Rashi's Daughters, Book II: Miriam (46 page)

“You chose a good text for a wedding.” Reuben scanned several more pages. “I can’t believe it. Your father-in-law seems to know just what questions I’m about to ask, and he answers them without so much as an extra word.”

“When Papa started writing his
kuntres
he was too poor to afford parchment, so he had to write succinctly,” Judah explained. “Now he does it out of habit.”

“You must let me copy these. I won’t show them to anyone.”

“All right.” Judah couldn’t refuse Reuben; he owed the man his life. “But only the texts that we study together. I must know that you understand them properly.”

“What are we waiting for? We can study until sunset.” Reuben chuckled and turned to Judah, “No wonder you don’t play the game. Between writing these Talmud commentaries and your wife being a
mohelet
, your life in Troyes is scandalous enough.”

The two men returned to the texts, and only when it was too dark to read without a lamp did they rejoin the wedding party. Judah had no sooner filled his plate than Elisha took it from his hand and laid it on the table.

“Your
souper
can wait. Come dance with me.”

Astonished, Judah followed him. Luckily the dance was the same one that Reuben had just taught him, so he didn’t need to think about the steps. “You’ve been married three days now, Elisha. How are things going?”

“Things are fine,” Elisha replied with a scowl. “But where have you been all afternoon?”

“I met an old study partner from my yeshiva days, and the two of us decided to study some Talmud.”

“In the middle of a wedding banquet, you go off to study Talmud?” One of Elisha’s older relatives tried to cut in, but Elisha shrugged him off.

“Reuben—that’s his name by the way—wanted to see Papa’s
kuntres
, so we went to my lodgings and studied there.”

Elisha’s scowl deepened. “I know his name is Reuben. The man’s notorious for
mishkav zachur
, for lying with other men,” he hissed. “I can’t believe you just spent several hours alone with him in your room.”

Now it was Judah’s turn to get angry. “I can’t believe that you, of all people, would repeat that kind of gossip.”

At least Elisha had the decency to blush. “You and Reuben were study partners?”

Before Judah could answer, Elisha’s mother interrupted them. “Elisha, come and eat. Your food’s getting cold.”

“In a moment, Mama. Let me finish this dance.” When she’d moved out of hearing range, Elisha repeated his question.

“We weren’t study partners like you and I are,” Judah replied. “I was at the yeshiva in Mayence, and when Reuben had business there, we’d study together.”

Elisha appeared somewhat mollified. “Please don’t study with him alone, not with his reputation.”

“We have to study alone. I can’t risk strangers finding out about Papa’s
kuntres
.”

This time Elisha’s father came between them. In a tone that brooked no argument, he said, “Elisha, your bride is lonely waiting for you.” Then he took Elisha firmly by the arm and led him away, leaving Judah standing alone among the dancers.

Back at the table where he’d left his plate, Reuben was waiting. “So, your jealous friend couldn’t wait to dance with you,” Reuben said with a knowing smile.

“Jealous? You’re imagining things.”

“Calm down and have something to eat. The fish is excellent.” When Judah’s mouth was full, Reuben continued, “I saw the look on Elisha’s face when we returned together. Don’t tell me he didn’t ask about us?”

Elisha jealous?
Judah sampled several dishes while he considered Reuben’s statement. “He did ask where I’d been with you for so long.”

“See. I was right.”

“He also said that you were notorious for
mishkav zachur
.” Judah waited for Reuben’s reaction.

Surprisingly, Reuben broke into laughter. “And he was right, too. It takes one to know one.”

Judah looked Reuben in the eye. “Elisha hasn’t done
mishkav zachur
, and whoever says otherwise is a liar.”

“All right, maybe your student doesn’t play the game . . . yet, but his old study partner told me that their relationship was more intimate than just friends.” Reuben winked.

Judah did not want to hear how well Reuben knew Elisha’s old study partner. “Elisha warned me not to be alone with you.”

Reuben sighed. “He’s probably right about that. I don’t want to soil your reputation.”

“I’m more worried about Rabbenu Salomon’s reputation.”

The two men ate in silence until Reuben suddenly slapped the table. “I have it. There’s a synagogue nearby that’s popular with the yeshiva students. Since they’re home for Passover, the place should be practically empty. We can study there.”

“What if somebody sees us?”

“They’ll think we’re studying Talmud, which we are. Nobody is going to examine your texts to see if they’re kosher.”

There was a fanfare from the musicians as bride and groom rose to leave the party. Judah tried to meet his friend’s eye, but Elisha seemed determined to ignore him.

When Elisha disappeared from sight, Judah sat down and addressed Reuben. “Very well. Show me where this place is and I’ll meet you there tomorrow.”

 

The rooster in Salomon’s courtyard crowed again, but Miriam didn’t move, savoring the few moments she had left until the nausea began. The cathedral bells began to toll, and Miriam reached for the matzah on the chest near her bed. The unleavened bread was one of the few foods she could tolerate these days. She sat up slowly and took a small bite. As much as she felt like vomiting, nothing happened. She cautiously finished a whole piece, and when that stayed down, she got up and dressed.

Breakfast was a lukewarm dish of stirabout, sans raisins, and lemon balm tisane with Aunt Sarah, who ate hurriedly before leaving on a case with Elizabeth, her favorite of the Edomite midwives. Aunt Sarah often worried aloud about how Miriam would manage by herself in the future. Until this pregnancy laid her low, Miriam thought she would manage just fine, but now she was relieved that Aunt Sarah was consulting with their Notzrim counterparts.

Miriam sadly surveyed the empty dining room as she drank her second cup of lemon balm. Naturally Yom Tov and Shimson preferred to break their fast at their grandparents’, where the fare was too savory for Miriam’s disposition. Only Shimson still sat with her at synagogue, his brother having abandoned her for the older boys in the men’s section.

Services had barely begun when Miriam felt the familiar ache in her stomach.
Please Mon Dieu, just let me last through the Tefillah; don’t let me shame myself and throw up here.
But when the time came she could barely stand, and only managed to finish the prayer by supporting herself on the balcony’s edge. She was attempting to swallow away the sour taste in her throat when Rivka whispered to her.

“Miriam, you’re as white as snow.” Rivka took her elbow. “Come, let’s get you home.”

“Go on now.” Francesca’s voice was soft with compassion. “We can follow the rest of the service ourselves.”

Other sympathetic voices agreed, and with Rivka holding Shimson, Miriam negotiated the stairs. She leaned against the wall outside as a wave of dizziness rushed over her, but when her stomach retained its contents, she took her mother’s arm and began the slow walk home.

They had gone a couple of blocks when Shimson began squirming to get down. He pointed to the street and yelled, “Look, there’s Papa.”

Rivka grasped him tightly and frowned. “It can’t be your Papa. It’s too early in the morning for travelers to arrive.”

Miriam squinted at the road, but it was too crowded with horses, carts, and shoppers to identify anyone. Shimson was still trying to escape his grandmother’s arms so she explained to him, “Anyone who was that close to Troyes last night would have ridden the short distance into town then and spent the night in his own bed.”

“But it is Papa. I saw him.” Shimson gave a jerk and before Rivka could grab him, he ran across the street.

Rivka bolted after him while Miriam tried to keep up, but she was too light-headed and her stomach hurt. She came to an intersection and stopped to look around, but there was no sign of her son or mother. Please, she prayed, protect my son; don’t let him be trampled by a horse or run over by a cart. Before she could decide which way to go, an upstairs window opened and a waste bucket emptied into the dirt in front of her. The stench was overpowering, and the next moment her own vomit was mingling with the slop at her feet.

Miriam staggered away, desperate for a place to sit down. Just before her legs buckled, a strong arm appeared around her waist, supporting her and leading her toward the nearby square.

Shimson, straddling his father’s shoulders, called down at her, “I told you Papa was here.”

Miriam sank gratefully onto a bench near the well. “Judah, I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

“You shouldn’t . . . be out . . . on the street,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “You’re not well.”

“Your wife, may Heaven protect her, is perfectly healthy,” Rivka said as she strode up, breathing heavily. She lowered her voice. “Her indigestion will likely only last another few months.” As Judah’s expression transformed from confused to joyous, she pumped water into a cup and held it out to Miriam. “Here, rinse your mouth.”

With the vile taste gone, Miriam was almost feeling normal by the time they reached the courtyard gate. Rivka remembered some shopping she needed to do and left the couple alone.

“You’re sure you don’t need to rest?” Judah asked. “I can take Shimson back to synagogue with me.”

“
Non
, I’m much better now,” she said. Judah seemed reluctant to leave, so she asked him, “Did you have a good trip? How was the wedding? Where’s Elisha?”

“The trip and the wedding were fine.” Inexplicably, Judah blushed. “Elisha and the others are probably still sleeping at the inn we stayed at last night. They wanted one last night to celebrate, but I . . .”

“Missed your family and wanted to hurry home.” Miriam smiled and completed his sentence.

Judah’s blush deepened. He could have ridden home the previous evening, and his
yetzer tov
had pressed him to do so, but his
yetzer hara
had tantalized him with thoughts of a final night with Elisha. And though they again shared a bed, their relationship remained platonic. Like the night outside Worms, Judah spent several sleepless hours both worrying and hoping that Elisha would approach him. When he woke early the next morning, he felt so ashamed for imagining that Elisha would do such a thing that he left immediately.

“Do you mind if I tell you about my trip later, when Papa’s there too?” he asked.

“Of course not. We should wait until your students get here.” She smiled again. It felt so good when the nausea was gone. “Did you get to see Catharina in Mayence?” she whispered.

“
Oui
, she’s doing well,” Judah replied. “Her parchment work is getting such a reputation that even Uncle Isaac’s yeshiva sends manuscripts to her for repairs.” He smiled. “She’s expecting another child.”

Miriam gave silent thanks that Catharina’s abortion hadn’t affected her fertility. “Speaking of children, it’s been three days since the
brit
of Yvette’s son. I think I’ll check on them.”

“You’re going out again so soon?” Judah looked shocked.

“Don’t worry, I’m feeling fine now,” she said. “Why don’t you take Shimson with you to synagogue? I’m sure you’re eager to see Yom Tov and Papa.”

“Very well, but let me walk with you to Yvette’s first.” Judah could never understand why pregnant women felt better after throwing up, but Miriam always did. “Wait a moment, did you do your first
brit milah
and I missed it?”

Her face fell. “I was too ill to even attend that morning.”

“But it may be months until you don’t feel nauseous in the morning.”

“I know. It’s so frustrating,” she said. “Now they’ll have another reason why women shouldn’t do circumcisions, just when I thought everyone had stopped talking about it.”

Shimson squirmed to get down, and Judah gently lowered their son to walk between them. “People have accepted you?”

“Everyone is so busy choosing sides between Joseph and Fleur that they’ve stopping discussing me,” Miriam said.

Judah shook his head in dismay. “Papa must have anticipated this. He had me bring a letter to your uncle about the case.”

“What did Uncle Isaac say?”

“He agreed with Papa completely, of course. Only a man’s real property is mortgaged to his wife’s
ketubah
; he may give gifts of personal property to anyone he chooses, whenever he wants, deathbed or not.” Judah paused and then added, “I could tell that Uncle Isaac wasn’t pleased giving his answer, but he had no choice. The law is the law.”

“Fleur’s family isn’t going to be pleased with his answer either,” she said as they approached Yvette’s house.

“Maybe this letter will give people one more thing to talk about.” Judah lifted Shimson up for Miriam to kiss, and the two of them headed for the synagogue.

Miriam watched until Shimson had stopped waving. Once inside Yvette’s house, which like her own was one of three surrounding a spacious courtyard, Miriam changed the new baby’s
haluk
and made sure both mother and son were recovering well.

“Your son continues to wet his swaddling without difficulty?” Miriam asked. A baby was watched to make sure he urinated within three to four hours after his circumcision, as well as regularly after that.

Yvette laughed. “He certainly does.” She offered some bread and cheese to Miriam, who reluctantly declined. “I was worried when you missed the
brit
. I was hoping that you’d be the one to do it.”

“
Merci
, it’s nice to know that somebody besides my family has confidence in me.”