The Families in Rossford

“You have an awesome apartment,” Maris said before reforming, “Actually, any apartment is awesome to me though.”

“Where are your parents?” Lindsay asked, walking around the place.

Maggie looked at Lindsay.

“I mean your mother.”

“My mother,” Maggie said, “is in New Mexico, where I left her.”

“Wait?” Maris said.

“Yeah?”

“If your mother’s in New Mexico—“

“How do I pay for this apartment?”

“No,” Maris said, “though that’s an interesting question too.  But what I was going to say is, ‘Why the hell are you in Rossford?’ I mean, it seems like things should be the other way around. I would run away from Rossy in a minute.”

“Rossford’s not so bad,” Maggie said, handing Maris a Coke, and then Lindsay one too, while she went to sit on the beat up sofa. “It’s next to Chicago and there’s even a handy dandy train to take you there.”

“But that’s not why you moved here,” Lindsay said.

“No, it certainly isn’t,” Maggie agreed.

“I saved up a lot of cash and came out here. Mom sends me money once a month. She says it’s cheaper to keep me out here in Indiana than to raise me in New Mexico.”

“I wish my mother would do that,” Maris said.

“I don’t,” Lindsay disagreed, soberly, sitting on the edge of the sofa.

“I came out here,” Maggie said, “because my father lives here, and I’m going to find him.”

Both girls looked at her.

“So…” Maris began, “you traced him to here, but you don’t know who he is yet?”

“I do know who he is,” Maggie said. “Only… I don’t want him to know who I am. That’s all. Not yet.”

“What will you do when you meet him?”

“I don’t know,” Maggie said.

“Well, you’ll have to do something,” Maris said.

Suddenly a little put out with Maris, Maggie said, “And what will you do when that baby of yours starts showing?”

“See, what this is,” Sean Babcock told Kenny, as they sat in his house, “is the day before New Year’s turning into New Year’s Eve. We’re getting pretty close to sundown, I think.”

“Whaddo we do about that?” Kenny said.

“Well, let’s see.” Sean held out his hand to tick off options. “I have a family party I could go too, which will be awkward because my brother will be there, and his significant other will be there as well. Seeing as I broke up their relationship once, that could be interesting.”

“Seeing as I used to sleep with Chad, it could be very interesting.”

Sean looked at Kenny in shock.

“I was thinking about hiding it, but I don’t want to hide things anymore. I’m too old.”

“Well, what are your New Year’s Eve options?”

“My New Year’s Eve options are bound up in a group of people who acknow-ledge me and Brendan as a couple and wherever I go, he will go and… that’s not so great right now. Will and Layla are on a plane to London, and Milo and Dena will be exhausted by their children, passed out somewhere.

“And then, of course, there is New Year’s with my mother, my father and their dogs. And my father will probably say something like, see, ‘I knew sodomy couldn’t last’ even though we lasted for eighteen years.”

“Wow,” Sean said, “I hate to say it, but being with my family seems a hell of a lot better. Would you like to try it?”

“Will there be drama?”

“Four gay men, three of them with advanced degrees in music, and most of them having slept together at one point in time?”

“Two gay brothers who were sleeping with the same man?”

“Yes, don’t forget about that,” Sean nodded. “Yup, there’s gonna be drama.”

Kenny stood up and stretched. “Well, then I better get showered. Sounds like we’ve got some place to go after all.”

“Wait a minute, wait for it,” Will said, his arm hooked around Layla, while the bellhop opened the door.

“Oh, my God!”

While the bellhop brought in the bags, Will walked Layla in and she said, “Have you been living like this everytime you leave the country?”

“Hardly,” Will told her. “But I thought for us, this was worth it. For your first trip out of the country.”

“Oh,” Layla said. “Hold on.”

She reached into her purse, and pulled out a handful of bills.

“I don’t know if that’s enough,” she told the bellhop. “If I’m being chintzy, just let me know.”

“No, ma’am,” he looked at the money in his hands, “You’re not chintzy at all.

“Say, do you all come from California?”

“I’ve never even been to California,” Layla said.

“I was just wondering. Real generous and all.”

“Thanks,” Will said, “but we’re from Indiana. And that’s like…”

Layla took out her: This is England book and said, “That’s a hell of a lot like East Anglia from what I’ve read.”

The bellhop smiled and said, “Well, how’d you like that? They got East Anglia in America!”

“And Essex too,” Will said.

“Um,” murmured the bellhop. “Well, that’s too bad.”

After Will fell asleep, Layla decided she wanted to more than look out of the window on the night. When she’d first come to the hotel she wondered if it would be one of those white and gold affairs like she saw on television, but this place was clean and modern. She looked out of her window, and there was London. Unbelievable. That Bridge from the movies… Not the London Bridge, it was something else… Big Ben, the Ferris Wheel she didn’t understand. It was all waiting for her in the night.

“It’s almost New Year,” she realized, looking at the clock. She was still in Rossford time.

Layla slipped on some flats and took the little card key, deciding to see, if not the city, then the hotel. Hotels weren’t places she went, though now she remembered the first time she’d had sex with Will was in a hotel. This was a hotel of a different order, though, and the lobby was quietly classy. Well carpeted. When she came down into it, she walked around, came as far as the doors that led outside with the doormen in the vestibule between the entrance and the rest of London.

“You look lost,” an amused voice said, behind her.

Layla turned around.

“Or… bemused.”

She was a pretty woman, mid twenties, honey colored hair, blue eyes, just sitting on one of the sofas in the lobby, and Layla came toward her.

“I will be lost if I go out there,” she said, “and that’s a fact. And I am bemused.”

“Is this your first time in England?”

“How’d you know?” and then Layla covered her mouth and said, “Of course. I have an accent.”

She sat next to the woman and said, “This is my first time out of the U.S. Unless you count Canada.”

“You know for a minute I thought you were Canadian.”

“No.”

“Americans are morons when they get here…” she shook her head. Then she said, “Well that was shite of me.”

“No, it was honest of you,” Layla said. “And we’re not much better at home.”

“You know you get it from us?” she said. “We like to complain about Americans to feel European, but you guys… your hillybillies and what the not, you got them from us. Just get outside of London—or into it for that matter. You’ll see.”

She seemed about to say more, but just then the same bellhop who had brought their bags up came to her and touched his watch.

“Ah, thanks.”

The woman stood up and held out her hand to Layla.

“That means I have to run,” she said.

“Look, my name is Pam,” she said as Layla shook her hand, “and on New Year’s, right now, I say if you’re with someone you better go and get him and the two of you go up and down this street, up and down, plenty going on and you won’t get lost, and if you do get lost, what of it?

“Layla,” Layla said standing up. “I’m Layla Lawden, and I hope to meet you again.”

“I’m sure you will, love,” she said, kissing Layla on the cheek.

Then, gathering her coat under her arm, in her short black skirt, Pam went toward an open elevator, and it closed as she went up.

Layla waited for the next elevator, and when she was on it, it couldn’t get up to her floor fast enough. Back in their hotel room Layla launched herself across the bed.

“Will, get up! Get up, Will! It’s almost New Year.”

Will woke up with a long, unhappy groan that ended in, “Lay-la!”

“Wake up, Will,” she exhorted.

“There’s a conference in the morning.”         

“And they were stupid to set it on New Year’s Day. Wake up. You’re taking me out.”

Will rolled over and turned on the television where they were broadcasting the New Year’s Eve show.

“10–9–8–”

“See,” Will said, “We’re going to miss it anyway.”

“No we’re not. We’re here for—shush!”

“Happy New Year, Great Britain.”

“We haven’t missed it at all. And see, it won’t happen back in Indiana for another six hours… Five hours. So let’s get out and celebrate it.”

Shaggy haired, scruffy faced and only half awake, Will looked up at the woman who stood over him.

“I love you Layla Lawden.”

“Does that mean, we’re going out?”

Will nodded, yawned, and took his hands through his hair so that it stood up.

“It means bring me my shoes.”

Dinner was ending, and Maia reflected, “It seems like we’ve been eating all day.”

“Eating, drinking, praying, singing, eating again, a few old men sneaking out for a cigarette even though you’re not supposed to smoke on the Sabbath,” Lizzy shrugged. “All in all, a good way to spend Shabbos.”

“The meals tend to blend into each other,” Moshe said. “You know it’s alright to go away if you want to, take some time out for yourself.”

“I’ll remember that next time,” Maia said, but Laurel said, “I loved it. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Then you’ll just have to do it again,” Moshe said, grinning at her. “By the way, why’d you stick your tongue out at me?”

“Why did you smile at me?”

“That’s what friendly people do. I’m a friendly guy.”

The house was quieter now, and Laurel had the feeling that something important was about to happen.

“I still don’t know why you stuck your tongue out at me, though,” Moshe whispered.

The house was dark now. It had been darkening, and people were coming closer and closer to where the old rabbi stood at a table with a twisted candle and a cup of wine. It had already been spilled to overflowing and men were taking out flasks. These were the drinkin’est people she’d ever seen. Other people were going off to get drinks and Moshe smiled at her, then disappeared for a moment before bringing little cups to Maia and Laurel.

Laurel sniffed her cup, and was surprised by alcohol. When Moshe saw her reaction, he grinned, slipped a hand in his pocket, and turned away.

As the old rabbi began singing, they all picked the tune up. The sounds were beautiful. The words were so lovely that Laurel wished she had them in her hands to sing.

 

hinneh ’el yeshu‘ati ’evṭaḥ ṿelo’ ’efḥad

 ki ‘ozzi ṿezimrat yah Adonai ṿayhi

 li lishu‘a ushe’avtem mayim beśaśon

 mimma‘ayne hayshu‘a layya hayshu‘a

‘al ‘ammekha virkhatekha ssela Adonai

tseva’ot ‘immanu miśgav lanu ’elohe ya‘aḳov

 sela Adonai tseva’ot ’are ’adam boṭeaḥ

bakh Adonai hoshi‘a hammelekh ya‘anenu

 veyom ḳare’enu layehudim hayeta

’ora ṿeśimḥa ṿeśaśon ṿiḳar ken tihyeh

 llanu kos yeshu‘ot ’eśśa’ uveshem

 Adonai ’eḳra’

 

When they arrived at the close, Moshe leaned in and began whispering to her in English:

 

 "Blessed art thou, Hashem, our Lord, King of the Universe

Who distinguishes

Holiness from profanity,

Light from dark,

Israel from the nations,

The seventh day from the six workdays.

Blessed art thou, Hashem,

Who distinguishes holiness from profanity.”

 

He was so close his lips touched her ears, and when she looked at him he was grinning wolfishly.

“It’s only fair to warn you, I’m taken.”

“Omayn!” Everyone shouted, and Moshe shouted too, raising his empty glass.

He turned back, and smiling at her he said, “It’s only fair to to warn you; I don’t care.”

“We’re not even dressed,” Will protested, as Layla dragged him out of the elevator.

“The time to say that was when we were upstairs, but we’re here now.”

“Happy New Year, Miss Layla!” the bellhop shouted.

“Happy New Year to you,” Layla said, letting go of Will’s hand.

“You know what?” she told the bellhop.

“Miss Layla?”

“I don’t even know you’re name.”

“I’m Scott, Miss.”

“Just call me, Layla. Unless you just have to call me Miss. Where are you from, Scott?”

“East Hampton.”

“You know what?” she said. “I don’t know where that is. But I bet you don’t know where Rossford, Indiana is either.”

“No—”

“Well the important thing is this,” Layla interrupted him.

She grabbed Scott the bellhop’s face, pulled it to her, and kissed him.

“You’ve just been kissed by a Black woman from Indiana. Happy New Year, Scott.”

Before Scott could say anything else, while both he and Will were looking at her in amazement, she pulled Will out of the lobby and into the night, saluting the doormen as she went out.

“Oh, my God, catch that air!” she cried. “It’s London. This is New Year’s energy.”

Out in the street people passing, shouted “Happy New Year!” and she shouted back at them.

“Layla,” Will said as he tripped while she dragged him down the street.

“Yeah, Babe?”

“You know what?” Will thought about it. “Nevermind. Just show me a good time. In fact… let’s take the Tube.”

They had to find the Underground and then, descending, Layla whispered as Will wrapped his arm around her waist, “This is just like Chicago.”

“A little cleaner, though.”

“I’m trying to show loyalty.”

When the train came by they got on. As they buzzed under the city, Layla watched the lights shoot by in the Underground, and looked at her fellow travelers. After a few stops, Will said, “This is us,” and they emerged into blaring lights and trawling buses.

“Will, where are we?” she said as, now, he pulled her along.

“I don’t know,” he told her.

“What?”

Will turned around.

“I—don’t—know.”

“But you looked so confident.”

“I am confident.”

“I meant about where we were going.”

“I know where we’re going,” Will said, taking her by her shoulders and turning her toward the direction of a public house.

“And I am confident that with you I’m always going to have a good time!”