Authors: Michaela Greene
It should have been music to my ears. The old Shoshanna would have been ecstatic, hearing about his financial fitness. But all I could focus on were his soft lips and how great he had smelled when I’d hugged him.
“Thanks for saying that,” I said. “But I’m suddenly more interested in what’s in your pants than what’s in your wallet.”
“Well, I’m not Jewish, but…” He shrugged and winked, his meaning obvious.
I smiled at his joke.
He smirked back, “So what happens now, Shoshanna?”
Without a word, I gently scooped up Armani from Nate’s lap and put him on the floor, despite the cat’s noisy complaint.
Nate looked at me. His eyes were still red-rimmed from his earlier tears, but he was smiling, waiting for my next move. I leaned in close, put my arms around him, closed my eyes, and gave him my answer.
Epilogue
It’s been almost two months since Rosh Hashanah and Bev and Jacob are totally an item. So much so, that Jacob has applied to transfer to NYU so he can be close to Bev while he finishes his degree. They broke the news to Susan, who was so thrilled, she cried.
I have to admit that since I’ve given him a chance, I really like Jacob. Especially since Bev confided in me that the reason he always seemed so weird is that he has a slight social phobia and gets really nervous around people, causing him to sometimes say stupid things. After he and Bev had a few good rolls in the hay, he was able to speak to me like a normal person. And Bev is a whole new woman now that he’s around; more self-confident and just really, really happy.
My mother is still
shtupping
my uncle Moishe, but thankfully the relationship is not going anywhere. Although it’s kind of gross thinking of my mother having a casual sex partner, it has totally improved her mood and they have decided, thankfully, that telling my dad would probably be a bad idea. As for her new fondness for sweats, well that part I could do without. She actually had the nerve to ask me if I wanted to go to Target with her because she heard they had
designer
sweats. What’s next for her? A retirement villa in Boca Raton? Sheesh, Mother.
I suppose I can’t complain as long as she continues to keep the drama to a minimum. And after Simon came out at Rosh Hashanah dinner, family news of Tippy Rosenblatt has been moved to the backburner anyway. Uncle Moishe found out (thanks, I’m sure, to Lauren) and had a temper tantrum until Dad forced them all to go to therapy together, which didn’t cure the situation but did manage to diffuse it a little. Now that they’ve begun to move past it, Simon is so relieved to have it all off his chest, he says his relationship with Ben has never been better.
Dad has been crazy busy at work so other than our Sunday brunch dates, we don’t see each other much. He did tell me last week that Caroline is doing really well at the law firm and is competently filling the void Marnie left when it was time for her to take her mat leave (and not a day too early: she delivered the day after she left the firm). Dad even says he’s already working on the other partners, making plans to create a new position for her for when Marnie comes back, saying it would be a shame to lose such a good worker.
And that brings me to the other two important men in my life. The first one is completely back to normal since his surgery and once he got his appetite back, it didn’t take long for him to get back to his normal twelve pounds. He’s still shedding like crazy, but never again will I complain about following him around with a lint brush.
And then there’s Nate. We’re officially a couple but are taking it day by day. There’s so much more to him than I had ever imagined and it doesn’t just have to do with him being good with his hands (I
know
you know what I mean) or his cute ass and how it looks framed by a tool belt. He’s super caring and thoughtful and so down to earth that I never have to question the motives behind anything he does. Our relationship is so…easy, without expectations or pressure.
Here’s what’s really amazing: he hasn’t bought me any jewelry, but you know what? It doesn’t bother me. It
really
doesn’t, even though the old Shoshanna never would have gone for that. The old Shoshanna would have kicked him to the curb long before now. But the old Shoshanna is long dead.
The
new
Shoshanna is growing up. Maybe she won’t be a spoiled Jewish princess forever. Maybe she’s learning what love is.
Maybe I’ll even get my bubby to teach me how to make matzo ball soup so I can cook it for Nate. He’d love that: coming home after a hard day at work and sitting down to a home-cooked old-school Jewish meal made with love, just for him.
Nah, who am I kidding? We can always just order in Chinese.
* * *
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What’s up next?
Love for Scale
, a funny and heartwarming novel about a big girl desperate to make a change.
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Love for Scale
Prologue
The bridal shop Sheri had picked for this week’s excursion didn’t carry many gowns in plus sizes. This was not unprecedented; whenever it happened, Sheri automatically got to play the bride.
Rachel tried not to sulk, but she hated being the maid of honor. Being maid of honor doesn’t really mean anything.
Only being the bride matters. Being the bride means someone is in love with you and is ready to pledge to spend the rest of their life with you.
Being a maid of honor just means another girl likes you enough to make you wear an expensive dress and shoes to match while you stand beside her, dwarfed in her radiant beauty.
So as Rachel stood and ooohed and ahhed as required at her best friend as Sheri twirled in gown after stunning gown in a perfect sample size eight, she got more and more sad.
Was she destined to only ever be the maid of honor?
Chapter 1
“Wait a minute, Mother. You signed me up for…what?” Rachel’s toast halted halfway to her mouth.
Pearl Stern exhaled loudly and took great care in buttering her toast before answering her daughter. “Speed dating. At the shul tomorrow night. It’s the latest way to meet people.” She said it as though she knew everything that was in vogue.
“I don’t need to meet people,” Rachel said, feeling the blood rush to her face. Her mother had always been something of a typical Jewish mother, always looking to play matchmaker, but this took the cake.
“Everyone needs to meet people. Why shouldn’t you?”
“Ma…” Rachel took a breath. “I’m not going to speed dating at the synagogue.”
Pearl’s smile didn’t falter even a bit. “Yes you are. We told the rabbi you’d be there and your father already paid for it on his Visa. Nonrefundable. Just think: that handsome rabbi will be there…”
Rachel rolled her eyes at her mother. “I’m not going out with a rabbi.”
“You could do worse.”
Rachel looked down at her plate of bacon and eggs. “Think about it, Ma. I’m not dating a rabbi.”
“Well, Rachel, you need to be dating somebody. You’re almost thirty; you need to start thinking about finding a husband.”
Rachel hardly needed to be reminded that she was approaching thirty, although her drama-loving mother had a tendency to round up. A lot.
“Mom, I’m twenty-seven. And I’ll find my own dates, thank you very much.” But in her twenty-seven years on the planet, Rachel had never once won a battle of wills with her mother.
Today would be no different. Pearl shook her head. “You are going to speed dating, Rachel Stern.”
And that was that.
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