Just ignore her.” She gave him a sweet smile.

“Seriously, just ignore Rose,” my dad seconded. “The night that I met her, she shook my hand and asked me how many women I had schtupped. I’ll be happy to translate any Yiddish that you don’t understand, by the way.” He hesitated. “You can probably figure that one out though.”

“Uh yeah,” Braden said with a laugh. For some reason he looked delighted. I think he was having fun!

“Well. Let’s get your stuff up to your room. You’re staying together right?” Dad asked.

“That’s okay?” Braden asked.

“Oh sure! We don’t care!”

“Thanks Dad,” I said dryly.

“Well, I mean we care but we figure Gabby can make her own choices, and we’d rather see her sleeping with you than a bunch of cats.” He turned and headed up the stairs, with us following in his wake. We went down the hall to my room. It hadn’t changed much over the years. The queen-sized bed covered with soft pillows, the overflowing bookshelves and comfy reading chair, the framed black and white photos of Dorothy Parker and Woody Allen hanging on the wall. It was all still there.




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