Page 26 of Baron in Check
Their two-year-old daughter, Elke, was in Arnold’s arms. Their son, Izaac, was standing on Hannah’s feet in an adorable striped suit, his dark hair slicked back.
“We’re here, we’re here!” Lizzie called out, her daughter Miriam in tow, who was only a few months younger than Maia with a head full of blond bottleneck curls—just like Lizzie.
“Where’s Caleb?” Greg asked when Lizzie greeted him with a warm hug, and Miriam climbed into his arms. She had a way of fumbling with his earlobes that was equally annoying and endearing, so he allowed it. Nothing was off-limits for a daughter of Lizzie Klonimus, née Pearler, so Greg thought it wiser not to try.
Lizzie clapped in her hands. “In position, everyone!”
Hannah danced backward to the wall lined with elegant Gobelins, little Izaac still on her feet. Fave set Maia down, bowed to her, and offered his hand for a dance while Rachel and Arnold took their positions near the side table, each picking up a sheet of paper.
Arnold cleared his throat. “It is my pleasure to welcome you all to the annual Purim playchez nous.” Rachel curtsied at the mixed crowd.
“It’s not Purim for another week,” Greg whispered in Rachel’s ear.
“Today’s just the rehearsal.”
“Oh, Caleb is late.” Lizzie curled her lip in a frown as she gazed at the clock on the mantel.
“He’s delivering some pieces to the palace this morning,” Rachel whispered to Greg. Why don’t you step in?” Rachel’s tone sounded hushed but wasn’t a whisper; she was putting him on the spot.
“Please don’t make me!”
“Greg, stand here for a moment,” Lizzie pulled him by the arm. They’d grown up together, and there were no politerequests necessary. “You’re here already. Just play Mordechai until Caleb returns.”
Greg deflated and followed Lizzie’s instructions. He felt a bit silly, but their attire now made sense.
Fave was Xerxes, Rachel probably Queen Vashti, and—he sighed—he’d be Mordechai for the time being.
Rachel handed him her script and shared Arnold’s, her cousin-in-law, yet here at the Pearlers, everyone was family. No matter how many times someone was removed from the table of consanguinity—cousins twice removed and related by marriage were still related—the family was family, and everyone was close. No Pearler, Ehrlich, or Klonimus would betray another kin.Mishpocha, family, was the word in Yiddish.
And yet, Greg wasn’t part of the family. Even as Fave and Arnold’s closest friend, he felt he didn’t quite make it into their ranks.
“How about some entertainment? Teresh, go get Queen Vashti.” Fave exaggerated his enunciation in his role as Xerxes.
Izaac walked out the door and returned right away. “The queen refuses to obey your orders.”
Rachel, the queen in question, gave Fave a sweet smile over her shoulder. Greg knew they’d probably never disappoint each other … although there’d been a time when they almost missed the mark, but that was another story.
“The king must banish her.” Maia, Miriam, and Izaac screamed in unison. “Banish the queen!”
“And the entire palace broke into chaos,” Arnold read aloud, but his voice couldn’t be heard over the kids running wild around the room, colorful scarves in hand, swirling them to music that must be in their heads.
Maia, a big pink ribbon atop her head, came to Greg, tugged the hem of his coat, and stepped onto his shoes. Her head onlyreached his thighs, and he instinctively put a hand on her back to ensure she wouldn’t topple off his shined shoes.
“Dance with me!” Maia cast him a smile, showing her tiny baby teeth.
Greg searched for Fave in the noisy crowd. There he was, the proud father, the golden boy of the Ton. He smiled at Greg, put a hand on his chest, and gave a proud nod. His little girl wanted to dance with his friend, and Fave gave him permission.
He could be their friend, dance with them, and defend their honor with his life, but when it came to marrying, Greg wasn’t Jewish enough for a distinguished family like Fave’s. He learned as much when Caleb had the mistaken suspicion that Greg wanted to court Lizzie. It would be preposterous, almost incestuous, to even think he’d do more than treat Lizzie with the respect of a sister. Yet, it stung because he was a Baron with a gentleman’s education and two and a half decades of friendship and devotion to the Pearlers. But he wasn’t Jewish. His parents had made sure of that. Even his clean bloodline didn’t matter. He could never be worthy of Fave and his family. They were just so good, but he wasn’t good enough. Greg loved them all, even from afar, and he loathed himself for envying his dearest friends.
He looked down at little Maia, held his left hand out, and took Maia’s little hand in his. Her fingers couldn’t rest on his like a lady; her entire hand fit into his.
He bent down, placed his right hand on her shoulder, and bowed. “Thank you for the honor of this dance, Miss Maia.”
The little girl beamed at him, and his heart melted like ice in the sun.
Carefully, he took a small step forward with his left foot, and Maia came along for the ride. He swayed through Pearlers’ green drawing room to the cacophony of humming children. His heart soared with pride, for this was Maia’s first dance with anyone besides her father, Fave. Greg couldn’t have been more honored.Nor could Maia have been in better hands; he knew that for sure. He’d defend her life with his own to ensure her smile. He’d known her for all five years of her life and watched her blossom from a toddler into this little princess dancing on his feet.
His friends’ children were the closest he’d ever come to having any, so Greg didn’t hold back his love.
