Chapter 13 Nothing But the Truth

"Did the Rosenberg's cousin call you?" Leah's mother asked on the phone. Leah was sitting in her room alone that evening, watching Netflix on her laptop instead of on the TV in the living room. It was just easier to hide away in her room. "If he didn't, I'll ask Judy what's going on. He seems like a really nice guy."

Leah wondered how he could seem like a really nice guy. She was sure her mom only knew four things about him: he was related to the Rosenbergs. He lived in New York. He was Jewish. He worked in business. He had in fact called Leah. She'd accidentally answered because she hadn't recognized the number. He politely introduced himself.

"I know this is like so awkward," he had said on the phone. "But you know how Jewish moms are. Mine will never stop until I prove to her that we went out. I'll have to text her a picture of the receipt. So how about it? Drinks tomorrow?"

Such a romantic proposition! Leah sarcastically thought. Like he was only asking her out as a favor to his mom! It was insulting. So insulting that even if Leah had been single, she would have said no. Probably would have said no. "I'm actually seeing somebody, so it's not going to work out." As soon as she said it she knew it was a mistake. He would surely tell his mom to get her off his back. His mom would tell her sister Judy Rosenberg who went to Leah's family's synagogue. Judy would wonder why Leah's mom would be handing out Leah's number when she was in a relationship and subsequently, Leah's mom would know about her boyfriend.

"Ummmm," Leah wondered how to answer her mom. Did her mom already know the whole story? Was she trying to see if Leah would tell the truth? Was it worth it trying to lie? She heard the door of her apartment open and her roommate step inside. She could hear the thump of the floor as she walked the two steps from the door to the kitchen. The fridge door opened.

"Oh, honey, just stop." Yup, she knew. "I know he called and you told him you have a boyfriend. Why would you say something like that? He could have been the one!"

"He's not the one, Mom!" Leah rolled her eyes as she said it. "Just because he is Jewish doesn't mean anything for if we're compatible."

"Actually it does, but you'll never know if you won't meet him. Why don't you call him back? Say you changed your mind. Or you broke up with your imaginary boyfriend, or—"

"He's not imaginary." Leah accidentally blurted. Slam ! The fridge door swung close and the free magnets they had accumulated rattled.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, you said something. What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"You said he's not imaginary."

"If you heard me, why did you ask?" Leah's roommate continued to stomp around. A plate clinked on the counter. The silverware drawer vroomed open and crashed shut.

"Because I want you to be clear with me! What's going on? Are you seeing someone?"

There was no backing out now. She had to tell her mom. She'd have to tell her eventually. Well, only if it lasted more than a few months. Her mom would continue pestering her about dates, wondering why she wasn't seeing anyone. Contemplating if she were a lesbian—which wouldn't be so terrible if the other woman was Jewish! You know we have a lesbian couple at the synagogue! They have an adorable baby. Not sure which is the real mom or who the dad is, but she is really cute, even though her moms are lesbians.

Rather than hear about the token synagogue lesbians yet again, Leah decided to bite the bullet. "I'm actually dating someone. He's really sweet and smart, and such a gentleman. "

"That's so wonderful!" Leah could hear her mother's heart pounding. She could see the images of a Chuppah, a bris, and a bar mitzvah already rolling through her mother's mind. "Where did you meet him? What does he do?"

Leah recounted how she first met him on the Subway—he basically saved her life—and how they ran into each other later that evening when she was out with Maya—who her mother already knew plenty about. She mentioned how he worked near her and took her to happy hour and dates and since they were basically neighbors, he always walked her home. "You'd really like him, Mom." She hoped she was convincing enough, especially since she didn't mention the one detail her mom cared about.

"I'm so excited for you! Why don't you bring him over for Thanksgiving? You know Shira is coming home for the holiday. We just bought her a plane ticket because she said she couldn't afford one on her own. Not sure what's going on with her job. I'm sure Shira would love to meet him while she is here! What do you think?"

"Ummmm, I'm not sure, Mom."

"Well, why not?" The accusatory tone was not lost on Leah. She knew her mother was now wondering whether Leah was embarrassed about her or her cooking. Or maybe Leah wasn't planning on coming home for Thanksgiving at all .

"Well, what if he wants to do Thanksgiving with his family?"

"Well, that's ridiculous. If you're a couple, you do holidays together. And if he is such a gentleman, he'll do the first one with your family. So you're bringing him? I promise we'll make it extra special. I can even tell the synagogue that we have no extra space this year so there won't be any, what did you and Shira call them? Randos at dinner."

Leah's mom had an open-door policy for holidays. Anyone from the synagogue who didn't have a family to spend a holiday with was welcome, which often meant their house was full of a ragtag of different guests. There was a newly divorced obese man who had just moved to the area at Passover. A single mom whose 18-year-old daughter refused to come home for Rosh Hashana. An elderly woman who had just lost her husband and didn't live close enough to her child to get an invite for Hanukkah.

"Fine."

"Oh, I'm so excited! Don't worry, we'll go all out this year. We can even use your grandmother's china, which I usually hate because it doesn't go in the dishwasher, but it is just so beautiful."

Leah heard her roommate's door creak and groan as it hit the frame. "Sounds good, Mom. Anything else?"

"Oh, well, you know how it is…" Her mom started talking about that week's Adult Ed ucation class at the synagogue, which focused on Israeli art and its connections to politics…Leah thought about what to eat for dinner. She had some stuff to make sandwiches in the fridge. Maybe there were some frozen meals left? She couldn't remember because she rarely ate at home. She was constantly out buying lunch and having dinner with Gabe or Maya, or even just picking up takeout if she were on her own. Grocery shopping just wasn't something New Yorkers did frequently she was learning. "And we had a book club meeting last week. It was another Holocaust book. It was good, I mean if you can say Holocaust stories are good, but you know, they are all so depressing. Why can't the club choose something more upbeat?" Her mom continued discussing her weekly activities. Leah responded with yeahs and uh-huhs when necessary and when her mom finished, she politely said she had to go. Her stomach was grumbling and she wanted to eat something before her roommate emerged from her room.

She hung up the phone and quietly opened the door of her bedroom. She could see across the small kitchen and living area that her roommate's door was closed and she could hear the faint rumbling of voices from inside. She too was probably watching something on her laptop rather than using their shared TV. Leah gently pulled the fridge door open to scan whether she had anything to eat. There was some bread. Some cheese. Tomatoes. Grilled cheese, she thought, and got a pan out to heat on the stove. She heard her phone buzz.

What are you doing? It was a text from Gabe. They had been texting constantly every day. They told each other everything that happened. She told Gabe when her boss Tony began a rant about why pretzels were the death of snacks (because they were so good and ruined everything else) and when Malcolm came to work with a wilted carnation in his shirt pocket (do you think he didn't go home last night?). Gabe told her about meetings and reports and office politics that he hated dealing with. But she hadn't texted him after work. She knew he was tired—he'd been up all night finishing a book—and that he had planned on going to sleep early. So his text surprised her.

Making grilled cheese. Want one? She was half hoping he'd suggest something else, like Chinese food, or the deli around the corner. But his response was: I love grilled cheese! Be at your place in 10?

She gave a thumbs up and started scrounging the fridge to see if there was anything else to make the meal a little less pathetic. There was some old lettuce. Some grapes. The grilled cheese would have to do. When the sandwiches were frying in the pan, the door knocked. As she went to answer it, her roommate's door swung open. The two girls stopped and stared at each other as though both were completely surprised to see the other one. As though they hadn't been living together for a couple of months already. "I'm expecting someone," her roommate said and she bolted to the door in her pajamas before Leah could mention that she too was expecting someone. The door swung open, and her roommate stood there as though she had just opened the door to Frankenstein. "What are you doing here?"

Leah saw it was Gabe. "That's my roommate," she called over at the same time as her roommate's question. When she realized what was asked, she stopped. "Do you know each other?" Gabe seemed paralyzed in the doorway.

"Yeah, uh, I dated Marissa's friend a while back," Gabe answered. "Just a few dates." He smiled at Marissa—the roommate. "Can I come in? I'm here for Leah." Marissa didn't step aside, but she let him pass. "Smells good in here." He mentioned when he kissed Leah on the lips and looked at the stove. Leah flipped the sandwiches before they could burn.

Marissa stormed back into her room and shut the door. "That was awkward," Leah noted, hoping her comment would elicit further explanation.

"Yeah, what a small world New York is." He raised his arm showing he'd brought something with him. "You said grilled cheese, so I brought tomato soup and salad." He placed the bag on the small kitchen table .

"You're amazing!" Leah blushed and she kissed her boyfriend.

"Well, taste the soup first before you decide that. I got it from that bodega that just opened on 98 th . Not sure how it stands up for bodega soup."

Leah pulled out bowls and plates and set the small table. She almost never ate at their kitchen table. When she did eat at home, it was usually on her bed to avoid being in common spaces. But she and Gabe couldn't very well eat soup on her bed. And besides, why couldn't she use the common area? She was paying half the rent.

They sat with their grilled cheese and soup. It felt so natural to Leah, like they were an old married couple who didn't need romance and fancy restaurants to prove the strength of their relationship. It was so perfect and she could imagine having dinner like that every night for the rest of her life.

A few moments later, there was another knock on the door. Marissa stormed from her bedroom, this time wearing jeans, a coat, and even some makeup, and opened the door. Leah heard hushed whispers as Marissa closed the door behind her without saying goodbye. Leah wondered if it was the friend that Gabe had dated. She wanted to ask more about that, but was it too early? Were they ready to go over their relationship histories? She wasn't upset that he had one. Everyone had exes. She had one. But was his too close to home? Literally?

She didn't mention it, and neither did Gabe, who pretended like he didn't even notice Marissa walk past them. They finished dinner and washed the dishes together, which Leah thought was a true marker of real romance.

They kissed and snuggled in her bedroom and then she remembered she had something to ask him. "Will you come spend Thanksgiving with my family? I know you probably have a dinner with your family, but my mom really wants to meet you and she sort of insists that you come."

"Sure, but on one condition."

"What?" she expected him to request that she prepare her family to avoid awkward subjects or that she owed him a back massage or something like that.

"Christmas with my family."

"Oh, that won't be a problem." She almost laughed. Her family pretended that Christmas didn't exist. During the season, they walked around as though they didn't see the lights on the neighbors' houses. If they saw a Santa outside asking for donations, they pretended they couldn't hear him. When someone said, Merry Christmas! They responded with Happy Holidays . They didn't watch Christmas movies, didn't cook a special dinner, didn't even acknowledge the day was any different .

That night, they made perfectly good love. In the morning, he got up early and kissed her goodbye so he could go back to his apartment before work.

Not long after, she got up, got dressed, and was ready to leave for work. As she walked through the living room, she noticed a ripped piece of paper balanced on the door handle. I'd be careful if I were you, it said in scratchy handwriting that Leah didn't recognize. She looked around as though for a clue of who wrote it. Marissa? Gabe? The friend?

But she was alone. She shuddered as she stuffed the note in her purse.