CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Tabitha couldn’t believe how much money three hundred and forty dollars felt like in her pocket. She could do anything! She could buy as much coffee as she wanted. She could buy any sandwich, any sweater. She could take herself out to lunch. But she didn’t have to take herself out to lunch, since Toby was taking her. In fact, she picked up her pace, because she realized she didn’t have that much time. He had sent a text last night asking her to meet him at Square on Square at twelve fifteen—the Chinese restaurant in her neighborhood that served her favorite wonton soup. She loved that he picked such an unassuming, cozy place for their date. She felt giddy! She had money! She had to stop herself from skipping down the street.
She veered slightly out of her way to stop at Spread Bagelry.
“A dozen everything bagels,” she said to the young man behind the counter. “And a cream cheese and some salmon, please.” She felt like she had walked into Tiffany’s to ask for the diamond bracelet in the case. She watched as he gathered her order and rang it up.
“That will be twenty-nine dollars even,” he said nonchalantly, like everyone could afford nearly thirty dollars for bagels and toppings. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the small wad, then handed him the two twenties, which he took without any indication that what was happening here was nothing short of miraculous. He handed her the change, and she slipped the one-dollar bill into the tip jar.
“Thanks,” he said.
She turned and walked back to Locust, through the Square, and home. She had thirty minutes to change and meet Toby.
When she got to her apartment, her landline was ringing. She was so hyped up from the day so far that she leaned over and answered it, regretting it only after she pushed the “talk” button and said hello.
“Tabitha?” a voice said. “This is Rabbi Rosen.”
Despite her good fortune, or whatever she wanted to call it, she felt so far away from that moment when she had called the synagogue. Had she really done that? What she needed was more coffee, so she could remember what she was feeling when she made the call.
“Hi, Rabbi,” she said. She’d let him lead the conversation.
“Am I getting you at a bad time?” he asked.
“Well, I have to meet someone soon, but I have a minute.”
“Oh good,” he said. “Because I got your rather concerning message just now, saying Levi wants to postpone his bar mitzvah? Is this true?”
She took a deep breath.
“Yes, it is true,” she said. “I’m sorry I left the message that way, I guess I didn’t know how to tell you. Stuart has been away for a long time, and I think it’s taken a toll, I think it has definitely taken the wind out of Levi’s sails.”
“When will Stuart be back?” he asked in a way that made her believe Stuart would one day be back.
“Well,” she said, so tired of lying. “That’s a good question.”
“Tell you what,” he said. “Why don’t you and Levi come in, and we’ll talk? There are so many different ways to do this. We can talk through the options. He’s worked so hard already, I would hate to see him throw that away.”
“That sounds good,” she said, not sure at all that it really sounded good. “When?”
“I have time tomorrow afternoon. Can we say four thirty?”
“Sure,” she said. “See you then.”
Tabitha ran into her bedroom. She was going to change, maybe into a dress or skirt. She looked at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a maroon sweater and jeans. She liked how she looked, and they weren’t going anyplace fancy. She decided not to change, brushed her teeth and hair, and left.
She arrived at the nondescript storefront five minutes early but went in anyway. She was greeted right away.
“I’m meeting someone,” she said. “I’m not sure if we have a reservation. Maybe under Tarrabay or Toby.”
She looked around the restaurant. It was full, and she didn’t see Toby. The server nodded and was about to walk away when Toby rushed in, out of breath.
“Sorry, sorry,” he said. “I wanted to beat you here.”
“No problem,” she said, surprised by how happy she was to see him.
He turned to the server. “I called ahead,” he said. “Table for two, please.”
The server looked around the room. There were clearly no tables available downstairs. Tabitha expected him to tell them it would be a wait, but instead he grabbed two menus, with purpose, and walked past them to a staircase behind them. She never liked to sit upstairs here, because it made her feel far away from the action, but Toby didn’t seem to mind, and she didn’t want to seem difficult, so she followed the server with Toby right behind her. When they got to the top, she saw the room was entirely empty, just as she thought it would be. She didn’t want to be isolated—she wanted other people around. But Toby accepted the table the server pointed to, and got right to looking at the menu.
“The dumplings are great here,” he said. “Really, everything is good.”
Tabitha took her seat and looked around, feeling suddenly uncomfortable and wondering if she had made a mistake by jumping into this too fast.
“What do you like?” Toby asked, looking up from the menu with a concerned look in his eye. “Are you okay here?”
“Yes, of course,” she said, pulling her chair closer to the table and trying to relax. “I always like it downstairs better.”
“Actually, I do, too,” he said, which made her relax even more. “But this is okay. I’m just happy to be here with you.”
Tabitha smiled. Toby closed his menu.
“We never really finished our talk at the game about what is going on with you, with me, with each of us. I guess we barely started it,” he said.
The waiter came over and put two glasses of ice water on the table.
“Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Do you like champagne?” Toby asked Tabitha. At first she thought he was joking, but she realized he wasn’t.
“Sure,” she said.
“Two glasses of champagne, please.”
She waited for him to start the conversation again, but he just smiled at her. She liked that he didn’t feel he had to talk all the time. Stuart was a professional talker. It was like he could never just be quiet or that the silence might reveal something he didn’t want to be revealed. Now she was starting to understand why. But this was nice. She liked this.
When the glasses arrived, he held his up to make a toast. She raised her glass.
“I want to make a toast,” he said. “To you—for being someone who makes me want to get to know her better. I haven’t met anyone like that in a long time. Wherever the dumplings may take us, I am grateful for that.”
“Cheers,” she said.
As if the server were waiting behind a curtain for the cue of Toby finishing his toast, he emerged with a full tray and set down the promised dumplings along with chicken skewers, two egg rolls (the old-fashioned kind), scallion pancakes, and shrimp toast. Tabitha was confused, since they hadn’t ordered, but she was hungry, and she filled her plate. She thought about mentioning how much she liked the soup here, but decided there was plenty already.
“How did he know what we wanted?” she asked.
“Oh, I ordered a sample menu when I called.”
“Then why were you looking at the menu?” she asked.
“I don’t know, it gave me something to do?” Toby said. “But please, if there is something you want that you don’t see here, order it. I was just taking my best guess.”
“No, this all looks great,” she said. She smiled again and took another sip of the sparkling wine. It was so sweet it could have been soda, but she didn’t mind.
“I’ll start,” he said, like they had agreed upon something to talk about. But she knew what he meant. “First, I should say, and I think this is important, I wasn’t looking to meet someone. Honestly. I was just going to the bar to, well, to root for Michigan, and because I was lonely. The fewer meals I have to have alone the better, right? So . . .” he trailed off.
“That’s exactly why I was there, too,” Tabitha said. “The food!”
They both laughed. Tabitha could have said more, that she wasn’t looking to meet anyone either, but it seemed so ridiculous, so obvious, whether he realized it or not; she just couldn’t bring herself to say it.
“That reminds me,” she said. “I thought you said you didn’t eat meat.”
“I said I don’t eat a lot of meat,” he said. “And that’s true. But I do eat some.”
“Oh, okay,” Tabitha said, reshuffling her vision of him. He wasn’t a vegetarian. That was good. She loved meat.
“Okay, so the hard stuff,” Toby said. “You know a tiny bit. My wife and I are legally separated and moving toward divorce.”
He paused, and Tabitha thought, Actually I didn’t know that. But instead of saying it, she nodded as if to say, Go on.
“I know I mentioned an incident, for which I am responsible. I’m sure that conjures up all kinds of ideas in your mind. I’m willing and open to talking about it, if you want me to.”
She did want him to. She was curious. She was also a little scared. It was nice having this . . . possibility, before he became a real person. At some point, if you talked to someone long enough, they were bound to become a real person. She wanted to put that off for a little while. Plus, she didn’t want to be the one answering the questions.
“You know what,” she said. “We don’t have to talk about that now. Can we just eat and talk about something else? These dumplings are delicious. How’s your mother, by the way?”
“She’s okay,” he said, cutting an egg roll in half and putting a clump of cabbage that fell onto the table into his mouth. “She’s still sore, but I think she’s a little better each day. It’s those damn home-health aides who are driving me crazy. Half the time they don’t show up, the other half of the time, they send strangers. I thought I might have to cancel with you because her morning person didn’t come, but she assured me she was okay. I’ll go check on her later.”
Something strange happened in Tabitha’s brain. It was like something was nagging at her, but she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what it was. She tried to brush it off and focus on Toby.
“That’s hard,” Tabitha said, without thinking it through. “Taking care of an older parent.” She stopped, realizing what was bothering her. She pictured her mother on the last day. She was hooked up to oxygen, her eyes hadn’t opened in days. She was right there! But Tabitha couldn’t reach her anymore. She had given up on that days before, weeks before—had it been months before?
“It is hard,” he said.
“Tell me about your daughter,” Tabitha blurted out, before he had a chance to ask what she knew about taking care of an older parent.
“She’s great,” he said. “She’s ten and in fourth grade.”
“No way! So’s mine! Well my daughter is nine and in fourth grade.”
“And she loves to read and play ultimate frisbee. And, as you know, make crafts, especially confetti!”
“That’s all so great.”
“What about your kids?”
“My daughter’s name is Fern, my son is Levi.”
“Good names, I’d say.”
“Yeah,” she said.
The server came back and cleared the plates. There was still so much food left, and these were just the appetizers.
“Do you want to take it?” she asked Toby.
“No, that’s okay,” he said. And then, “Do you?”
“Actually, I would love to,” she said. “My kids could have it for a snack.” And dinner, she thought, and then she remembered the money that was still in her pocket. Her plan was to put it in the bank, at least most of it, but she hadn’t figured out how to do that. She couldn’t put it in their joint account, which had almost no money in it since Stuart’s checks stopped being directly deposited, because she had no idea if Stuart was still interested in that account. She thought she’d start a new account, but how hard was that? Would they ask questions since her other account had taken such a downward turn and her credit was pretty much maxed out at this point? There was only a paltry seventy-five dollars in the joint account the last time she checked.
“So, I’m sitting here thinking I don’t need to know your story, but I think I do,” he said, and he said it so kindly, Tabitha didn’t mind. “I’ll tell you why. I’m starting to like you. I’m sitting here thinking about kissing you.”
“I didn’t go to Michigan,” Tabitha said—blurted, really. She suddenly felt like their whole relationship was built on a lie. “And I didn’t graduate in 1994, so I’m actually older than you think. I went to Trinity, in Hartford.” She had an urge to cover her face with her hands, she didn’t want to see his reaction. Instead she looked down, so she heard his reaction before she saw it, and it was laughter. Toby laughed.
“What?” she asked, daring to look at him.
“I know that,” he said, smiling. “I knew it before you said it, but I let it slide. Actually, that’s what caught my attention: you were so clearly trying to blend in. It made you seem mysterious. Also, no Wolverine would ever accidentally wear red to a Michigan event. It just doesn’t happen.”
“Do you still want to kiss me?” she heard herself saying. She hadn’t even thought it through, she just said it.
“As much as I ever did,” he said in such a way that she felt it in her stomach. “I just want to be sure that would be okay with you.”
“It would be okay with me,” Tabitha said, surprising herself. She hadn’t kissed anyone in months, obviously, but it was the lack of touch that she couldn’t stand. She thought of her mother calling her one day, saying that she couldn’t stand to not be touched, and Tabitha said that was silly, that she was touched. She hated that memory. She drank the rest of the champagne in her glass and got up and walked to Toby, who stood up at her movement. Without hesitating, she leaned in for a kiss. She wanted to do it. He paused for less than a second, but she could feel it, and then he was all-in, and they were kissing, and she didn’t want to stop. She didn’t want to face more questions, sure, but she wanted to keep kissing. She wished they were someplace more private, but they were, thank goodness, in a completely empty room. She didn’t want to break their connection to look around to make sure nobody else had been seated up there, she didn’t want to ruin the mood or give him a chance to talk, but she knew she couldn’t go on kissing him forever. Well, maybe she could. Did it ever feel this way with Stuart? She didn’t think so. He was pleasant enough to kiss, and he always, always had nice smelling breath, but she could always stop, she didn’t mind stopping.
Toby eased back into his chair and pulled her down onto his lap, continuing to kiss her. At first she tried to not put all her weight on him, then she gave up and let go, sitting on him completely.
“Beef chow fun?” the server asked, making them both jump and pull apart. She hopped off his lap, knocking her thigh into the table, then scooted around to her side. Toby was shaking his head, laughing quietly.
“Yes, we’re the beef chow fun,” he said, louder than he had to.
The server put the dish on the table and went back into the kitchen. Now they were both laughing. Toby could barely catch his breath, he was leaning back in his chair clutching his stomach. Tabitha started slowly, but his laugh was so pleasant, so happy, it made her laugh harder, until she had to wipe the tears from her eyes.
“Beef chow fun?” Toby said, when he’d finally gotten some control.
The server came again.
“Moo shu chicken?” he asked. They were beyond being polite. Toby just pointed to the table without saying a word.
“Would you like me to roll it?”
“No, no, we can do it,” Toby said.
The waiter bowed his head and went back through the curtain.
“So my husband disappeared,” Tabitha said.
Toby sucked in his breath.
“He always traveled a lot for business, but one morning, months ago, I woke up and he was gone. There was a note, but it didn’t say where he was going. I haven’t talked to him since.”
“Wow,” Toby said. “That’s a lot.” But as always, he said it kindly.
“Yeah, it is a lot,” Tabitha said. “I’ve tried him. I’ve called, I’ve emailed. I just, I don’t know how to find him. I . . .” She stopped, deciding she wasn’t ready to tell him or anyone about the call to the hospital and the realization that Abigail was dead. Or the possibility that Stuart’s connection to Abigail had been ongoing.
“Oh,” Toby said.
“I should add that things were not great when he left,” she said, because she thought Toby deserved that explanation. “Actually, they were never great. Never. I wanted them to be, and he was kind and polite, but there was always something missing. The night before he left we had . . . words . . . well, a fight, but I never thought he was going to just leave. I thought, stupidly, that we were finally being honest. What we talked about, what he told me, sort of put our entire marriage into perspective, and that was a strange relief somehow. That was partly why it was such a shock when he went away without a trace. That and a few other things. But overall our marriage had been, I’m not sure what the right word is . . . strained? Devoid of passion? I don’t know. But I never expected this to happen. I never expected him to leave us and not look back.”
Unbelievably, the server traipsed out of the kitchen once again.
“Peking duck?”
Toby and Tabitha looked at each other, first with serious looks, then questioning ones, and then they were all-out laughing. They didn’t even try to answer the server or respond to him. He just stood there, holding the lacquered-looking duck out toward them. Finally, Toby moved some things around and pointed to an empty place.
“Would you like me to roll it?”
They were laughing so hard they couldn’t talk. Tabitha worried she was spitting a little.
“No, no,” Toby said, though he was hard to understand. “We can do it.”
“As you wish,” the server said and walked away.
“Hey,” Tabitha said, when she calmed down a little. “That’s from The Princess Bride. I like that he said that. I hope he doesn’t think we were making fun of him.”
“We kind of were,” he said.
“Well,” she said. “We were making fun of his timing, I guess. I’m sorry about that.”
“I’ll make it up to him,” Toby said. “I’ll leave a big tip.”
They both looked at the food, but neither reached for any.
“Do you want to pack it up?” Toby finally asked.
“That would be perfect.”