"Where's Your Jewish Wife?"

“Well, it’s a good thing those tickets are free. I’d hate for you to waste money on something mom couldn’t use,” I say and purposely avert my eyes from Seth’s puzzled expression. “I mean, she never leaves us alone.” I turn to face my mother. “Do you mom?”



Sam smiles but it is really a hidden growl. I am taking something away from her that she really wanted—just like she did to Jack and me.


“But we have Ms. Krantz, right mom?” Jack offers and without thinking, I kick him hard under the table. “Ouch, what’d you do that for?” He rubs his shin and makes soft whining noises.


“Sorry, it was just an accident,” I smile and victoriously shove a big piece of cake into my mouth.


“Amelia’s right, Vinny, I just don’t know if it would be such a good idea,” she hands him the tickets quickly, before she can change her mind.


I imagine my dad, sighing with relief on a puffy white cloud above Meadowview.


“Look, why don’t you sleep on it. There’s no rush, okay?” Mr. McGee puts them back in mom’s hands with an ease that lets me know he’s touched them before. If I were a dog I’d be growling right now.


Clearly, drastic measures are needed here.


“Where’s your Jewish wife? Is she okay with you dating another woman?” I ask and watch the color drain from Mr. McGee’s face and emerge tomato-like on my mother’s.


“You are such a bitch!” Seth yells and runs out of the kitchen to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Jack’s bug eyes are bigger than ever, loyally glued to our mother.


“I’m not married kid. Never was and never going to be. Seth’s mom left us when the boy was almost two.” He rises from the table and looks down at me. “Anymore questions?” I shake my head and keep my eyes on the table as Mr. McGee heads for his son’s bedroom.


“I think we should get going. Thanks for everything,” mom says and quickly scurries back and forth from the kitchen table to the sink with dirty dishes.


“Leave it will ya?” He turns to me and says, “That’s what friends do,” before knocking softly on Seth’s door.


My mother doesn’t look at me for the rest of the evening. She is an expert at avoiding anything ugly and unpleasant.