The Families in Rossford

ACT  TWO

 

NEW

YEAR

YOU SHOULD BE HERE and I should be here

and the beginning of all pleasure should be here,

and here should end all entitlement,

all anger,

all despair.

You cry,

Look! I know.

I cry too.

It isn’t fair.

No, it never was. 

Lift your voice and sing,

bring your voice to the tavern and dance

as you sing,

drink as you dance,

god is a drunk old man, twirling in the sky,

and so am I,

this rhythm is the only thing

that keeps our world moving.

-Layla Lawden

---

FIVE

NEW YEAR’S EVE

While he slept next to her on the plane, Layla looked Will over. William Klasko in his blazer and open shirt, William Klasko, scruffy and unshaven with the nose that tipped forward, Jughead from Archie like. William Klasko of the thick tangle of hair that she liked to wade her hands through.

She looked out of the window. Beneath her the clouds moved slow as whales. She had never been out of the country and rarely off of the ground. She didn’t know where she was now. She might be over Greenland. Reshifting so that she didn’t wake Will, Layla pulled out her notebook and scribbled.

 

I see him, hair in a tangle, lips like a rose,

proud eyes burning,

you teach me by being,

I will become human by living,

I will evolve from this thing in the sea,

to become the thing in the air who can

learn to float again in the sea—

I will get past me, and the roadblock to us.

 

We will dance in the dust,

as long as you stand there,

hair in a tangle, lips like a bow,

I know, we are invincible.

 

She looked at him and smiled, then wrote:

 

I go back now to the place of rest.

I go back to knowing I am love again

I go back to know I have loved you

and that is all that matters no matter

what,

no matter how you received it.

 

if you drank it and drank it and then

sank it, or if you threw it to the ground

like water.

 

And when I stopped being

stone and learned alone the secret

of society, did I know love would

be a blanket to cover me?

and when

you spilled out my love on the sand,

did you know then

that it would never come

again?

 

Will blinked at her and yawned a bit. His eyes were black jewels winking through lashes as they squinted. He closed them again.

“What are you thinking?” he said to her.

“Nothing,” she said.

MEREDITH YAWNED AND STRETCHED back, her belly a bowl before her, and then she crossed the kitchen to Chay and embraced him, and then embraced Casey.

“I can’t believe you all are going back.”

“It’s New Years Eve, that’s the time to go back,” Chay told her.

“I know,” Meredith said. “And I’ll be back in a few days, myself. But… Chicago is so much bigger than Rossford.”

“Look, Meredith,” Casey said. “Just make it a priority to come see us. We’ll have a room all ready for you.”

Meredith nodded. “I will. I promise. I’m starting to lose all my friends. I’m turning into one of those people.”

“Those people suck,” Casey said. “So you mustn’t become part of that.”

“Amen,” Chay murmured.

“Oh, are you guys still picking up Logan?”

“Yup,” Chay said. “Cause I think Sheridan’s staying here an extra day or something.”

“Well, I don’t know if Todd told you this or not already,” Meredith was saying, “But he wants you to stop in and check on Maia and Laurel.”

“What for?”            

“To see if they’re alright, of course.”

“Aren’t they staying with some Orthodox Jews?” Casey said.

“Yup. Melanie’s cousin.”

“Well, then why would he want…? You know what?” Casey waved it off. “I’ll do it.”

“But we need an address,” Chay said.

“Of course you do,” Meredith told them.

She turned around and went down the hall. A few minutes later she returned with a slip of paper.

Casey screwed up his eyes and looked it over. “Alright,” he murmured, “Okay. We can do this.”

Chay nodded.

“I don’t usually have much cause to go to Rogers Park. This’ll be interesting.”

“Hey folks!” a voice came calling down the hall.

“Logan?” Chay shouted down.

“The same,” Logan Banford announced as he entered the room.

“Why isn’t Sheridan coming with us, again?” Chay asked.

“Because he can’t come with us and stay with Brendan,” Logan said. “Or rather—come with Brendan.”

“You’re so foul,” Meredith told him.

“There’s nothing between them,” Chay dismissed that.

“Brendan and Kenny are split, me and Sher are split, and he always had a thing for Bren, who is hot by the way. And a lawyer. So…” Logan shrugged.

“Okay!” Meredith threw up her hands. “This is too much gossip. You all gotta get the hell out of here and I need to bathe.”

Hugging them all one by one, she shooed them out of the kitchen and toward the door.

When they were out, Nell Affren came downstairs in the kimono Bill had bought her the year before.

“A virtually empty house,” she remarked. “All over again.”

Meredith nodded.

“Do you want to go to lunch with me and Dena this afternoon?” Nell asked.

“No,” Meredith shook her head. “Thanks, though.”

“Are you not feeling well?” Nell put a hand to her head.

“I’m fine, Nell,” Meredith told her stepmother. “I just have to go visit someone. I think.”

Meredith walked back toward the kitchen.

“If he’s not free—” she began.

“He?”

“Relax, it’s not even like that. But if he’s not, then do you all still want to take me to lunch?”

“After we get over being second choice, we’ll let you come along,” Nell said. “I have to get dressed though.”

Meredith nodded, then went to the phone and dialed a number.

After a bit Sheridan Klasko answered.

“Hello?”

Meredith said, “Are you free for lunch?”

His voice changed, “Mere? Yeah. I sure am.”

“Great. I’ll come by at twelve.”

“I said my treat.”

“Well, that’s some bullshit,” Sheridan told her, closing the menu. “I’m perfectly capable of paying for my own meal.”

“I was the one who said we should have lunch,” Meredith continued, “and so I thought my treat.”

“No,” Sheridan said again, simply. “And what happened that you called?”

“I was saying goodbye to Chay and realized I was in danger of losing all of my friends. I was remembering that we haven’t hung out in a long time. And then Logan went back with Chay and Casey, so I thought about you.”

“I just realized how rude I sounded,” Sheridan said.

“Yeah,” Meredith said with false astonishment. “You did. I wonder why? Probably because I deserve it for being a cunt.”

“I miss your lady like use of the word cunt.”

“Well,” Meredith said, “I might as well ask you now. I might as well admit I want to eat with you in order to gossip.”

“About?”

“About you,” Meredith said. “And now I wonder why because you were always so private.”

“And is that a bad thing?”

“It’s a bad thing when I’m feeling nosey.”

Sheridan was quiet for a moment, and then he said, “I think I just realized the problem with us.”

“Aside from that we don’t talk enough?”

“It’s probably related to that,” Sheridan said. “But I’m serious.”

“Alright,” Meredith said, folding her hands in front of her, and trying to look serious.

“I’m going to ignore that cheesy pose,” Sheridan said.

“You’re like my sister is the problem.”

“Okay,” Meredith waited for more clarification.

“You’re not like my buddy or my best friend, or my confidante.”

“Thanks, Sher—”

“I mean, you’re literally like my sister. You’re like… if I was Brendan, you wouldn’t be Dena or Layla. You would be Carol.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” Sheridan discovered. He gave her a real smile. “It’s just the way shit is between us.”

“So… speaking of you and Brendan…”

“Yes?” Sheridan frowned at her.

“Logan thinks you’re trying to date him or something.”

“Logan thinks a lot of stuff.”

“Are you?”

“Whaddo you think?”

“Sheridan, you’re being evasive!”

“No, I’m not,” Sheridan said. “I’m explicitly not answering your question.”

The server came forward with their drinks, and Meredith nodded to him with a smile while Sheridan said, “Thank you.”

“I would just like to get a straight answer out of you. For once,” Meredith Affren said.

“Well, how about this?” Sheridan said. “If you give me a straight answer, I’ll give you one.

“Aha! Look at that,” Sheridan hit the table. “You don’t even know what I was going to ask, and look at that look on your face! Well, I’ll tell you. I was going to ask you,” Sheridan leaned in nearer to her, his pale blue eyes fixing her, “Can you picture me and Bren together? Or does it just look awkward?”

Meredith grimaced and sat back, thinking about it.

“Actually,” she said, “the way he is with you, the way he’s always been with you, it could be sort of sweet. That Brendan and Kenny shit was getting old.”

When Sheridan nodded, Meredith saw the smile he could hardly suppress.

“You all are getting together!”

“Not yet,” Sheridan said. “And not really.”

Meredith took a sip from her margarita.

“Pardon me, but I have another question.”

What Meredith had said was making Sheridan feel generous and so he said, with a wave of the hand, “Sure. Shoot.”

“Okay. Brendan acts like your big brother. And he is your big brother’s best friend. So…?”

“Yeah?” Sheridan said, over his beer.

“How would sex work out between you? Like… how do you envision the first time?”

Sheridan went red at this, and Meredith said, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No,” Sheridan said. “No, no. It’s just…”

Meredith waited.

“Do you remember before Bren and Kenny went off to Chicago and after I split up with Chay and was going back to Logan.”

“Yes. I was still having that on again off again but basically off again thing with Mathan.”

“Right,” Sheridan said, though, in fact, this was news to him.

“Well, me and Brendan had sex then.”

“What!”

“I’m not repeating that.”

“You all slept together? Like, three years ago?”

“Yes,” Sheridan said. “It sort of just happened and it was really, really intense. But Brendan felt like it shouldn’t have happened, and we had other things going on. So we just sort of went back to being what we were and forgot about it.”

“Only you didn’t forget about it.”

“Of course I didn’t forget about it!” Sheridan said. “How could I forget having sex with my brother’s best friend.”

Then Sheridan said, “But I think he did.”

“Bullshit,” Meredith shook her head.

Sheridan looked at her.

“That’s bullshit,” she repeated.

“You don’t forget one night you spent screwing someone.”

“We actually did it a few times. Three or four times before we just decided to chill out.”

“Well, then of course he remembers. He’s an attorney for Christ sake. And… once, six years ago, I accidentally ate a piece of cheesecake Fenn marked for him and that son of a bitch still brings it up. Trust me, Bren never forgets.”

Sheridan nodded. His eyes changed to a darker blue and he said, “Maybe he just regrets that it happened.”

“I doubt that,” Meredith said. “Maybe he’s just afraid.”

“Um,” Fenn Houghton commented as he sat across the kitchen table from Tara Veems and his sister, “Brendan’s going out. And Sheridan’s not with him for the first time in a week.”

“Sheridan, Will’s brother?” Adele clarified.

Fenn nodded as he dug into left over macaroni.

“The same,” he said. “He’s practically been living here.”

“With Dylan and Lance upstairs and the two of them downstairs, you got a Love Boat going on,” Tara said.

“Now you just better make sure you tend to your own love life,” Adele told her brother.

“That is in no danger or changing. It’s no way I’m going to be the only person in my house not having sex—

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Fenn looked at Dylan coming down the stairs with Lance.

“I’ll go get a coat,” Dylan said, sulkily.

“You will go and get a coat and take that silly ass hat off your head.”

“You don’t make Lance get bundled up like a twelve year old,” Dylan muttered, going back upstairs.

“Lance isn’t my son,” Fenn said, as Lance Bishop followed Dylan, “so he can be as stupid as he wants to be and contract pneumonia as many times as it suits him.”

“I’ll put a coat on!” Lance shouted down the stairs.

“What is it with white folks?” Fenn wondered. “Do they think that if they dress like it’s spring, then it will be?”

“It must be like having another son in the house,” Tara said, “when he’s here.”

“I don’t know what it’s like,” Fenn said. “And I don’t dare go upstairs when the door’s close. That’s his best friend and his ex so I don’t know if their lip syncing or fucking.”

“You are an amazing man,” Adele told her brother. “You do things I could never have done with Layla.”

“I’m also twenty years older than you were with Layla. And had things been different and Layla ended up with Dena instead of Will—”

“That would have been very different.”

“Agreed. But if it had been that way, would you have been able to split them up just because you suspected more was going on when the door was closed than made you comfortable?”

“Alright,” Dylan bounced into the kitchen, “Is this enough?”

“Don’t try me, Dylan. You know it is.”

“And me?” Lance said. “Even though I’m a nineteen year old grown man.”

“Did I ever tell you what to do?” Fenn said.

“You did imply it.”

“Well, then right now I’m implying that a nineteen year old grown man should know better than to walk out the door in a Starter jacket and ball cap and let his best friend walk out in a tee shirt and silly knit cap with pom poms.”

Lance opened his mouth, but Fenn said, “And now you can both go, and don’t come back without milk, orange juice and pancake mix.”

“Is that all?” Dylan said.

“Now that you mention it, a quart of yogurt for the chicken tonight, and Todd needs Shabbos candles.”

“We better go,” Dylan told Lance, “or he’ll have us buying up the whole store.”

“Don’t be insolent and kiss your aunts before you leave.”

Dylan did so while Lance politely said, goodbye and then Fenn said, “What about me? Or are you so exasperated you can’t kiss your old father?”

Dylan rolled his eyes and kissed his father on the cheek and then headed out of the kitchen.

“I like that Lance boy,” Adele said.

“And how many people have a chance to raise their son-in-laws?”

Fenn shook his head ruefully at this comment, but Adele said, “I thought Todd would be back from Temple by now.”

“Remember, Todd went Conservative,” Tara said. “So did Melanie. They might not get back from the synagogue until two o’ clock.”

“Um, that reminds me,” Fenn began.

“Of?” Tara looked at him.

“Your daughter and our niece spending their first Sabbath in an Orthodox synagogue.”

Maia and Laurel sat, quiet with their prayerbooks in hand. Laurel turned to Maia and looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, you know what you should have gotten,” the middle aged woman behind her said, “A transliterated one. Hold on.”

She got up, and a few moments later returned with two books.

“Now you want to be right here,” she stage whispered.

On the other side of the screen the men were garbling something Laurel couldn’t understand, and then suddenly they went into song. She had been feeling profoundly uncomfortable since she’d come this morning and now suddenly the singing touched her.

“Right here,” the woman behind them said. All the other women rose, and Laurel and Maia got up with them. She finished whispering, “Follow along with the English. If you’re feeling adventurous, give the transliterated part a go. I’ll be back.”

She was a narrow woman with grey hair that peeked from under a purple cap, and she came out to read off, “Mishebararachs for Simon Rubenstein…” and then a list of names that went past Laurel’s head. A hand touched her on the shoulder and she turned around.

“Welcome,” a blond woman in glasses smiled at her. “You all must be Laurel and Maia.”

“Yes,” Laurel said, and Maia echoed her.

“I’m Laura. So we’ve almost got that in common. And that’s Lizzy out there.”

“Have you guys ever been to a synagogue before?” another woman with frizzy reddish brown hair said, interested. “I’m Miriam.”

“Maia’s Jewish, but she goes to a Reform synagogue,” Laurel said.

“Well…” Miriam said, looking at Lizzy, “it works for some people.”

“It doesn’t really work for me,” Maia said. “This is my first time at an Orthodox place. And… Laurel’s never been in any shul at all.”

“If you get confused or… need anything,” Miriam said, “Just let us know.”

“My father was a Baptist,” Laura said as Lizzy came back behind the mehitzah, “and my mother was Reform. I have to tell you, neither one prepared me for an Orthodox synsagogue.”

There had been man after man, garbling something quickly, some times stammering over whatever they were saying. Now a sonorous voice began to chant and Lizzy smiled brightly at the girls while Laurel said, “That is so beautiful.”

“That is Moshe.”

“Moshe!”

“Yes… Your cousin,” she said to Maia. “He is one of our best readers. Hashem gave him a gift.”

Between the reeds of the mehitzah, Laurel saw the tall young man reading from the Torah scroll at the bema. Up until now, her embarrassment had overcome her sense of the sacred. Now it was beautiful to her, and in a way so was he. When he was done there was more chanting, but not like that, and then, with a jingling, the Torah was being wrapped up, and silver things were put on it. It was hoisted into the air, and on the other side, men with their great tallits and fringes rose while, here, the women rose and they began to sing. Laurel had to sing it as well. Her eyes followed the words on the page.

 

Eitz  cha-yim  hi,

la-ma-cha-zi-kim  ba,

v'to-m'che-ha  m'u-shar.

d'ra-che-ha,  dar-chei  no-am,

v'chawl  n'ti-vo-te-cha,  sha-lom.

O-rech  ya-mim  bi-mi-na,

bish-mo-lah  o-sher  v'cha-vod.

A-do-nai  cha-feits,  l'ma-an  tsid-ko,

yag-dil  To-rah  v'ya-'dir.

 

Then all at once, conversation ceased, and they began to chant, on the other side of the mehitzah, and within:

As they sang, the Torah was placed in the ark and the doors were closed. Moshe had turned from the bema and, in an instant, caught Laurel’s eye. She thought to turn away, but stood looking at him through the slats. He smiled at her, and for reasons she could not explain, she stuck out her tongue, and turned away.

“You girls have become belles of the ball,” Marta declared.

“Everyone’s pretty friendly,” Maia said.

“I was going to have you sit with us, but I think Lizzy’s already kidnapped you. There’s the line for the chicken. Don’t be sweet about it. Just push on through.”

“This is like a family dinner,” Laurel marveled.

“That’s just it,” Marta said, guiding them through, while women smiled at them, and some boy in a black brimmed hat gave her an inappropriate wink, “once you realize it’s just like family, all of your little niceties fade away.”

“Girls!” Lizzy was coming forward, “I stole about half the hotdish from Aaron’s table. They were hogging it all. Come over with me, and we’ll just talk.”

“See,” Marta said, and shooed the girls in Lizzy’s direction.

“There they are,” Laura said. “So I have a question for you, Laurel?”

“Alright,” Laurel said, sitting down, taking a drumstick and putting it on her plate.

“Had you thought of becoming Jewish?”

Laurel opened her mouth, and when nothing came out, Maia said, “Laurel is so polite, and what I think she means is it never occurred to her.”

“I only ask,” Laura said, “because you’re just a natural fit.”

“I don’t even know Hebrew,” Laurel said. “I am… absolutely awkward.”

“You’re a dear,” Lizzy disagreed. “And you have mastered a great Frum trick.”

“Which is?” Laurel said.

“Your entire body is covered,” Laura explained. “You look completely demure, and the boys still can’t stop looking at you.”