Dating Kosher by Michaela Greene

up. I was just thankful I had avoided discussing the issue of my sudden detachment from Max Levine at length.
    Putting down my phone, I cringed as I glanced at the clock: it was a bit late, but if I hustled I could still fit in a visit with my bubby before Shabbat dinner was served at the home, and still be back in time to get ready for my night out with Bev.
     

Chapter 13
    “ Ess, ess , you’re a stick, Shoshanna,” Bubby said as I sat across from her at one of the long tables in the senior center’s dining room. The clank and clatter of buffet service filled the room along with the hum of voices and even the occasional peal of laughter. There was always plenty of food, especially on the Shabbat when many of the residents had family visit for the important weekly meal.
    I shook my head. “I’m not hungry, Bubby. And I’m going out with Bev later. I’m sure we’ll grab something to eat anyway.”
    She shrugged at my refusal to eat but didn’t say anything more about it. She was too focused on the next table over.
    “Look at that Barbara, hardly able to walk and she’s flirting with Shlomo over there. I don’t think he even notices. He’s as deaf as the table he’s sitting at!” She smirked, her forkful of turkey suspended halfway to her mouth as she watched her contemporaries trying to hook up. It was hilarious. Sometimes it was hard to tell who enjoyed my visits more, her or me.
    “You’re much more attractive than Barbara, why don’t you get in there with Shlomo. I hear he’s worth a fortune,” I teased. I really had no idea who the man was or what he was worth.
    She snorted. “I have no need for that Shlomo or his money.” She waved her fork at me. “And anyway, if I was looking for a companion, I would go bat my eyelashes at Sidney Finkel. Now there’s a gentleman. And he’s the Sidney Finkel of Finkel and Sons.” She gave me the knowing look, as though I should understand the significance of Finkel and Sons. I just nodded along with her.
    “Is he a hottie?” I asked, a man’s looks being well within the realm of my understanding.
    “I don’t know what you mean by ‘hottie,’ but he’s a nice gentleman, not a schlemiel like that Shlomo.” Nodding her head, she frowned at where her friend was still trying to put the moves on poor, deaf, clueless Shlomo.
    “Why don’t you ask Mr. Finkel to escort you to Dad’s wedding?” I offered, only realizing once the words were out of my mouth just how jealous I would be if my very senior grandmother had a date to the wedding and I was stuck going stag.
    “Oh I don’t know,” a grin crept across her face, accompanied by a faint blush, just noticeable under the wrinkled and powdered flesh of her cheeks. “I couldn’t ask a man.”
    “It’s done all the time nowadays.” I felt bad for begrudging her the little bit of companionship that bringing an escort would afford her. God knows she had to be lonely all these years without my zaidy.
    Bubby stabbed at a slice of turkey, swirling it around in the congealing gravy. “I just couldn’t.”
    I looked around the room. “Which one is he, I’ll ask him for you.” It wouldn’t be hard to pick him out, I thought. The female to male ratio ensured that any man in the senior’s center would have a good stock of ladies to choose from. Other than Shlomo, there were two other men I could see: one hooked up to a tank of oxygen and being fed by a nurse and another sitting in his bathrobe and slippers, staring blankly out the window. I silently hoped neither was Sidney Finkel.
    “Oh Shoshie, it’s enough. He’s at his son’s cottage this weekend. They picked him up yesterday. He’s got nice kids.” She sighed, looking off out the big picture windows.
    I felt guilty. Dad was so busy all the time and didn’t get to see his mother as much as he should have. His brother, my Uncle Moishe, wasn’t much better, his busy restaurant taking up most of his time. Truth be told, his restaurant had been