Where You Hang Your Hat: Part XI
Over the last few years, Ron's Rabbi had become both a trusted spiritual advisor and a friend to both of them. At first Kim felt a bit standoffish toward him. She had occasionally gone to Ron's synagogue for important occasions such as his bar mitzvah, but her focus then had been on her best friend, not the ceremonies themselves. In fact, until a chance encounter during one of their missions back when they were just fifteen, she had never actually spoken to the man.
It wasn't until the early days of their 'dating' relationship that she really got to know him. He was in the right place at the right time to talk some sense into both of them over something that now simply made both of them laugh, but at the time threatened not only to bring their budding romance to a crashing halt, but stood the potential of wrecking almost thirteen years of friendship.
To tell the truth, up to that point she was a little afraid of the man. It was one thing for him to accept that Ron's best friend was a Gentile, yet quite another that they were dating and, in hindsight, well on their way to forming a bond that would last their lifetimes. There were people out there who could be very intolerant of things like inter-faith dating and marriage. She went in worried that she would be judged by him, that she would be weighed and measured, and found wanting simply because she believed in slightly different things and went to church on Sunday mornings instead of Temple on Saturday.
Then, after all the bad feelings stemming from their near-break-up had been resolved, Rabbi Katz offered to have the couple come in to see him on a regular basis, not so much for couple's therapy, which he was qualified to give, but for some good old-fashioned advice on just about anything they needed to talk about. It turned out he was ready to go to bat for the two of them, recognizing what was going on between them. Eventually there were some people who didn't take too kindly to a protestant (not too many people knew that specifically she was a Lutheran with an Irish Catholic-born mother) dating a Reform Jew. Every so often there would be something in the fan mail they often received that stood as a reminder of just how much hate there was in the world. Without Katz, they would have had a tough time dealing with some of those things.
Still, Kim always felt that the Rabbi's kindness always had to do with Ron first, and she was in his good graces for her then-boyfriend's benefit. That was until, during the first half of the senior year of high school, something had happened to Kim that tore into her confidence and actually resulted in her seeing a professional counselor for some time after that. Before that could happen, though, she was deep in denial over the issue. It was Gerry Katz who finally got her to open up about it and to seek the help she needed. In the end, she found his advice and counsel to be the most important of all during that time.
Kim came to realize that Rabbi Katz was more than just Ron's spiritual leader and advisor, he was a true friend.
Knowing that, Kim just couldn't figure out why she was such a bundle of nerves. They were expecting the Katzs at seven and by six she had changed clothes three times. She started off in the navy dress she normally wore when she went to Temple with Ron, but thought that was just too formal. So, she got out a pair of dress slacks and a nice sleeveless blouse. With one look in the mirror, she decided that was too casual for a dinner party, so she put on a peach colored dress that was slightly shorter than the navy one without being considered a mini.
Ron just watched her antics from the kitchen. He was spared such considerations since he was the one doing all the cooking. Even though he was kidding her about glazing a ham, there really wasn't much room for two people to work unless they were totally in sync with each other, and Kim, bless her heart, turned into a total klutz when her feet passed from the ancient hardwood of their floors to the linoleum tile of the kitchen. He kept telling himself that one day he would get Mom P to put a portable brain scanner on her and make her attempt dinner, just to see if there was actually some physiological change that came over her when she tried to handle food. She was so good at so many things, but without Ron standing over her, giving her confidence, she could still be quite dangerous. A recent attempt at pot-roast, with a recipe and cooking instructions right out on the counter, would have made a good door-stop if it weren't already on its way to a landfill.
"KP, you need to chill. We've had dinner with the Rabbi and his wife before. Come on over here, I'll pour you some of that wine Dad gave us if it'll help you relax."
"Please and thank you." She hopped up on one of the stools, drumming her close-trimmed nails on the countertop. There was only enough left in the bottle for half a glass, but that was fine with her. She probably wouldn't drink more of it than that anyhow. That was how the bottle had lasted two weeks. Ron didn't care for the stuff at all, even though he would attend wine-tasting parties from time to time in the course of his culinary studies. Just because he was now capable of suggesting the proper wine didn't mean he wanted it himself.
"KP, I haven't seen you this nervous since you had that magazine interview after getting hit with the truth ray."
"I know, Ronnie. It really should be no big, but this is the first time we've had company, I mean outside of our parents and all. We just got finished putting this place together…"
"…and you feel like we're going to be judged. Babe, we're talking about Rabbi Katz here, the same guy who has to move a stack of magazines off the couch in his office when we go in to visit him. I don't think we have much to worry. Besides, this place looks badical! Who knew you had a home designer in you."
She smiled warmly at him and took a sip of the wine. It was supposed to be served at room temperature, but neither of them liked it that way, so it was chilled. For some reason it did have a calming affect, but that had much more to do with the act of drinking it and paying attention to the complex flavors than anything the minimal amount of alcohol she had ingested could do.
"You are changing, aren't you?"
"Think I should?" he held up his arms. He was wearing a brightly colored tropical shirt, one he called a 'High-waiin Flowerdy shirt' along with a pair of tan Bermuda shorts and sandals. Along with the fact he had deliberately gone a couple days without shaving, he looked like something that Margarita guy would sing about…or sit down at a bar and have a beer or twelve with.
"Most def. I laid some slacks and a light shirt out for you. They may be our friends, but this is going to be done properly tonight." She leaned over the counter, cupping his cheek. "You're going to shave too."
"Aw, man. I was liking this. Do I have to?"
"S'ha. Keep that up and I'll ride over to the house and get Dad's old pastel jacket, so you can push the sleeves up."
Both Ron and Rufus cringed at the thought. "Come on, KP. Let me at least keep a goatee."
Kim pulled a face, then pointed at the futon couch in the den. She didn't have to say another word. He was going to be clean shaven or that was where he was going to be spending his nights.
"Okay, I've got just about everything set. Think you can handle setting the table?"
She shot him another dirty look and hopped off the stool, finishing off her glass.
Fifteen minutes later, Kim stopped him on his way to their bed area and checked him out. The beard was gone, and so was his shirt. "Mmmm, I like that." She stroked his freshly bare cheeks with both hands. "Almost makes me wish we didn't have company coming."
He gave her a little 'Eskimo kiss,' not wanting to smudge her makeup. "Better let me get dressed, or this is how Rabbi's going to see me tonight."
She shooed him quickly into their 'room.' He came back out none-to-soon, as a soft knock announced their guests, roughly ten minutes early.
"Come on in, Rabbi, Mrs. Katz. Mi casa es su casa!"
"Gracias, Señor Stoppable, Señorita Possible. Como esta usted?" he grinned at the two of them. Like Ron, Gerry Katz had studied a little Spanish in high school and college. Again, like the younger man, most of his practice with the language came from a love of Mexican style food. None of them noticed Kim's light blush when he used the title 'señorita' for her. "I hope we're not too early." He asked.
"I was telling Gerry it's a lot better to be early than late." His wife, a fifty-ish, slightly heavy woman explained. Kim had only met her on a couple occasions outside of the synagogue and found she reminded her a lot of one of Ron's great aunts. At least in appearance. Neither of them had spoken to Gram Rokowski's sisters since they openly tried to forbid their relationship. Frances Katz could be very conservative and traditional, but did not butt into the affairs of others.
"I brought this as a housewarming gift…and I think it would be appropriate to consider it a birthday gift as well, since you really shouldn't get into it for a few more days." He handed Kim a bottle of wine. Ron's eyes went up, signaling it was a very nice bottle, though she had no idea herself. "Just promise you won't open it until you do turn twenty-one next week."
"Yes sir. Oh, and thank you, it looks like a really good wine." She handed the bottle to Ron, who put it into their previously empty wine rack in the nearby kitchen.
Dinner progressed pretty much as expected, with all kinds of small talk. A lot of it centered on the Katz's daughter, who had just left for Israel to study there. Following in her father's footsteps, she was planning to become a Rabbi herself, and despite the inherent danger, had her heart set on studying over there. Frances asked Ron if he ever considered studying there after he graduated, but he confessed that the thought never really crossed his mind.
"It's interesting that the two of you have never been called on a mission there." Rabbi Katz commented over desert.
"One of the few places." Ron mentioned. "Maybe we'll go there next year after we get married. Of course, by then we'll be busy getting settled into our house, but we've got to get to Jerusalem one of these days. Bethlehem too, for Kim's sake."
Kim blushed again when Ron brought up their nuptials, planned for just under a year from then. This time the slight flush of her cheeks didn't go unnoticed by the older man, though he simply took a sip of his tea. "Be sure to let me know when you get ready to go. I'm sure your travel credentials are better than most, but I can give you some good advice none-the-less."
Ron got up and started clearing some of the plates off the table. Kim started to help, but the Rabbi motioned for her to sit down. "You're not quite done, I'm sure Frances wouldn't mind helping Ronald in the kitchen."
She sat back in her chair, suddenly feeling very small as she was left at the table while the other two started with the clean-up.
"Uh, we didn't goof on the food. Ron doesn't exactly keep too kosher."
"Not a problem, Kimberly. Some of my favorite foods aren't exactly true kosher anyway. I can't got to New York city without stopping by Katz Deli for a huge pastrami reuben, and despite being traditional 'deli' food, all that melted cheese on the meat isn't exactly by the rules."
"Oh. Guess I've got a lot to learn, huh?"
"I wouldn't sweat it. Now, are you going to tell me what's had you on pins and needles all evening?"
Kim looked away from him. "Nothing. I'm just fine." She lied.
He leaned back in his seat. "Maybe we should have waited until after your birthday. Some of that wine would be very nice right about now. Anyway, I couldn't help but notice the two of you have suddenly stopped coming to see me since, say, about mid-winter."
The redness returned to Kim's face. He nodded.
"You're worried I'm about to lay into you about living together before you actually get married, aren't you?"
Kim's mouth popped open, but nothing came out. Slowly, she nodded.
"I thought so. Every time the two of you brought up the wedding, you either blushed or got really quiet there. Still, you've only lived here, what, just over two weeks?"
"Yes sir."
"Yet for five months now the only time I've seen the two of you was when you could both make it to Temple. Nothing's wrong, is there?"
"No. Actually, things have been going great. One more year of college and we'll be all set."
He considered things for a moment. "You haven't had an recurrence of the dreams, have you?"
She shook her head emphatically. "No sir. Nothing like that."
"Well, then, if I may be so bold, I would guess then that the two of you don't feel like you need to sit down and talk with me any more. While it would seem nice that you've grown that much, it would be sad, since I really do enjoy our conversations. Now, fairly soon, we are all going to have to sit down and start the real, official pre-marriage counseling. That is, if you still want me to perform the ceremony."
"Oh yes, of course. It's just…" She stopped, looking away again.
"Uh huh. Then perhaps something has changed between you and Ronald, something you don't feel comfortable discussing?"
"I…we…well, you know."
"Kimberly, you feel like you are going to be judged, don't you?"
"Yes." She answered softly, casting a glance over toward the kitchen area.
He chewed his lip for a moment, a gesture that was partially lost with his long beard. "That change, it happened last winter, didn't it?"
"Yes sir."
"I see. Kimberly…Kim, we've talked a great deal about this sort of thing in the past. Yes, I can't help but feel like you may have jumped the gun a little bit, but it's not unexpected. The whole time the two of you have been together, I mean together as a couple, you have been bumping up against this very issue. To be honest with you, I would have thought this would come a lot earlier than it did. A blind man can see just how intense the feelings you have for each other are.
"While officially, my position carries with it certain platitudes and yes, laws concerning what goes on between the two of you before you are truly married, I am not about to judge you. That is really between you and God. Really, if it were just up to me, I'd be one of the first people to say the two of you should already be married, and I don't mean just the fact the two of you could live together. Very often, I have to tell couples who are in your position they are way too young to consider such things.
"That doesn't apply to your case, however. When I tell someone that, it's because I see something in their relationship that could cause it to sour. When I see young people together, I want to help them on a path to being complete partners. There's far too many people getting together for the wrong reasons, resulting in divorce, or worse, two people staying together because they think it's the right thing to do when they really shouldn't be. Tell me something. Why is it that I shouldn't pick the two of you up tomorrow, take you down to the county courthouse and get a marriage license?"
"I…don't know. I guess it always seemed so practical to wait until after college. Ron will get our…his money. We'll have a nice house. Stuff like that."
"Okay. That sounds reasonable. So tell me, what's the difference between how you are living now and being married? You live together, and apparently have for some months now."
"You knew about that?"
He smiled warmly. "You aren't the only people I counsel. I did help Ron's father through his rough patch a couple years ago, and he still comes to talk to me on a regular basis. Also, your father, James, has proven to be my nemesis on the golf course. One of these days I'm going to break eighty five and beat him. In the mean time, he's spent a great deal of time talking about you and Ronald while we're walking the course. I'll let you in on a little secret. I think I'm the one who planted a little seed in his head about giving you a gentle nudge out of the nest."
She gulped. At the time, it really didn't seem all that much like a gentle nudge, but that had more to do with the relationship she had with her Dad. Still, they did decide once that was resolved to move out anyway, hence their new apartment.
He went on. "You live together, I would assume you sleep together since there's only one bed in here." He nodded toward their screened sleeping area. "I imagine there is sex involved. So, what's the difference besides having a piece of paper that says you're married, setting religious implications aside?"
She sat and thought about that. Everything he said was actually true. She even felt like she was married. All that remained was to get that document and start calling herself Mrs. Stoppable instead of Miss Possible. That's why his use of the Spanish title for an unmarried woman had affected her so.
"So, what are you saying, Rabbi? That we should go ahead and do it?"
"Well…no. If you had come to me and asked me last winter, I would have easily said yes. Then we would have had the time to properly prepare. I still won't perform a marriage without proper counseling first, so we've got that to look forward to.
"The main thing I want to get at tonight, though, is that you should relax. I'm not here to judge you, I'm here as a friend celebrating the founding of a new home, that's all."
"Okay, I'll try." She smiled slightly, feeling a little better. "Rabbi, there is something I've been meaning to talk to you about."
"What's that?"
"I was thinking that maybe…maybe I should convert."
"Really?" He looked surprised at the statement. Then he switched gear slightly. This was territory he was quite familiar with. "Why?"
"Well, for one thing, if…when we have children, it's my understanding they won't technically be Jewish unless their mother is."
"Is that all?"
"That, and I love Ron so much."
"So, you know that converting is a very long, difficult process. You've learned a lot about your fiancé's faith, but there is so much more you would need to learn."
"I'm willing to do whatever it takes."
"Let me ask you this, Kimberly. Do you want to do this because Ron is Jewish, or because this is what your heart is telling you to do?"
That took her aback. "Aren't those two the same thing?"
"No, they're not. Your heart telling you to do it because you think it's the right thing for his sake is different from what you believe between you and God deep in your heart. I won't go into what you believe right now as a Christian, but do you believe what I have had to teach in Temple?"
"For the most part, at least what I can understand, yes?"
"Does that conflict with what you believe as a Christian?"
She thought about that for a moment. "Some of it, yes."
"Okay, I'll tell you this. Don't make a decision yet. I know you are a good person, and that is not going to change whether you remain a Christian or if you do convert. Have you talked to Ronald about this?"
"No. I guess I wanted to sound the idea out with you first."
"Right there may be part of the answer. You're just about to turn twenty-one. You've got a lot of time for something this important. In the end, you have to decide what you need to be right with God. Do you understand that?"
"I think so."
"Good. See, this is all the more reason I should sit down and talk to the two of you from time to time, and not just the two of you together. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like some more of this banana pudding, if there's any left."
"I'll be right back." She started to pick up his plate, but stopped and gave him a hug. "Thanks."
"That's what friends are for." He said, returning the hug.
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