The Families in Rossford

“I CAN’T GET ENOUGH of Liam,” Margaret Klasko declared. “Adele said the same thing.”

“Good,” Layla told her with a smile, “because he’s likely to be the only grandchild either one of you will have. Don’t get to used to the British accent, though. That’s subject to change.”

They sat down together on the sofa, looking across the street to Kirk and Paul’s house. “I just wonder if I’ll be able to measure up to being a mother is all.”

“Look, Layla,” Will’s mother said. “Mothers are just women who had children. And you chose to have a child. You got up and looked at this child and said you wanted to be his mother. You didn’t just wake up knocked up and decide to make the best of. That says a lot about you, so don’t you worry.”

Layla nodded and Margaret touched her knee.

“I’ve always considered you a daughter, and now you really will be. I was alright with whatever you and Will chose to do, but I’m so glad you all are going to be married now. You’re still staying in this house?”

“Yes, I think.”

“Good,” Margaret said. “What about the wedding? Do you know when it will be?”

“It’ll have to be soon.”

“At Saint Barbara’s?”

Layla sighed.

“To tell you the truth, I don’t think so. I’m not really big on having a Catholic wedding. I haven’t been to church in forever. And then with Todd and Maia going to synagogue—”

Margaret fixed her with a look.

“Yes?”

“Layla, would you and Will like to have a Jewish wedding?”

“Yeah,” Layla discovered. “I think I would. I don’t know how Will would feel—”

“He’ll love it! I never had one. I wish I had.”

“I don’t know that he will love it, Marge. He’s only been in a synagogue three times, and Sheridan hasn’t been in one at all. I think he pretty much forgot he was Jewish.”

“I forgot too,” Margaret admitted. “But it came back to me, and it could come to him.”

“I’m game for anything. I’ll see.”

“He’ll like it,” Margaret told her. “I’ll make him like it.”

---

NINE

THE LAW OF LOVE

Layla already knew she didn’t like the rabbi. She had actually never met him, though she had, of course, been to the synagogue for High Holidays on the occasions when Will and his mother went. She remembered once Sheridan had tagged along, and on their way out, the pale, freckled, blue eyed boy with light brown hair had looked at the crowd of mostly swarthy dark haired, mostly myopic people, talking about things he did not understand and said, “This shit is not me.”

Now Layla sat in front of a lugubrious, swarthy, dark haired man who said, “I don’t perform mixed marriages.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” she started up.

Will put a hand on hers.

“It’s not about us being black and white,” he said.

The rabbi looked at her startled and said, “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

Layla didn’t necessarily believe that, but the rabbi continued, “I will not marry a Jew to a non Jew.”

Layla nodded and rose while Will was still thinking of this.

“Thank you for your time,” she said.

“Layla!” Will began.

“What?” she said.

“You are Jewish. I am not. You’re Methodist too. We can get married there. Or in a courthouse.”

“Or you could become Jewish,” the rabbi said.

Layla looked at him.

“You,” the rabbi repeated, “could convert, could promise to raise your children as Jews, live as a Jew.”

At the look on Layla’s face, Will said, “Would that be such a bad thing?”

“It would be a hypocritical thing,” Layla said. “Seeing as neither one of us ever sets foot in a house of worship.”

“But you believe in God,” Will said. “I mean, I believe in God too. And you read a Bible. I know you pray. How do you know that maybe what we shouldn’t be doing is going to a synagogue instead of a church?”

“I don’t,” she said. “But I know I’m not going to promise to raise my children as something I don’t even do myself.

“I’ll see you in the car,” Layla told Will, and putting her purse over her shoulder, she left the office, threading through the lobby to head out the door of Beni Y’isroel.

When Will finally came out to the car, he said, “The rabbi was willing to work with us.”

“I’m not willing to work with him,” Layla said. “I don’t like him. I’m at the age where I don’t have to justify my feelings to myself. When someone comes at me like that, I don’t want anything to do with him.” She muttered to herself, “I don’t do mixed marriages.”

“Well, can’t we think about it?”

“And why is it so important to you, anyway?” Layla demanded. “When have you ever cared about synagogues or having a Jewish life or any of that? And what about Liam? I’ve never seen the boy’s business, but… is he… you know?”

“No, I don’t.”

“In England they don’t… well, they do. But not everyone. Is he…?”

“Is he what?”

“Holy shit! Is he circumcised?”

“Ohhhh!” Will said, late to the game. “I didn’t even think… Well, that’s not the issue. It’s just us getting married.”

“It’s just that random silly Jew trying to bribe us into making our children more Jews. And last I checked, that involves circumcision.”

“Well…” Will thought, “I could check.”

“That really wasn’t where I was going.”

“I know,” Will said. “How ‘bout we get out of the parking lot before continuing this discussion?”

Layla said nothing while Will pulled out of the lot in front of Bnai Y’isroel and turned onto Birmingham Street.

“Talk to Todd about it,” Will said. “Just… promise me you’ll talk to Todd.”

Layla looked at Will and said, “My God!”

“What?” Will turned from her to look at the street.

“You really want this, don’t you? You really want us to have a Jewish wedding.”

“Yes,” Will said. “I do.”

Maia shut her locker and screamed.

“Good to see you too,” Bennett said.

“What are you—” she stopped. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s my lunch, I thought I’d come over. Actually, Dylan’s over at Rossford, so I borrowed his car. Wanna have lunch?”

“Bennett, I have class in fifteen minutes.”

“You could skip it.”

“No,” Maia said. “No, I could not. I mean, I know I look all carefree and shit, but I’m not big on missing school.”

“Fine,” Bennett said, drawing it out. “Suit… yourself.”

Bennett began walking down the hall, toward his car, very slowly, and Maia sighed and then said, “Oh, hell, let’s go!”

Bennett turned around and, grinning, he held out his hand to her. As she ran down the hall, Laurel stuck her head out of the classroom and said, “Where are you going?”

Maia stopped and caught her cousin’s hand.

“I’ll tell you where I’m not going,” she said. “I’m not going to class.”

She beamed, released Laurel’s hand, and then ran down the hall, and out of the door with Bennett Anderson.

Dylan Mesda was standing on Demming Street in front of Rossford High school, and Elias was watching him fume.

“He’s not late yet,” Elias reminded him.

“I should never have loaned your brother my car.”

Elias was about to say something, but it was replaced by: “Oh yuck.”

“Wha?” Dylan turned in the direction of three girls walking in the mid February afternoon toward them.

“Elias,” Maggie said, “where’s Bennett?”

“Hello to you, too,” Elias said to her.

“I’ve forgotten my manners,” Maggie apologized.

“See, I didn’t even know you had them.”

“That’s cute,” Maggie even gave a spiteful little laugh to prove how cute it was.

“I am Maggie Biggs,” she held out her hand and, it seemed to Dylan, somehow her cleavage, “and these are my friends Maris and Lindsay.”

Lindsay gave a small smile and waving at Dylan said, “I’m waiting for Bennett too.”

“He’s with his girlfriend,” Elias placed a strong emphasis on the word.

“Oh,” Maris said.

Just now, Dylan’s car came from downtown, making a right turn and racing toward them to a sudden stop.

“What the fuck, Bennett!” Dylan demanded, coming toward the car before saying, “Maia!”

“You all know each other?” Maggie said.

“Maia is Dylan’s stepsister. Sort of,” Elias said. “And you’ve seen her, she’s my brother’s girlfriend.”

Maris opened her mouth, but Maggie gave a half smile Elias didn’t trust, and touching Maris’s shoulder she said, “I think we should leave, now.”

Bennett, in trouble with Dylan, had just noticed the three girls and that one of them was Maris.

He opened his mouth, but Maggie said, “We need to get to class. You should probably come too.”

On their way up the walk, Maris said, “I didn’t really see her coming into the picture.”

“We’re going to have to find another plan,” Lindsay said.

“Fuck that!” Maggie shook her head.

“Look!” she said, turning around and looking down the path to where the Anderson brothers, and Dylan and Maia, were talking,while Dylan and Elias kept looking back at them.

 “I’ve got nothing against that girl. She’s pretty. Hell, I wish I had some Black in me. She’s probably very nice, but she’s in the way and, well,” Maggie decided as she opened the door and they walked back into the school, “if we didn’t see her in the original picture, then it looks like we’re going to have to just push her the fuck out of it.”

Meanwhile, before the car, Bennett said, “Dylan, can I please, please, please, keep it this afternoon if I drive you back to school?”

“Keep it for what?”

“Keep it for taking me out!” Maia said.

Dylan frowned.

“I don’t like the idea of you all riding around, skipping school,” he added, “in my car.”

Elias touched his side though, and Dylan looked at him.

“I think you should,” Elias said. “Just make sure he’s got it back by the end of school.”

“Fine,” Dylan said, trying to look rough, but smiling at Elias.

“But you have to promise,” Dylan told him, “to pick Elias up and bring him to Saint Barbara’s with you when you come.”

Bennett jumped up and hugged Dylan.

“Thanks, man.”

“Thanks, big brother,” Maia said from the car, and put on her shades.