The Law of Attraction
Page 45

“I’ll let you two get settled. Come down whenever you’re ready.”
“Okay Dad.” I turned to Braden. “We’ll go out for dinner tomorrow.”
“I’m happy to eat in. This is your Sabbath dinner, right?”
“Yeah, but we’re not super religious. We light candles and break bread and drink wine but we’re not going to cart you off to a synagogue or anything.”
“I think it’s interesting! I’ve had dinner on Friday nights with Adam’s family before.”
“You have? Well, that’s great. But I should warn you, we’re more like The Addams family.”
“Stop worrying! My great-uncle Leland thinks he’s still in the army even though he’s seventy-eight.” Braden came over and stood behind me, circling my waist with his arms. “I think your parents are great. I see where you get your sense of humor.”
“I’m glad you like them.” I smiled. He leaned down and kissed my neck.
“I missed you last night,” he whispered. “I’m glad we can sleep together tonight.”
“Me too.” I turned around and pulled his mouth to mine for a deep and tender kiss. After a few moments though I pulled back.
“The peanut gallery will be here soon. We should save this for later. We’ll probably need to comfort each other after they leave anyway.”
“Okay,” he said, tucking my hair behind my ear gently. As if on cue I heard the doorbell. I tensed up. It was time. I tried to remember my mother’s words. It was best to get it over with quickly.
CHAPTER TWENTY
We walked downstairs and first I saw my Aunt Ruth and my Uncle Ira. Ruth came over to me and clutching me to her ample bosom, said in the most nasal voice and the heaviest Queens (and I don’t mean the British kind) accent most people have ever heard, “Gabrielle! How awre you?”
“I’m great, Aunt Ruth. How are you?”
“Fabulous! Simply fabulous! You look amazing! Look Ira! Doesn’t Gabrielle look amazing?”
“You look amazing, Gabrielle. You lost some weight huh?”
“Nah, not really. I just walk a lot, so I’m kind of like more toned, you know? Uh, let me introduce you. This is my boyfriend Braden. Braden, this is my Aunt Ruth and my Uncle Ira.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Braden said, sounding wonderfully cultured. It wasn’t hard to sound wonderfully cultured next to my Aunt Ruth though.
“Oh my gawd!” Ruth screeched. ”Gabrielle brought a guy home! And he’s so good-looking!” I wanted to crawl under the couch and hide.
“Well, that’s a first!” Ira added. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Braden! We were starting to wonder if maybe Gabby was g*y, you know?” He chuckled. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that! I know lots of g*y people!” Ruth chimed in. “My hair stylist is g*y and he’s a lovely person!” She seemed to be apologetically explaining this to me for some reason.
“Where’s Rachel?” I asked, before Ruth could name every g*y person she knew.
“She and Bubbe are still outside. They’re having a little disagreement and I asked them to resolve it before they came in,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Maybe we should check on them,” my mom said. Yeah, no kidding. They could be out there all night. On the other hand… My mom went out front.
“Ben!” Ira said. “How’s the world of big business?”
“Great, Ira! How’s the dry-cleaning business?”
“Wonderful! We’re the ones who keep your guys lookin’ good!” My dad chuckled like Ira hadn’t said that every time that he had seen him for the past thirty years.
“And what do you do, Braden?” Ira asked.
“I’m an assistant district attorney.” He smiled.
“Another lawyer! Well, good for you, Gabby! You found one with a good job. We were worried you might get desperate enough to start dating your clients. So when are you getting married?” I wanted to drink bleach.
“Uh, well, we haven’t been dating that long yet, Uncle Ira.”
“Well, Gabby, you’re not getting any younger and I don’t think you want to let this one go, you know what I’m saying, kiddo?” he said in a quiet voice, like he was sharing privileged information with me.
“Ira, why don’t you come with me for a minute while I check on dinner?” My dad jumped in quickly. “I want to hear everything that’s going on in the dry cleaning world.” Dad was such a great guy. He was totally taking one for the team. Ira followed him to the kitchen, talking serious dry cleaning talk. The front door swung open and my mother came in looking stressed. She plastered a big smile on her face anyway. She was pretty great too. My parents were really going to the mat for me.
“Gabrielle, sweetheart, look, your cousin Rachel’s here!” Rachel, my thirty-two-year-old cougar cousin with the big hair, the expensive manicure and the Jimmy Choos came over and hugged me.
“Gabrielle, you look great!”
“So, do you Rach! This is my boyfriend, Braden.”
“What a pleasure,” she smiled. Then she turned to me and said loud enough for everyone to hear, “Wow, very hot. Is he built to scale?” My eyes widened. Braden coughed to cover a surprised laugh. And then I heard it, coming in the door, the voice of my childhood nightmares.
“Gabrielle! Dahling! Is that you?”
“Bubbe! Yes it’s me.” My grandmother, all four foot eleven inches of her, shuffled in, leaning on her cane. The cane was a prop, of course; she could sprint a city block when she needed to.
“I almost didn’t recognize you. Probably because you never visit me. I wouldn’t know your voice because you never call me either. Would it kill you to call once in a while? Maybe you could even write a letter if you were feeling particularly generous.”
“I’m sorry, Bubbe.” She made it to the front of the crowd and squinted up at Braden. She also had twenty/twenty vision incidentally. “Who’s the Viking?”
“This is my boyfriend, Braden, Bubbe.”
“Your boyfriend? We thought you were g*y. Does he have a job?”
“He’s a lawyer.”
“A lawyer who makes money or a lawyer like you?”
“He’s a prosecutor.”
“So, a lawyer like you but on the right side.” She squinted again. “He doesn’t look Jewish.”