Wonder of Wonders
Abbey wandered into Jed's childhood bedroom and flopped down on the bed. Jed was sitting in his old armchair in the corner and looked up at her. "Can I help you?" he asked.
She sighed. "I need a break."
"You're on a break. We're at my parents' house. You don't have to go to class for another five days. My mother is very happily watching Liz. So what would you like to do?"
She rolled over and propped herself up on her elbows and furrowed her brow at him. "I need a real break. Where I don't have to talk or worry for a couple hours."
Jed considered that statement. She probably did need a real break from things. He didn't know how his wife was doing it. Abbey was nearly done with her first semester of medical school, and he was shocked she wasn't losing her mind. She woke extremely early to take the train to Harvard for class and studied during every moment she could find while away from home so that she could be with their daughter when she returned home each evening. She still cooked dinner a few times a week, when Jed had late classes at Dartmouth. He tried to help her as much as he could, but she was such a capable and independent person that there wasn't much she'd let him do. She always said she'd take care of it. And she did. And now they were spending Thanksgiving with his parents, so Abbey wouldn't have to worry about trying to cook a whole holiday meal. It was their first Thanksgiving in the States as a family; they'd been in London since their honeymoon and had only gone home for Christmas each year.
Yes, Abbey both needed and deserved a break. "How about we go to the movies? Just you and me?" he suggested, closing his book and placing it on the side table.
Abby shrugged. "I have no idea what's playing at theaters around here. But that does sound nice."
"Let me go check the newspaper." He stood to go downstairs. As he walked past her, he paused to gently caress her cheek with his fingertips. She turned her head to kiss his passing hand. They shared a simple smile, and Jed went off on his search for a movie for them to see.
Abbey rolled over onto her back and stretched her arms out behind her, tangling her hands in her hair. She was exhausted all the time and stressed out of her mind, but she smiled to herself. Things were so good. She was back in school, a place where she'd always felt comfortable and capable, learning the knowledge and skills that would eventually give her the career she'd dreamed of her entire life. She had a brilliant and beautiful daughter who was the most perfect handful she could have ever imagined. And she had Jed. Jed, who she'd loved from the moment she met him, who she'd love till the day she died. Everything she had or ever would have was all thanks to him.
Jed returned to the room with the newspaper and found her smiling at the ceiling. "What're you so happy about?" he asked, catching her infectious grin.
Abbey sat up. "Oh, just thinking about how much I love you."
He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her. "Always nice for a husband to hear."
She hummed against his lips, kissing him again. "Maybe we don't need to go to the movies."
"Well now I want to go," he replied, sitting up and scooting a safe distance away from her. He opened the paper up to the local entertainment page. "Alright, so here's what we got: The French Connection…"
"We've already seen that."
"Something called The Velvet Vampire…"
Abbey rolled her eyes. "I think not."
"Play Misty for Me?"
"That's the one with Clint Eastwood, right?"
"Yeah, so I guess we'll skip that," Jed replied, knowing his wife's irrational distaste for the actor. "How about The Last Picture Show?"
"Oh yeah, I wanted to see that. What time is it playing?"
Jed glanced at his watch and scanned the listing. "Looks like it's starting in about half an hour. If we leave now, we can get our tickets and be seated just in time."
Abbey grinned and got up. Jed took that as a sign that they'd be going to the movies. They made sure that Jed's mother could watch Liz for a few hours, and they were in the car in three minutes.
When they arrived at the theater, they were told that they were mistaken about the times. "What do you mean? I checked the paper!" Jed protested.
The teenager at the ticket counter looked far too bored to care. "Are you sure you had today's paper? Or that you didn't mix up the lines? I don't know. But Fiddler on the Roof is starting in ten minutes, if you'd like to get tickets for that instead."
Jed turned to Abbey. "What do you think?"
She shrugged. "We like musicals. It's supposed to be very good. We might as well give it a try. Just because we aren't Jewish doesn't mean we won't still enjoy it."
So ten minutes later, the Bartlets watched a rural Russian scene open with a man playing a violin on a roof. Jed was immediately struck by the power, strength, and complex beauty of the music. The story and characters were captivating. Many times during the movie, Jed couldn't help but look over at Abbey. She didn't look back at him, but must have felt his gaze, as she reached over and held his hand each time.
When the movie was over, he couldn't help but feel as though this particular film would stick with him for a long time.
"So? How did you like it?" she asked him as they left the theater.
"I thought it was fantastic. What did you think?"
She smiled. "I agree. What a beautiful story. And I liked that music quite a bit. Absolutely beautiful, every minute of it. I loved the song Tevye sang about Chava, the redheaded daughter. Broke my heart, really. But I'm so glad we now live in a world where we can spend our lives with people we love. Do You Love Me? was such a poignant statement about that older generation." Abbey rested her head on Jed's shoulder as they walked, hugging his arm. "I don't think I'll ever have to ask you that question; I'll always know the answer."
"That's right," he promised, turning his head to kiss her hair. "You know what song I liked best?"
"Which?"
"That one in the woods where the tailor sings to the oldest daughter, what's-her-name."
"Tzeitel." Abbey was very aware of her husband's terrible memory for names. "But why was that your favorite?"
Jed gave a small smile. "It reminded me of us. Back at Notre Dame. You had a boyfriend and I was going to be a priest, but somehow, God showed me the way."
They had gotten back in the car by now, so Abbey scooted over close to him and kissed his cheek. "That's very true. I loved you so much, even then."
"Of all God's miracles large and small, the most miraculous one of all is the one I thought could never be: God has given you to me," Jed said, quoting the song.
Abbey's heart swelled and her eyes threatened to fill with tears. Jed wasn't always so sentimental, but when he was, it was really very beautiful. Something about that film had touched him, and she could tell that he'd be thinking about it for quite a while.
Many years later, Jed was sitting in his private study, flipping channels on one of his many television sets. Most of the screens showed various news organizations and CSPAN. But he needed something to clear his mind before he joined Abbey in bed. He saw an old familiar sight and put the remote down. A man playing a violin on a rooftop came into view, his plaintive song sounding through the rural town.
Jed sat back and watched the first few minutes of Fiddler on the Roof. It struck him how similar he had become to Reb Tevye. They both were men seeking intellectual and spiritual enlightenment, unafraid to take a stand for what was important. They both had three daughters—Tevye did have the two younger ones as well, but the older three were the ones the story focused on, of course. And like Tevye, Jed had been forced to accept choices his daughters had made that had displeased him. But also like Tevye, he loved his girls too much to ever really let them go. Maybe one of Tevye's descendants would grow up to be President of the United States, thanks to the brave steps that men and women like Tevye had taken in that changing world.
But Tevye once had to ask his wife if she loved him, because he wasn't sure. Jed never did have to ask. And Abbey would never have to ask him either. But she'd been angry at him as of late, thanks to her suspicions that he would run for a second term. He turned off the television and hauled his aging bones out of the chair. He'd remind them both of that happy time long ago when they'd decided to take an afternoon off and see a movie. Jed didn't have to be reminded that Abbey was the greatest blessing of his life, but he would tell her again anyway. Because as Tevye and Golde had said, it's nice to know.