Page 16 of Alarm Fatigue

Not for the first time in my life I am so thankful that a man like Eli was my first love. God help me, I could have continued my mother’s cycle so easily. With that I leave Jacob Gold in the rear view of my ride.

Chapter 13

Arriving at Gabriella’s on Friday afternoon, I am immediately swarmed by my granddaughters as I attempt to bring my bag inside. Ariella, the eldest, takes charge of my bag, and once we are in the house, David hands me my grandson, Yonah, while he helps Hannah set the table. The rest of the children are shuttled off by Gavi to take a shower before dinner.

I sit myself in an armchair and just absorb the essence of my adorable sleeping grandson. He is just two months old and is peacefully sleeping in my arms while I just stare at him. I love his baby scent and his long eyelashes and tiny baby hands and fingers. The black hair on top of his head that is so wispy that it stands straight up in defiance of gravity. Leaning down I whisper in his tiny ear. “I have the best job here, holding you, my sweet angel.” Moments later I realize I have almost dozed off myself when Kim and Lila arrive. Lila promptly drops her handbag by the doorway and steals Yonah away from me while I take my turn to wash up for Shabbat dinner.

As I gather with my daughters to light Shabbat candles I cannot help but feel so incredibly honored to be their mother and to be a part of this family. Another concept my life has illuminated for me is to never take anyone’s presence in my life for granted. As my mother used to say, we are all on borrowed time.

Standing around the table, singing songs of prayer together before we start dinner, I marvel at how there is nothing quite like a Friday night dinner with the entire family. I bless each of my daughters and kiss the tops of their heads, just as Gabriella and David do the same with each of their own children.

As the children lead us to the washing station, I marvel at the contrast in the level of noise in my eldest daughter’s home compared to the quiet of my own place. Three of my five grandchildren are elbowing each other in line behind their eldest sister, while the baby wails in Kim’s arms off to the side. Everyone else seems to be talking all at once. I love this. As much as I love order and structure in my own life, this is safe and comfortable. This warm chaos is the family I always hoped for in my darkest days of the past.

Of course, as a Sephardic family, half of the noise in the room is everyone figuring out who is talking to or about whom. Following our naming conventions has proved tricky as David has no sisters and they have had so many girls and subsequently we have here two Rachels, two Lilas and two Hannahs. In compensation, each of the younger girls tends to be called by their first and middle name. The idea was that it would be less confusing for everyone. Sometimes it actually works.

After we have all washed our hands, silence briefly overtakes the table as they wait for me to make the blessing of hamotzi over the loaves of challah that Hannah baked for us this afternoon. The scent of the warm bread is mouth-watering as I tear it into pieces, tossing a pinch of salt over them. By rights as the one who prayed I greedily pop a hunk into my mouth before I pass the rest around the table.

After the food is distributed around the table, David starts off the conversation. “So, how has everything been going, Rachel?” One look at him and I know this is his polite way of asking about what he sees as the ill-fated but well-intentioned efforts to force me to have a social life. David is my only son-in-law but has been recently elevated to ‘favorite’ child status as the only one on my side about this dating nonsense.

“That only took two seconds after hamotzi; it must be a new record. Did Gavi put you up to it?”

“Hannah did. She promised to sneak me an extra piece of cake.”

I glance over at the younger children who are safely distracted by challah and kibbeh, before I relay a sanitized and heavily abridged version of my adventures over the last few weeks since the disastrous first meeting with Mark Levy.

I describe the first meeting at the coffee shop when he was late and then I realized that Dr. PITA was the Mark that I was meeting. Then in a few words I describe my lovely dinner with Seth.

“He was very nice, and handsome. His wife had died as well but they had no children. I am afraid I did not tell him too much about all of you, because I was not sure if it was a sadness for him. Then I had my third and final date.” At this I glare at each of my three children. “Jacob was intoxicated within thirty minutes of my meeting him. I will leave the rest of that catastrophe up to your imaginations. Suffice to say, I was not harmed but pretty much none of that evening is fit for discussion at this table.”

Lila’s mouth has dropped open, Kim is giggling into the top of Yonah’s head, David looks self-satisfied, and Gavi has the presence of mind to look sheepish. Hannah, however, looks pensive.

“Eema, I notice you are not telling us how it was at work after bumping into Mark Levy again.” Hannah feigns interest in her plate of food when she asks the question. She is far too intuitive for my own good.

“Let’s change the subject.” I state in my best I-am-your-mother voice, the heat rising in my cheeks, “Our discussion here should be about something more appropriate, such as this week’s Torah portion maybe? Do the kids have any learning they want to share?”

Hannah’s eyebrows raise but she, thank God, does not push it. Lila Tova, one of Gavi’s six-year-old twins, begins sweetly relaying what she remembers about the parasha from school this week as I feel my color return to normal. From there we move on to the upcoming trip to Paris the elder Lila and her wife, Kim, are planning. Having elected not to have children, at least for now, they keep a small home, and travel every chance they get.

“We are thinking about adding on few days in Valencia as well,” Kim finishes, before everyone goes back to eating peacefully.

“Well, I have news.” I finally think I have figured out how to derail Hannah from forcing me to discuss with her what I am trying to suppress in myself. “I have a second date planned with Seth Aaronson. This Sunday I am meeting him in Annapolis to go sailing on his boat.”

Everyone starts talking at once. Well, everyone except Hannah who is giving me a shrewd look that I strategically ignore.

“Mama.” Lila is smiling at me because she remembers how much I would talk about being out on the water and my love for it. “Do you remember how to sail?”

“I think I will manage. It could be fun.” And I know it is true when I say it. At the same time, I am also mindful that I am looking forward to the date in a way that is not generating the feelings that a certain doctor ignites in me. As I realize this I also acknowledge that I am more than okay with that. The attraction I have for Mark is something I cannot control or manage well. It feels as though it would be nothing but cataclysmic. Seth is safe, kind and incredibly good looking. This is just what I need, at least I think it is.

We finish the meal with songs and prayers and say good night to Kim and Lila who are driving home rather than staying. Hannah and I head to the guest room and she chats about her latest client and some fabric choices they are being difficult about. I am so happy not to be discussing Mark that I am sure she is suspicious about my level of enthusiasm. If she is she does not say so and I send extra good vibes to her in my head.

After we are settled and tucked in for the night I turn the cover of the Shabbat lamp to dark until I hear Hannah’s breathing slow as she drifts off to sleep. Once she is softly snoring, I gather my romance novel from the night stand and head back to the living room for an extra half-slice of cake and some late-night reading.

There I find Gavi up with baby Yonah, feeding him. I sit with her in the living room and put my book to the side.

“Eema, I am so sorry about Jacob. Amalie is going to be so disappointed.”

“Well, whatever happened with Jacob does not really matter since it seems as though the situation with Seth is moving forward.” I don’t know why it sounds like I’m stating it as a question rather than a fact.

“Was Jacob really so horrible?”

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