CHAPTER 12

PENIS SNIPPINGS

MIRYAM

“Why are you hitting everyone lately?” Sheba pants into her Bluetooth as she rides her stationary bike. I can hear the whirring of the pedals. She’d sooner miss her own wedding than miss an evening on the bike. She calls me most nights while she rides and makes me feel lazy, albeit unintentionally.

I tuck a blanket around my feet on the couch. “Not everybody. Just one person. Twice.”

Why do I feel defensive? He deserved it. He grabbed my boobs without asking. Then wanted to know if I was thinking about my ex while I was making out with him. I should’ve punched him harder. That kiss was intense, though. I wasn’t in my right mind. I felt that kiss down to the soles of my feet. On the one hand, he’s a professional. He should be a good kisser. On the other, I don’t think prostitutes kiss people on the mouth. Maybe that’s just in movies. I should watch Pretty Woman again.

“Do you think maybe you overreacted because you had to deal with that cunt yesterday?”

I scrunch up my nose. “Ew. That word is vulgar. Stop using it.”

“That word fits. And you have every right to be pissed. You should’ve taken it out on her, though, and not Ben.”

“I can’t punch someone at work.” Is she crazy? I’d lose my job and get arrested.

“I hate to break it to you, Miss Attorney, but you can’t punch people anywhere. But I would defend your right to punch that c—whatever her name is.”

I lie back on the throw pillows. “I don’t know it either. I refuse to learn it.” The whole office had to attend a meeting about changes to our retirement plan. That bitch cornered me and told me to stop looking at her man. She said my presence put a damper on his happiness. She’s like twelve. David could probably date her mom and it would be more normal. I wanted to punch her stupid face with her stupid wide-set eyes so bad. I’ve never seen anything more punch-able.

“Okay, maybe I was a little worked up and maybe I took it out on Ben. A little. But he was still an ass.” The tiniest admission of wrong makes my soul burn like a vampire in the sun.

“Maybe?”

I bang my head on the pillows. “Fine. I was wrong. At least I never have to see him again.”

***

“Guess who had their baby.”

I stop reading Of Mice and Men out loud to look at Bubbie. “I didn’t know anyone was pregnant.”

She’s been in the hospital for almost a week and she still knows more about what’s going on in the outside world than I do.

“Your cousin, Liora.” She says it in that hopeful voice that I have some clue who this person is. I do not.

I shake my head, even though she can’t see it.

“You know Liora. She’s the one who leans to the left a little because of the vertigo. She’s your third cousin.” She uses the controls on her bed to flip through the TV channels so fast you can only hear half a syllable on each station.

“Oh, that Liora!” I sort of remember her. I can’t keep up with all the ailments this family thinks it has.

She settles on one station for five seconds. “She’s always looked up to you, you know.”

I have no clue how someone could look up to me when I couldn’t identify them in a police lineup. Bubbie always thinks random people idolize me. She inflates my ego and Sheba pops it like a balloon. They’re a team.

“She called me today because she doesn’t have your number. She wants you and David to carry her son to his bris.”

I drop the Steinbeck novel on the floor. This woman whom I don’t know wants to give me one of the biggest honors in her son’s life? And she wants me to bring my ex that she doesn’t know is my ex?

Fuck.

She starts flipping channels again. “I told her you would be honored, of course.”

Other than my bubbie and my aunts, I never see the rest of my family. How in the actual hell is there another Jewish event in this family? Jews haven’t spent this much time together since The Exodus. My wedding was going to be the first time in years that I would see most of them.

I have to get out of this. “I’m not sure if I’ll be in town. And David is so busy at work. If you have her number, I’ll call and give our regrets. We so would’ve loved to have made it.” I’m glad she can’t see me picking at the hem of my shorts. It’s a dead giveaway for my nervousness.

She stops flipping channels. She’s been through the couple dozen channels five times now. “You’ll do no such thing! Liora named the baby after David. His middle name anyway. The only thing she’s talked about for months is your wedding and getting to meet your David. She invited Sheba, too, because you know how she loves her.”

No, I don’t know. I’m not one hundred percent certain I even know the cousin she’s talking about. This is a disaster on multiple fronts. I can either confess to my grandmother while she lies in this hospital bed, or call Ben. Not much of a choice.

***

The phone rings so long, I expect voicemail to pick up.

“You hit me. Again.”

At least he answered. I wasn’t sure if he would.

“But not hard.” I cringe because that’s the worst thing I could’ve said.

The line goes dead.

Fuck.

I press the number again. It rings just as long this time. He picks up, but he doesn’t say a word. I take a deep breath. I need to get over myself. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have hit you.”

“So, you called to apologize?” His voice is flat and I can’t tell his tone.

He’s going to make me work for this. “I did. I was upset about something else and I took it out on you. I am really sorry.”

“I accept your apology. It would mean more if you showed up at my door in nothing but a trench coat, but I’ll take what I can get.”

I have conflicting reactions to that statement, but I can’t think about that now. I have a favor to ask him. “I sort of have a business proposal. I need you again.”

He’s silent for a couple of seconds. “You need me or you need David?”

He’s made it clear how much he hates doing this. I am the queen of assholes to ask him to join in my web of lies again. But I can’t break Bubbie’s heart. I just can’t. “I need you to be David.”

“Why haven’t you told your grandmother yet? Are you going to fake a wedding, too? I’m not helping you with that.”

Queen. Of. Assholes. “She got sick. She was in the hospital with pneumonia for a week. There’s no way I could tell her. I might as well wheel her down to the morgue myself.” I’ve never been so scared of losing her.

“I’m so sorry. Is she okay? When did she get sick?” He sounds genuinely concerned. I think he really likes Bubbie.

“She’s fine now. Still a little weak. It happened a little over a week ago.” I’ve stayed at her house every night since. She keeps telling me to go home, but I don’t think I can ever leave her again.

“I haven’t seen you in a month,” Ben says. “What have you been doing all this time? Why couldn’t you tell her before then?”

I only have one answer for that. “Because I’m a chicken.”

“Admitting it is the first step.”

“Will you help me?”

He sighs. “I don’t know why I keep doing this, but I’ll help you.”

I close my eyes and exhale. “Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.”

“What’s the dress code for this thing?”

“The men will be wearing suits.” Now’s as good of a time as any to stop being a chicken and start telling people things they don’t want to hear. “Oh, and you have to carry a baby to get the tip of his penis cut off.”

“What?”

***

We pull up in front of the address Bubbie’s given me. It’s a one-story bungalow-style house on a quiet street. I’ve searched through some old photos to figure out which one is Liora, to no avail. At this point, I’m looking for the lady holding the baby. Ben’s asked a few thousand questions about his role in this day. I think he feels like he’s delivering an infant to his executioner.

“Do I have to hold him down while they knife his penis? I can’t do that.” Ben straightens his shirt cuffs under his jacket.

He cleans up well. Almost too well. “No, someone else will do that. We just have to carry him up there on a pillow.”

“I still feel like an accomplice.” We’re both standing on the porch and not going in.

I rub his arm. “We’ll make this quick. In and out.”

He puts his arm around me, trapping my hand between us. He leans across me to push the doorbell. His nose grazes my cheek. “I don’t do a quick in and out, Miryam.”

Holy…

Sheba answers the door before I can say anything. She shimmies her shoulders. “Now the party can start!”

She’s wearing an ankle-length lilac gown with a V-neck and matching sash with rhinestone detail on the front. It’s a dress I recognize.

I step toward her and whisper, “Is that your maid of honor dress? The one I picked out for my wedding? Is that what you’re wearing today?”

She shrugs and takes a sip of her water. “What? It’s not returnable. I wore it to the grocery store last week, too. I’m getting my money’s worth out of this thing.”

I shake my head and huff. “You are the actual worst.”

She hugs Ben, who follows in behind me. “Good to see you, tiger. I hear she slugged you again.”

He nods and rubs the spot on his cheek as if it’s still sore. “Why is she like that? Has anyone talked to her about anger management classes to offset the boxing classes she’s clearly taking?”

Sheba laughs. “Welcome to what I’ve been dealing with for years. She’s a total head case. Mental healthcare in this country is a travesty. They’ve closed all the asylums and I can’t get anyone to take her.”

I force myself between them and hook my arm through Ben’s. “I think that’s enough talk about me. You two have had your fun.”

I pull Ben toward the living room where all the guests are gathered.

He turns his head back to Sheba, laughing. “I would like to talk more about this. We’ll catch up later.”

I haven’t made it one foot into the room before an enormously tall woman hugs me. It’s like being hugged by a bear. Her boobs are smothering me.

“Miryam! Thank you for coming! We can’t go this long without seeing each other again!”

I’m guessing this is Liora and her crushing boobs. I mumble something, but the sound is lost in her cleavage.

“David!”

I feel Ben’s body smashed next to mine. He groans like the wind is knocked out of him.

“I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long! You are the luckiest man on the whole planet.”

She relaxes her grip and I step back to get my breath.

“Baby David is in the other room. We’ll get started in about ten minutes. Thank you so much for honoring us by your help with this bris. I can’t wait to do the same for your sons.” Someone calls her from the other room and she excuses herself.

Ben grabs my hand. “That’s your cousin?”

I rub my shoulder that’s now sore. “Looks like.”

“I would hate to see her right hook.”

I take his hand and pull him with me to the next room. I don’t know how he takes all of this in stride. He’s put up with a lot and he keeps coming back for more.

“Let’s find Bubbie. She volunteered us for this, so we need to get credit for being here.”

Aunt Abagail is holding the baby in the dining room and Bubbie is sitting next to her. Those two have never met a baby they didn’t like. I’m checking both of their purses before we leave because I don’t trust them to not steal the little guy.

Aunt Abagail nudges Bubbie without taking her eyes off the baby. “Miryam and David are here.”

Bubbie smiles. “Miryam, did you see this gorgeous baby? He’s the cutest baby to ever be born.”

I ignore the obvious slight to her daughters and grandchildren. “How do you know he’s the cutest? What rubric are you using?”

She tsks at me. “You never listened to a thing I said to you growing up, did you? If you’re using your eyes to see people, you’re doing it all wrong. I don’t need to see a person to know what’s inside them. Sometimes what’s on the outside can throw you off.”

I hate when she slips things into light conversations that sound like a learning experience. I never know what she’s trying to say. She’s the smartest person I’ve ever known. I don’t know how she expects the rest of us to keep up.

A bell rings and I look behind me to see Liora ringing it. Who has a bell in their house? Where do you even buy a bell? Someone puts a pillow in my hands and Aunt Abagail puts baby David in fake David’s hands.

“What now?” Ben whispers.

The crowd parts like the Red Sea and the man I assume is the mohel stands at the front with an older couple. I recognize the couple from other family events, so I assume they’re half the grandparents.

I hold the pillow out in front of me. “Put the baby on here and walk up front with me. We take him to the mohel.”

“What mole? Who’s a mole?” Ben whispers.

I keep forgetting everyone didn’t grow up with this as their normal. “He’s the guy with the knife,” I whisper.

He glares at me out of the corner of his eyes. “I hate this.”

He moves the baby so slowly and carefully, you almost can’t perceive movement with the naked eye. I hug the pillow closer to my body so he doesn’t flop off like a fish. Ben places his hand on my lower back and we walk up front. Sheba wags her eyebrows when we walk by her. She stands out like a sore thumb in that gown. I’m going to kick her ass.

I hand the baby to the people I assume are the other grandparents standing in front of the mohel.

Ben bows to them and whispers, “Mazel tov.”

Well, at least he got it half right.

He puts his arm around me again and guides me to the back of the living room.

I whisper into his ear. “You did some research, I see.”

He pulls me tighter to whisper in mine. “I did. I memorized three prayers in Hebrew, too, just in case anyone asks me to speak. I don’t know what they mean, but I memorized them.”

I cover my mouth so my laughter doesn’t disrupt the ceremony. The image of him staying up at night to memorize prayers in a language he can’t speak for a religion he’s not part of, is both hilarious and sweet. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone do homework for me.

I put my lips back to his ear. “Thank you. Again. For doing this. For doing everything.”

He moves his hand up my back, under my hair, and to the nape of my neck. His lips brush against my earlobe. “You’re welcome.”

A chill runs through me, though the temperature of the room hasn’t changed.

Liora’s loud voice interrupts the bubble we’ve created. “…and that’s why we chose to name our son Benjamin David.”

Ben puts his face in my hair. I can feel his laugh vibrating against my skull.

I can’t help but laugh at the irony of Liora trying to name her son after David, and still putting Ben before my ex. People who’ve never even met David like Ben better.

He moves a strand of hair stuck to my cheek. His hazel eyes have flecks of green in them that I haven’t noticed before. A flash blinds me for a second. Ben’s still blinking when I can focus again.

“You two are too cute not to take a picture.” Aunt Deenah holds up her phone. “I’ll text that one to you, Miri. That’s frame-worthy.” She follows the other guests into the kitchen.

Our bubble is gone again. It was nice in there.

“Do you want some food?” I fold the hem of my top between my fingers.

He looks around and then leans closer before answering. “Honestly, I haven’t loved the food I’ve eaten with you guys. I’ll just pick up something on the way home. Thanks, though.”

I look around, too, verifying no one is in earshot. “I think you have to be born into it to appreciate it. I know a great hot dog place down the road if you want to sneak out of here.”

He tilts his head toward the door. “Right behind you.”

I break into a light sprint while everyone else is distracted by baby and food. We slide out the front door and into my car. Benny’s Dogs is only a few miles away. They have the best kosher dogs on the planet and I will fight anyone who says otherwise.

Ben and I go inside the old building and order. The cashier hands us our receipt and drink cups. Ben picks a table near the back after we get our drinks from the machine.

“So what made you want to be a lawyer?” he asks.

I tear the top of my straw wrapper off and blow the end at him. “My grandma always told me I argue too much to have any other job.”

He laughs. “Your grandma is a smart woman.”

“She is. I like the idea of defending people who seem indefensible. I mostly represent corporations in civil suits right now, but I’ve been thinking of trying my hand at some criminal defense.” I push down all the buttons on the top of my plastic lid. “I’ve changed just about everything else in my life, so why not change my career focus as well?”

“It’s not easy to see things in your life that don’t make you happy and change them.”

I’m looking at Ben and I’m trying to see the guy I met in the club weeks and weeks ago. I’m not sure if he’s changed or if I have. Maybe we both did.

“So what do you do when you’re not doing…this?” I make a circle with my hands. I don’t know what the circle means, but I’m trying to avoid calling him a prostitute. Because I’ve grown.

“When I’m not sitting in hot dog shops, I take care of plants.” He winks at me. “I started a company that maintains the foliage in commercial buildings.”

The cashier sets the tray with our dogs on the table. I haven’t been here in a while. Hot dogs are so bad for me and that makes them taste better.

“I thought you went to culinary school?”

He holds his dog toward mine and we tap them like champagne flutes.

“I did. I still love to cook, but I didn’t love it when it was my job. I love working with plants and getting to take care of things. I’m a lot happier now.” He bites into his hot dog and groans. “This is a damn good dog.”

I take a bite of my hot dog and close my eyes to get full enjoyment. Ben’s watching me when I open my eyes. I’ve never seen anyone watch me as much as he does. Or maybe I’ve never watched anyone as much as I watch Ben. Something to think about.

“I have another question for you, and this one’s weird.” I’ve wanted to ask him, but I’m probably breaking all kinds of rules. “You’ve been pretending to be engaged to me all this time and I don’t know your last name. What is it?”

He looks up to the ceiling like he’s thinking hard. “I suppose that’s only fair, Ms. Wexler. It’s Wright. Ben Wright.”

“Did you just say your name like James Bond?”

“I did.” He turns to the side and gives me an almost comically piercing look. “I bet it would’ve played better if I were in a tux, though, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re doing just fine in a suit.” I take a long pull of my soda to keep me from saying something I’ll regret later. I’m paying him to be here. None of this is real.

He finishes his hot dog in two more bites. It takes me a few more than that, but I’m no slouch. David always made fun of me for eating too fast. He cut his food up into tiny bites. That should’ve been a red flag.

***

“Should I call him? I shouldn’t call him. Should I?” I’m lying on my floor with my feet on my bed and my phone plugged into the wall. I’m one headscarf away from a 1950s teen beach movie. I’m pathetic.

“You should definitely call him. Now.”

I don’t know why I asked Sheba. Of course she’s telling me to call the hot prostitute.

“I don’t want to seem desperate.”

“You are desperate. Desperate for his kosher hot dog.”

“I’m not desperate.” Pathetic, yes. Desperate, no.

Sheba groans into the phone. “We’re going to have this same conversation every night until you call him and I’m already irritated about that. You two were eye fucking the hell out of each other today. He wants you. You want him. Just call him now.”

“Fine. I’ll call him. But just to thank him again for coming today.” I’m being polite. That’s all. Giving a verbal thank you card. No other reason to call.

“I bet he would come again if you texted him a picture of your boobs. Just saying.”

I hang up on her. She’s a terrible influence.

Ben’s phone rings once and he answers. That’s improvement.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

I should’ve planned out what I was going to say before I called. “I hope I’m allowed more than one weird question per day, but can I have your real phone number? I hate going through Stephanie’s phone. She scares me.”

It’s impossible, but I can tell he’s smiling.

“She’s more bark than bite. I think. Give me a sec and I’ll call you from my phone. That way you’ll have the number.”

He calls me right back and I answer on the first ring.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Here we are again.

“I wanted to thank you again for coming with me today. I know that’s probably not how you wanted to spend your Thursday evening. I appreciate it.”

“I had a great time. I’m glad you called. Are you doing anything tomorrow night?”

“Oh. I have Shabbat tomorrow night. You?” I move my feet onto the floor because all the blood has drained out of them.

“I have an exciting night of cleaning out Mr. T’s litter box. Try not to be jealous.”

I pick at the hem of my gym shorts. I’m going to work out after I get off the phone. Probably. “Is that your cat?”

“No, it’s my emotionally unstable ferret.”

“That should’ve been my first guess. I’ll let you go since we both have to work tomorrow. Get some sleep. And thanks again.”

“Goodnight, Miryam.”

I end the call and open the picture Aunt Deenah sent me. She was right. This is frame-able. This is how a man should look at a woman. He looks at me like he doesn’t need to look at anything else. And I look a far cry from the dejected woman with food in her hair. This is a good picture. I make it Ben’s contact photo.

I open a new message to him, attach the photo, and hit send.