Chapter Twenty Six

The following week, Maureen and him met his lawyer to complete the adoption procedure, and he'd officially become Libby's father. After the previous week's setback, it felt like a huge leap forward. Everything was finally falling into place. But even though they now had a date and some sort of plan for the wedding, there was still a ton to do. They compiled a small guest list – tiny, really – and were still discussing venue and rings, and Maureen had finally relented to search for a proper dress – he had Arianna to thank for that.

The one thing that was his own responsibility apart for finding a rabbi was getting a suit. He had promised to take care of it to take the pressure off Maureen, who was handling her own dress and Libby's (and quite frankly had enough wardrobe issues at work), but only now the size of the problem presented itself to him. He assured her he didn't need her to go shopping with him, all the while knowing full well he had no chance of finding something decent by himself.

"Why the long face, Cohen?" asked Tammy as he handed her the coffee he'd picked up for her on his way in. "I thought you'd be happy to sign those papers finally."

"I am. It's something else that bugs me. Do you have the contact details for Rabbi Feldman?" She was a Reform rabbi, highly recommended by some of his friends. Given the unconventional nature of the wedding, it sounded like the perfect solution.

"Yeah, let me find it," she replied, pulling out her phone. "You should tell Maureen you want her to go with you," she pointed out while scrolling, somehow zeroing in right on the problem without him having to say anything. "There we go, I'll email you the details."

"Thanks. And I can't bother Maureen with this inconsequential nonsense."

"It will not seem inconsequential to you when she walks down the aisle, takes one look at what you're wearing and runs away screaming."

He cringed at the very vivid and highly likely mental image his friend had created. "If you really want to show support, Horowitz, why don't you come with me?"

Tammy gaped at him. "You want me to go shopping with you?"

"Why not? Who knows, you might even be helpful." He looked at her pleadingly, laying aside jokes and teasing. "I could really use your help, Tammy."

"Aw, you know I can't resist you when you look at me like a lost puppy," she cooed. "But I have a session this afternoon I can't put off."

"Tomorrow? I'll even buy you dinner. How about it?"

"Alright, fine."

"You're the best, Horowitz."

"I know," she smiled angelically.

"I'll go call Rabbi Feldman."

As he was sitting down in his office, his phone jingled with a new text message.

Hey, stranger, where have the two of you gone to?

The solution to his problem seemed to drop straight into his outstretched hands. Kicking himself for not considering Benny right away, he texted a quick reply, thinking he could get Tammy off the hook. Benny was the perfect guy for the task ahead.

"So let me get this straight," said Benny as they met by the subway stop several hours later. "You need my help – "

"Benny, I told you four times already, yes, I need your help," he said, kind of impatiently even though he knew Benny was only taunting him. As irritating as it was, it was also somewhat comforting to know Benny hadn't changed all that much.

Benny flashed him that heart-melting smile that made him appear so charming in everyone's eyes. Even Maureen wasn't entirely immune to it, even if she had passionately claimed to the contrary. "I know you did; I just couldn't resist hearing it again. Mark Cohen needs my help. It's an honor one should not take for granted."

"Will you let it go already? I'd do it myself, only I know better. I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't an emergency."

"So we're looking for a tux?"

"A suit. We don't want anything too formal."

"By we you mean Maureen?"

"Actually no," he said proudly, because he'd learned to take pride in anything the two of them had agreed on with hardly any arguments. It felt so mature.

"But she let you pick one all by yourself?"

"Because I stupidly promised her I could handle it. Please? I'm desperate."

"Clearly," grinned Benny, then patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll get you all sorted. I know exactly the right place. Follow me, Cohen."

They rode the subway to Tribeca to a menswear shop that Benny had apparently frequented. If the suit he was currently wearing any evidence, the place had promising prospects. Walking towards the shop, Benny grilled him on perplexing topics such as theme colors and flowers, making him feel impossibly more clueless than he'd initially felt. He even had to text Maureen several times, but she was slow in replying, probably busy with work.

The shop looked frozen in time, a far cry from trendier shops on the same street. It looked as though it belonged on Park Avenue. Benny walked in confidently and greeted everyone by name. He breathed in the expensive scent of lilac diffuser and hoped the shop was more affordable than it appeared, when Benny called his name to draw his attention. Next to him was an imposing brunette in a pencil skirt and a fitted blazer, both immaculate navy blue. Her lips were dark magenta, her hairdo stiff with hairspray, her makeup thick as if she was wearing a mask, concealing who knew how many wrinkles. The scent of her fragrance was overpowering, stronger even than the lilac-scented diffuser. He held back a sneeze as Benny introduced them.

"Annette, this is Mark Cohen. Mark, this lovely lady is Annette, the owner."

"Save those compliments to your wife, Benjamin," Annette uttered Benny's name with a hint of a French accent. Despite her bashful protest, it was clear she was enjoying the attention.

"Nice to meet you," he shook her hand, holding his breath the best he could against a new wave of sickly sweet scent.

"What can I do for you, gentlemen?"

"Mark here is getting married, and both him and his fiancée are old friends of mine. What better place is there to buy an outfit for the most important day of their lives?"

Benny hadn't lost an ounce of that old charm. Annette was visibly melting. But underneath the flattery there was true sincerity to the words, and it dawned on him how much he'd missed that about Benny.

"His fiancée is a costume manager on Broadway so we need him to look sharp," added Benny, winking at him. "I'm thinking a three piece suit?"

Annette took a long look at him from head to toe, and he felt his cheeks begin to burn underneath the scrutiny of her gaze. It was so awkward; as if he was standing there naked. "Yes," she said eventually, looking thoughtful. "Let's see what we've got for you. Right this way."

The spacious dressing room at the back of the shop reminded him of the time he went with his mother to buy a suit for his Bar Mitzvah. There were mirrors everywhere like the fanciest fun house. His image reflected back at him no matter where he stood. There was absolutely nowhere to hide. He felt disheveled and severely underdressed, especially next to Benny who fit in perfectly in his dark suit and blue dress shirt. He looked after Annette as she excused herself and disappeared back in the store.

"She's something, isn't she? Heart of gold, this woman has."

Sure, underneath all those layers of makeup, he thought, but didn't say. Heart of gold or not, she was still intimidating. Then he noticed smaller dressing room cubicles along one wall. At least he wouldn't have to take his clothes off next to her, he thought with relief. "You seem well-acquainted."

"Alison's dad brought me here before our wedding, so it's a closure of sorts," said Benny with a bit of a reminiscent smile. He was about to ask after Alison, but just then Annette returned with some options for them to choose from. "Alright," said Benny, his voice turning practical. "Let's get stared."

He held back a yawn. It was going to be a long afternoon.

Two hours and what felt like twenty suits later, they headed out. The suit they ended up choosing was dark charcoal (because apparently a simple black was tacky and therefore unacceptable) with a slim tie in subtle pink they could both agree on, and even a handkerchief thingie for the side pocket that he was partial to, but Benny assured him Maureen would love. It turned out slightly pricier than he'd hoped, but if he was being honest, the suit really did look good on him, and he knew Maureen would like it. They left it with Annette for minor alterations, and headed to a nearby bar for a much needed drink.

Benny thanked a redheaded waitress who brought them their drinks. He sipped his drink thoughtfully, and then hesitantly said, "I'm sorry about Roger, man. I didn't want to say anything at the picnic."

"Thanks. I know he thought of you as a friend, despite everything."

"I wish things were different."

"I do too. Every single day." He looked ahead somberly, letting memories take over for just a split second. "Libby's favorite teddy bear is named Roger," he said then, mostly to lighten up the atmosphere. Benny nearly chocked on another sip. He chuckled. "I know, I reacted the same way."

"Maureen's idea?"

"Apparently not."

"I still can't believe you guys are getting married," said Benny, shaking his head incredulously.

"I know. It's totally crazy," he agreed, although it was getting more real by the second. Their pretend vows from the other night came to mind and his smile widened an inch. Granted, they were both just a tad inebriated, but he was pretty sure the alcohol wasn't entirely to blame for what had been said. And hearing Maureen tell him he was the love of her life was strangely empowering.

"So how come you guys went AWOL all week? Like, I figured you must be busy with work, but I didn't catch you at school either. I was getting worried about you."

"Yeah... Sorry, it's been a bit weird." He hesitated, then told Benny what happened at the benefit. Benny stared at him incredulously as he recounted all the grim details of his tale. Now with the worst of it over, it was amazing how detached he sounded.

"So the bastard just left you there to handle this shit on your own?"

"Well, he reappeared at some point during the week, but pretty much, yes."

"But you guys are okay, right?" There was certain anxiousness to the question; for a second, Benny seemed scared of the contrary.

"We're fine. We got tested the following day. We're all negative. But you know, it was scary."

"I bet. I wish I'd known; I could have kicked his ass for you."

"I'm sure Maureen will appreciate it, Benny," he said, rolling his eyes a bit. He hesitated, then said, "Talking to her parents, I got the impression it didn't end well with him. I'm not supposed to know about it; she never actually told me what he did to her."

Benny looked at him, surprisingly amused as if by some private joke, then shook his head. "You two so deserve each other," he said, chuckling to himself. His phone vibrated on the bar between them, and the screen lit up, displaying Alison's name. "Damn it, I didn't realize it was so late," he said, already raising his hand for their check.

"Let me have it," he said. "I really appreciate your help today, Benny."

"That's what friends are for, right?"

"Right."

"We should do this again. Soon. And if you guys disappear again, I'll stalk you by the kids' school."

"Deal." Then something occurred to him, and he looked at Benny intently. "You know, I still haven't got a best man."

He didn't say anything else, letting the question hang between them. Benny was quiet for the longest time. The unspoken request seemed to surprise him, but he seemed touched by it just the same. "It will be my honor to be your best man, Mark."

It was after eight when he finally got home, and he couldn't stop smiling. He locked the door and dropped his bag in his study. The living room was dimly lit and the apartment was quiet, apart for a constant murmur coming from down the hall. It was Libby's bedtime, and he kicked himself for not being there sooner to read to her himself, today of all days. Now he hurried down the hall feeling very guilty all of a sudden, and knocked softy on the doorway. Maureen lowered the book to her lap and turned to smile at him. She scooted a bit so he could sit by Libby's bedside.

"Daddy," said Libby sleepily.

"Hi, sweetheart," he said, leaning to kiss her forehead. "I'm sorry I'm so late."

"S'okay," she slurred, her head dropping on the pillow. Maureen closed the book she had read from as he tucked the covers more tightly around Libby. By the time they turned off her light and closed her door halfway, she was already fast asleep.

Halfway to the living room, Maureen grabbed his hand gently and pulled him towards her. His lips met hers halfway with a lingering kiss. "Where have you been?" she murmured, slowly pulling away.

"Didn't you get my text? I was out shopping with Benny. We went for drinks later and I didn't realize how late it was getting."

"Out shopping with Benny?" she echoed, one eyebrow raised suspiciously.

"Yeah."

"Does he wear Clinique?"

"What?"

"The fragrance that's all over your shirt. It isn't yours, so I'm assuming it's Benny's since you just said you spent all afternoon with him."

For a second, he wasn't sure what she was on about; then it suddenly dawned on him. "Oh, the fragrance isn't Benny, it's this woman's – "

"What woman?" asked Maureen, taking one step back. The question was uttered in a strangely high pitch.

He blinked, unsure if he was imagining things. Was it possible she was... jealous? "Annette, the owner of the shop he took me to. To buy a suit. For our wedding?"

She didn't say anything, just kept looking at him, as if she wasn't sure if she should believe him. "Where is it?"

"It needed alterations, they'll send it over when it's done." She still looked strangely skeptic, which amused him. It was so unlike her to be jealous like that. "Besides," he added, hoping to distract her with a joke. "It's bad luck to see it beforehand."

"Is that some kind of Jewish tradition?" she asked, the twinkle in her eyes more familiar now. "Besides, I think we've already had all the bad luck in the world." She closed the distance between them and slowly wrapped her arms around him, but he barely managed to hug back when she recoiled. "First change out of this shirt," she said breathlessly, jokingly pushing him towards their bedroom.

"So how was your day?" he asked when they finally crawled into bed.

"Busy. I may have found us a venue, and Libby and I met this really nice woman while we were shopping this afternoon."

He knew he should probably focus on the venue, but she was smiling mysteriously, wordlessly begging him to question it. "What woman?"

"Well, it was kind of creepy at first. I never met her in my life, and she somehow addressed me by name."

"How did she know your name then? Has the guy from the Village Voice published his article?"

"He did, but that's not where." He waited, intrigued almost despite himself. "Apparently her younger brother told her about me."

"So you know her brother?"

"You could say that." She gave him a look as if expecting him to figure out something insanely obvious, then shook her head and beamed at him. "I'm going to marry him in September."

It was a moment before it even sank in, and she chuckled as if he was a hopeless case. "You met my sister?"

"Bizarre, isn't it? Given she doesn't even live around here."

"What was she doing here?" And why hadn't she called to tell him she was coming? He could have asked for her help with the suit!

"She had to run some errands, I'm not really sure." She looked at him earnestly. "She was so nice, Mark. When I realized who she was I was terrified she would make a scene like your mother, but she was lovely."

A sigh of relief escaped him as he was reminded of his own conversation with his sister a few weeks back. He knew Cindy would never take their mother's side without making her own judgment first. He was so happy she didn't prove him wrong. The fact that it was unplanned only made it better. This kind of reaction couldn't be faked.

"We spoke for the longest time, poor Libby got so bored with us. And they're coming over for dinner this weekend. I mean, if that's okay."

"Are you kidding? It's more than okay." It was a huge relief, not to go to Scarsdale, where there was a constant risk of bumping into his mother. That year for Passover he stayed in Manhattan and celebrated with friends, not wanting to cause awkwardness for Cindy and the rest of the family.

"Except..." Her face fell, she peeked at him a bit uncertainly.

"What?"

"I think they'll be expecting proper Shabbat dinner and I... Well, this is probably the downside of you marrying a Shiksa."

She looked so distressed all of a sudden so he held back a comment on how adorable she looked (although she did). "Honestly, don't worry about it. We'll figure it out."

"I don't know... What if we're making a mistake?"

"What are you on about?"

"What if you should marry someone who knows how to handle Shabbat dinners and holidays and all that stuff? What if your mother is actually right and this isn't supposed to happen?"

"Whoa, where is this all coming from?"

"What if the rabbi hates me?"

"I'm meeting one tomorrow. Why would she hate you?"

She blinked in surprise, momentarily sidetracked. "A female rabbi? I didn't even know they existed."

"Yeah, she's fantastic. You can come with me to meet her. She won't hate you." He had no idea where this bout of insecurity was coming from, but as charming as it was, it was also ridiculous. "Listen," he said, reaching for her hand. "It's going to be fine. It's just dinner. You handled worse, trust me." He held her gaze, and didn't let go until she slowly nodded. "And my mother is wrong. It's supposed to happen, and it will happen. Because I don't want anyone else."

"Well," she said slowly. "You did just buy a new suit."

"Exactly. And if you only knew what I've endured in order to get it," he pretended to shudder, eliciting a sweet chuckle from her. "Plus, the adoption's just been finalized, so you can't exactly get rid of me. Also," he added, and his cheeks colored slightly by his attempt at craftiness. "You wouldn't want to break my heart all over again, would you?"

She tried to scowl at him, but couldn't stop her grin from escaping. "Bastard."

"But?"

"But I asked you to marry me and you said yes, and so we're doing this."

"Damn straight."