Naomi, The Rabbi's Wife by Miriam Finesilver

Author:Miriam Finesilver [Finesilver, Miriam]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: General Fiction
ISBN: 9781498441636
Publisher: Xulon Press
Published: 2015-07-12T04:00:00+00:00

Travelling to Aunt Luba’s apartment took Naomi deeper into the heart of Brooklyn—Flatbush Avenue. “I hope I’m not late,” Naomi told Daniel when he opened the door for her.

With one hand he held up a finger and with the other pointed to his mouth which was obviously full of food. His head turned to show her a large platter of antipasto.

Looking around the room, Naomi felt she was back at Sylvia’s. Rose colored walls, mahogany wood tables, and the smell of—could it be?—chicken parmesan?

Naomi did notice one major difference in Luba’s home. Rather than family portraits gracing the walls, one wall showcased Marc Chagall prints and another wall displayed what appeared to be original artwork. Naomi’s impression was that these were works in progress.

After a large swallow, Daniel said, “A little bit late, but don’t worry.” Daniel kissed her cheek. “My aunt is potchking around the kitchen. You’re her special guest. She’s probably been in the kitchen since yesterday getting this dinner together. You better be good and hungry.”

He bent down over the platter of antipasto, picked up a large chunk of cheese and put it in front of Naomi’s mouth. “Here have some cheese. There’s also some artichoke hearts. They’re my personal favorite.”

She opened her mouth and accepted the provolone cheese. I better make a personal note—keep artichoke hearts stocked in my future kitchen.

While potchking in her kitchen, Naomi and Daniel could hear Luba singing. Beltz, Mayn Shtetle.

“Sounds almost like Klezmer music,” Naomi observed. Since a child, Naomi had always been drawn to this distinctive musical style. Something about the sounds made her feel a part of the old Eastern European world of her ancestors.

“You like Klezmer?”

“It’s a fun sound.”

“We got a date! There’s a Klezmer band playing in the city next week.” After another artichoke heart, Daniel commented, “You’re not eating. You want something else. I can ask—”

Naomi jumped in quickly. “No, I’m fine.” How am I going to eat any more today? She sniffed the air and asked, “Daniel, do I smell chicken parmesan?”

“How’d you know? With spaghetti and . . . ? C’mon guess. What else do you smell?”

“Garlic?”

He nodded. “Garlic bread. My aunt has a new Italian boyfriend she wants to impress. So, how was your time with Sylvia?”

“She’s wonderful, Daniel. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Well, just in case you kinda prompted her to call me, I’m glad you did.” On her train ride to Flatbush, Naomi had contemplated the woman’s advice, and now plunged in. “Daniel, why don’t we ask Dana and Ed to join us at the Klezmer concert?”

“Are you—”

Luba came waltzing out of the kitchen and asked, “Smell gut? Come, children.”

Daniel and Naomi followed her into the dining room and were surprised by the formality of the table setting. Two lit candles sat in an elegant pair of crystal holders, a vase filled with pink roses was between the candles, and the table had been set with the finest Wedgewood formal dinnerware.

Daniel hugged his aunt. “You didn’t need to do all this for us.”

“Danielek, not for you, for Berto.

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