Rashi's Daughters, Book II: Miriam (47 page)

Yvette sighed. “Most of the women do, but it’s not easy to convince our husbands.”

“I doubt I’ll be doing many circumcisions anyway in the next few months,” Miriam said with a smile. It wouldn’t be long before everyone recognized why she was constantly sick to her stomach. She might as well acknowledge it. “Not until I stop feeling so ill in the morning.”

“That’s too bad.” Yvette was quiet for a moment. “Oh, I mean congratulations.”

 

Appreciating Judah’s safe return as she walked home, Miriam couldn’t help but compare her marriage with her sisters’. Joheved had fought bitterly with Meir, but their reconciliation afterward had obviously been a sweet one. And look at Rachel’s refusal to stay behind while Eliezer traveled.

Miriam had missed Judah after he’d left, but what exactly had she missed about him? Their conversations? Talmud study? Using the bed? Or just the snuggling and kissing? And did she actually miss him, or was she merely feeling lonely? Would she still have missed him if Joheved and Rachel had been there? And where was Rachel; didn’t she say she’d be back for Passover?

The more Miriam pondered these questions about her marriage, the less certain she was of her answers. Unbidden came the thought that she would certainly have missed Benjamin if he had been gone so long.
Why did he have to die in that stupid accident?
She fought back angry tears and began to walk faster. Ten years now since he died; why did she still keep thinking about him?

Even as she asked it, she had the answer to her question. In only a few weeks the grapevines would begin to blossom, bringing bittersweet memories along with their sweet scent. It was still difficult to work in the vineyard without remembering him. But autumn was the worst, when it was impossible to tread the grapes without visualizing Benjamin’s unconscious face, slowly sinking into the bubbling must until the last of his brown curls disappeared.

Stop it!
Judah was an excellent husband; they had two fine sons and another child on the way. So why couldn’t she feel the same for him as she had for Benjamin?

 

A week later Rachel slammed the courtyard gate behind her and called out, “Mama, Miriam. I’m home.” When this was greeted with silence, her voice rose with annoyance. “Where is everyone?”

Miriam lifted herself up from the bed, where she had been resting while the men were at afternoon services. She took a bite of matzah and waited for her stomach to settle. Then she leaned out the window and greeted her sister.

“Welcome home. I’ll be right down.”

Rachel took a step back and surveyed her older sibling once the two women finished hugging. “Good Heavens. You always were the thin one, but now you’re nothing but skin and bones.”

Miriam pulled her
bliaut
tight across her belly so her sister could see the unmistakable bulge. “These days I’m lucky if I can find any food that doesn’t make me want to retch.”

“I see. When are you due?”

“After Sukkot, I think.”

“It’s a shame that you have to get so sick, but you’ll probably be feeling better soon.”

Before Miriam could inform her that Joheved was pregnant as well, a cart arrived with Rachel and Eliezer’s baggage.

“Look at these.” Rachel held up some small knives whose handles gleamed with precious gems. “Aren’t they exquisite? You’ll never guess how little we paid. You see, we buy the blades here in Troyes—everyone agrees that our local steel is strongest—and then we have the hilts made in Kairouan. As soon as Countess Adelaide starts cutting her meat with one of these beauties, every noble in Champagne will want one.”

After the jeweled daggers, Rachel displayed some elaborate necklaces, followed by a goodly number of brooches and earrings. By the time everything was stored away, Miriam had heard about watching silk weavers in Palermo, surviving the storm that nearly sank their ship off the Barbary Coast, and visiting the most magnificent synagogues in Toledo, along with several other adventures her sister had experienced during the last six months.

“Honestly,” Rachel said, “if it weren’t that I missed our Talmud study, I’d be traveling all the time. Seeing new places, discovering new merchandise, meeting new people and making deals with them—I love it.” Her face shone with excitement. “And you should see their expressions when they find out that I know Talmud.”

Miriam thought that, with the exception of seeing new places, you could do these things just as well in Troyes.

“I almost forgot,” Rachel said. “I brought back some spices for you. Why should you buy them here when I can get them so much cheaper?”

“What did you get me?” Miriam couldn’t hide her skepticism. When had Rachel learned about midwife’s herbs?

“Pepper, of course.” Rachel pulled a wax tablet from a small chest and consulted it. “Let me see: nutmeg to mix with feverfew in ale to prevent childbed fever, spikenard for fluxes of the womb . . . whatever those are, cumin to seal the cord and for the
haluk
.” She smiled smugly at Miriam’s awed expression.

“
Merci beaucoup
.” Miriam threw her arms around her sister and hugged her anew. “How did you know what to buy?”

“I had a local midwife make me a list, and I also asked the spice merchants for recommendations,” she replied. “Ah, here’s one you might want to use, ginger. As a tisane, it’s said to be excellent for upset stomachs.”

“Ginger?” Miriam gulped. “But ginger is too hot and dry for a pregnant woman.”

“But everyone told me that a ginger tisane cures even the most persistent nausea of pregnancy.”

“Well, I might try a cup and see if it helps. Do you know how much to use?”

Rachel shrugged her shoulders. “I thought you knew all these things. By the way, what tractate is Papa going to teach this summer?”

“Kiddushin. Judah’s been working on it for months.”

The cathedral’s bells sounded the first note of Vespers. The cathedral, the bishop’s church, had the right to speak first, before the count’s chapel or the abbey of Notre-Dame-aux-Nonnains—the precedence conceded to Bishop Hugues after an acrimonious debate. The men would be finishing their evening prayers and arriving home soon.

The front door opened and Rivka burst in. “Rachel! Anna told me you were here.” She looked up and began addressing the ceiling. “How did I raise such an inconsiderate child? Gone for over six months, and she sits here chatting for who knows how long without letting her poor mother know she’s home.”

Rachel gave her mother a hug. “I’m sorry, Mama. I did call out for you when I arrived, and when you didn’t answer I assumed you were at services with Papa. I haven’t been here that long; I’d only just arrived when the bells started chiming.”

“At least you could have sent word in advance so I could have prepared a better meal.” Before Rivka could continue chastising her youngest daughter, they could hear men’s voices at the gate and Rachel bolted for the door.

Miriam slowly followed her and surveyed the scene outside. Mama looked like she’d drunk a cup of vinegar as Papa embraced Rachel and swung her around as if she were still a child. Judah and Eliezer were walking arm in arm, as Elisha followed with the other students, a sour expression on his face as well.

Miriam sighed. Elisha would likely feel better after some time with his wife when he returned to Worms for Shavuot, but Mama would always resent Papa’s affection for Rachel.

M
iriam and Judah were preparing for bed when they heard the insistent knocking at the door that opened to the street.

Miriam slipped her
bliaut
on again and hurried downstairs. “Who’s there?” she called out, wondering which of her patients needed her.

“It’s Elisha.”

Judah poked his head over the landing and the next moment the two men were embracing like brothers.

“I had to see you.” Elisha, grinning widely, kept his arm around Judah’s shoulder. “I couldn’t wait to tell you the news.”

Miriam came closer. “What is it?”

“My wife is with child, may the Holy One protect them both.” He stepped back so he could see their faces light up.

Miriam was the first to react. “That’s wonderful.”

Judah’s jaw dropped. Elisha had obviously impregnated his wife during the wedding week, yet he’d been so reticent on the subject during their trip back to Troyes that Judah wasn’t sure the couple had performed the holy deed.

Miriam and Elisha were waiting for his reaction, so Judah cleared his throat and patted Elisha’s back. “See, you were worried over nothing.”

Elisha stepped back, a sober expression replacing the happy one. “But now that I’ll have a family, my father says that I’ve got to start supporting them.” Elisha’s chin began to quiver. “This will be my last year at the yeshiva.”

“Oh dear,” Miriam said. Judah remained speechless, more stunned than when Elisha announced his wife’s pregnancy.

“During the Hot Fair I’ll have to spend the afternoons, and maybe some of the evenings, meeting other merchants and finding a business partner,” Elisha said.

Elisha leaving the yeshiva
—
no, this isn’t happening.
Judah finally found his voice. “You mean this coming year will be your last?”

“
Non
, this past year was my last.” Elisha shrank under Judah’s stricken gaze. “It’s not my decision.”

Miriam stepped between them. “Judah, no student stays in the yeshiva forever.” She put her hand on his arm. “Unless he marries the rosh yeshiva’s daughter.”

“It’s not like we’ll never see each other again,” Elisha said. “I’ll be back twice a year at fair time.”

“Thank Heaven,” Judah said.

Tears filled Elisha’s eyes. “I owe you two so much . . .” He paused and then said solemnly, “If my child is a boy, I’d like to name him Judah. And if it’s a girl, Miriam.”

Miriam began to cry too. “That’s too much honor. You should name your first child after someone in your family.”

“My sisters have children named for family. I want to name this child after someone who treated me kindly, to seal our friendship.”

“Friendship is a mutual relationship,” Judah said. “If Miriam is carrying a boy, we should call him Elisha.”

Miriam stared at her husband in surprise. Three sons and none of them named after Judah’s father or her own. Still, if that’s what he wanted . . . she slowly nodded.

Judah gazed at her with thanks, and then Elisha, realizing that she had consented, threw his arms around Judah with even more enthusiasm than when he’d first arrived. “You would name a son after me?” His voice was filled with awe.

“You have been like a younger brother to us.” Then Miriam’s voice dropped. “But enough on this subject. We don’t want to tempt the Evil Eye.”

The next two weeks were like old times. Judah and Elisha woke early to study with the Eastern merchants, shared meals, and studied together with Eliezer late into the night. While Elisha and his father attended to business after
disner,
Judah worked with his younger students on that day’s lesson.

Joheved’s family arrived for the summer, so the three sisters were finally able to study together again. Like their husbands, they were discussing Tractate Kiddushin, except that their hands were busy spinning wool.

“This Mishnah in the fourth chapter doesn’t seem right,” Joheved said with a frown.

Yet Miriam teaches our sons almost every day, and Meir taught Aunt Sarah’s grandchildren in Mayence when he boarded there.”

Rachel pointed to the text with her spindle. “Papa says in his
kuntres
that the Gemara will explain it.”

“The Mishnah’s short,” Miriam said. “Let’s finish it and then get to the Gemara.

She paused to find their father’s comments. “Papa says the two men may be drawn to
mishkav zachur.
”

“That’s possible,” Rachel said with a shrug. “Especially if they’re young and naked under that blanket.”

“But everyone sleeps naked, and you don’t see all the yeshiva students lying with each other,” Joheved protested.

“Of course you don’t see them.” Rachel’s voice was heavy with sarcasm.

“Enough,” Miriam said. “I want to know what the Gemara says about women teaching.” She continued to read.

Joheved nodded. “So that’s why the Sages permit unmarried men to sleep together—they don’t suspect them of
mishkav zachur
.”