Page 82 of Let Me Love You (Excess All Areas 5)

Ben dunked his bread into the broth on his plate and thought about what Nan was saying. He bit into the bread, through the thick butter, and chewed thoughtfully before shaking his head.

“I’m just helping Moira out, Nan. She’s been good to us all these years. And it’s not Shawn’s fault he’s been passed from pillar to post right in the middle of his exam year. No wonder he’s pissed off.”

Nan nodded knowingly.

“What?” he asked at her non-reply.

“Nothing. Just think it’s a good thing you are doing. That’s all. Now, eat your food before it gets cold again. I popped a couple of scones from the freezer into the oven to warm them up. Eat all that and you can have them for being my favourite grandson today.”

“I thought you didn’t have favourites.” He took a mouthful of steaming hot potato and onion and had to suck in air to cool his mouth down.

“I do, but it changes all the time.”

“Crafty answer, Nan,” he mumbled through a mouth full of hot food. He thought about Nan’s words.That sounds like purpose.

“That’s me. Crafty to a tee.”

14

The following day, Chaya realised she’d spent the whole day on her surgical rotation involved in the fixing of other people’s hearts. And yet, she hadn’t been able to fix her own.

If she hoped to, one day, physically fix actual broken hearts, maybe she could practice on the ones belonging to her mum and dad and her siblings.

She took a deep breath and stood outside her parents’ house, debating whether it was appropriate to use the key she’d had since childhood, or whether circumstances dictate that she knock.

She opted for knocking, lifting the silver handle three times.

If messaging, emails, and calls garnered no response, she hoped standing on their doorstep would.

“Please, God, help me come up with words of wisdom to say,” she muttered.

I’m sorry.

This is killing me.

I don’t want to let you down.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

When the door opened, her mum’s worried face appeared. And all the things she planned to say drifted from her head, reduced to a simple, “I miss you, Mum.”

Her mum let out a breath and hugged her quickly. “I’ve missed you too, Chaya, but it doesn’t change things.”

“Please. We need to talk.”

“Everything that needs to be said has been said. If you marry a person who isn’t Jewish, you break the legacy of our chain and erase us.”

She felt for the first generation after the holocaust, the children of survivors. Having seen the atrocities, their desire to keep the Jewish race and faith alive intensified.

Her father stepped up behind her mum. “Go inside,” he told her.

“Dad, if we could just—”

“You shall not intermarry them; you shall not give your daughter to their son. Deuteronomy. You know this. The Talmud shows us this. The scholars have shown us this. Rashi has shown us this. Their son will lead you astray. Your children won’t be my grandchildren because of divine command. You missedShavuotwith us. It is already happening.”

Anger rose in her. Uncertain what fuelled it. “You ignored me at synagogue. I worked my schedule at work so I could go listen to the Ten Commandments read. I kept the traditions on my own. And Ben helped. He came over. We did a jigsaw puzzle of Ruth in the fields that he bought me. By candlelight, because of a candle he bought me. We ate cheesecake. And I shared with him why Ruth was such an incredible woman and inspiration. He gave me this,” she said as she yanked out the necklace he’d given her. “Where you go, I will go. Ruth’s own words. Where you go, I will go. And you know what, where I go, he will go.”

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