"What does your father say? From what I know, he's not all that religious himself."
I look out the window, fighting the urge to argue with her. Converting to Judaism is something I feel strongly about. It has nothing to do with my dad or my mom. It has everything to do with me. To argue and try to make her see my side is pointless. My mom has her own opinions about organized religion and I don't share her view.
When Sofia gave me a Jewish star pendant, I felt something I'd never felt before. A connection to people I had previously not acknowledged. And when I climbed Masada, it really hit me. My dad is Jewish, so half of me is Jewish. To ignore it suddenly felt like it would be dissing a part of who I am. I admit, learning about Judaism and reading the Tanakh (that would be the Torah and learning about the numerous Prophets) isn't easy. And, to be honest, I don't totally agree with or understand the Torah.
Rabbi Glassman encourages discussion, even disagreements. Which is great, because I'm disagreeable by nature. I question everything, like why Abraham really was going to kill his son. And it's obvious men wrote the Bible (it's a bit male-centered if I do say so myself.) But did the stories actually happen or were they made up? "Dad supports me."
"But can't they consider you Jewish because your father is? It's seems silly to have you go through months of classes--"
"They're not making me do it, Mom." She just doesn't get it. Or maybe she doesn't want to get it. "I don't have to convert. I want to convert. Just...leave it alone, okay?"
Mom shrugs. "Okay, okay. I just want you to be happy."
"Then stop nagging me about religion. Nag me about something else instead."
Looking at me sideways, my mom smiles. Oops, I should never have said that. Because...you guessed it, she takes me to Sally's Intimate Boutique on the other side of town to get me fitted for bras.
Mom drives me back to the condo in the city after the bra run. I kiss her goodbye, get out of the car, and attempt to hide the girly pink bag under my arm. It's gotten so cold I pull my coat tight around me, but catch sight of Nathan standing on the curb with a bouquet of yellow tulips in his hand.
I'm still watching Nathan as my mom drives off. When the public bus heading to Evanston stops at the corner, Nathan gets on without a backward glance.
Hmm.
I wonder if he's going to see Binky...I mean Bicky. Not that I believe he's actually dating that girl in the picture in his room.
I still haven't figured him out. Why is he staying at his aunt and uncle's house? If it's not temporary, why is he still living out of his suitcase? If it's not temporary, why is he going to my school? The whole thing doesn't add up.
Shaking thoughts of Nathan from my head, I run up to my condo before my dad gets home. Hurriedly, I check my dad's still-open PJSN account. The only problem is he'll kill me if I set him up on another date. I have to come up with another scheme, something creative.
I've heard about speed dating, where a person goes on a bunch of three-minute dates in one night. Hmm... maybe I can convince Maria to host one of them at Perk Me Up! one night. I must admit I have the best ideas.
My dad walks in the door just as I'm closing out the PJSN account. He asks me about my weekend without him. I ask him about his trip. We eat dinner together while playing shesh besh, which is Hebrew for backgammon. It's something we both like to play. We even have a little rivalry going on.
I answer the phone when it rings after dinner, knowing before I even check the caller ID that it's Jessica. "I need best friend advice," Jess says.
"Me, too. I need to know what I should wear tonight." I mean, I haven't been to a youth group meeting in...well, never.
"I thought you were going to wear your Fuego jeans and that heather-gray top you got last week at Saks."
I lay down on my bed in frustration, petting Mutt who just jumped on my stomach and almost knocked the wind out of me. "I was, but decided against it. I was thinking about wearing my long print skirt and a plain white shirt."
There's a big huff on the other end of the line. "Amy, you don't have to dress religious for the group."
"Come over and help me pick something to wear tonight. Please? I'll do your makeup for you and listen to your Mitch problems at the same time."
Jessica loves when I do her makeup. She will absolutely come over. I know her weakness is the two Ms--Mitch and makeup. For the double Ms, she'll go through the torture of finding a parking spot on the overcrowded Chicago streets.
"Um...I'm picking up Miranda Cohen first," Jess says.
"Miranda Cohen?" I ask. "The girl who hyperventilated when we ran the mile in gym last year?" Poor Miranda. The Diet Coke she drinks just doesn't erase the other crap from her system.
"Miranda's in the youth group."
So? I'm not best friends with Miranda, but I'd rather hang with her than Roxanne. "Jess, I need your help. Bring Miranda."
"I don't want to talk about Mitch in front of her, Amy."
"Okay, so here's my advice on the boyfriend front. Give Mitch some space and let him come after you. Ignore him for a bit. He thrives on challenges, Jess, and maybe you're too accessible."
"But--"
"But nothing. Listen to me. I know what I'm talking about. I dated him, too. Remember?"
"Yeah, I remember."
"So, are you coming over now or what?"