The Numbers We Defy

Chapter 3

I looked up at the man standing in front of me. He was a man, I realized, not a boy. Maybe in his early twenties. He seemed taller up close, even as I was wearing heals. I'm more on the shorter side, so I never really cared about height, but he was really tall. I wasn't going to lie to myself and pretend I didn't find that attractive. 

"I'm so sorry," I apologized again.

"It's alright," he replied, his voice deeper than I'd expected.

I was frozen in place, unwilling to move. We stood like that for a few seconds until it became substantially awkward and I had to go. I gave him a short smile as and walked around him, making my way towards the large room. 

Deciding to forget about that awkward encounter, I joined my family in dancing. The music was loud, but I didn't mind. I liked it loud. 

Later, it was time for the toasts. The newlywed couple had joined us by now, and each member of the immediate family had to give a toast. Megan was Samuel was first, and my mom reached inside her purse for her phone. 

"Maya, can you see if my phone is upstairs?" my mom asked, realizing that it was no longer in her purse.

Reluctant to get up, I asked, "Can't Leo get it?"

"He's half asleep," she said, gesturing to my brother, who was leaning back in his chair, his eyelids slowly shutting. 

"Fine," I said, standing up from the table and making my way up the stairs.

"I think it's where we were sitting in the synagogue," she called after me.

I walked up the stairs and entered the giant room to my right. It seemed messier now, but still beautiful. 

I found the phone on the seat to the right of the hupa where we sat during the ceremony. Grabbing the phone, I began to walk back when I saw a figure sitting on the back row. 

It had been the man I had bumped into earlier. His shoulders were slouching and he seemed tired. I'm not sure why, but I walked up to him and asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just had to get away from the loud music," he explained. 

"Don't like weddings?" 

"Not really one for social gatherings."

"Tell me about it. If I have the say 'mazel tov' one more time, those might be my last words," I joked, attempting to lighten the mood.

He laughed in return. He had a nice laugh, like the first few notes of a beautiful melody. 

"I've never seen you before," he said. It was more of a question than a statement. 

"Yeah, I'm from Virginia. You live in the city?"

"Yep. Born and raised."

"Must be nice," I said.

"You like it here?" he questioned.

"Yeah. I'm going to live here someday."

"You don't like Virginia?"

"It's boring. There's no life there," I explained. 

"I wouldn't like it either," he said. "Although maybe, when I get too old for the city, I'll have to move somewhere more calm. It's scary isn't it?"

"What is?"

"The feeling that you might be stuck somewhere like that for most of your life."

I couldn't agree more. The truth is, I am scared to death that in ten years I'll marry some guy with a name like Jake or John and move into a colonial-style house in a neighborhood like the one I live in now and spit out a few kids and arrange a carpool with a bunch of moms to drive our kids to soccer practice. "It's really fucking scary."

I heard a few voices walking up the stairs and realized that I've been here for a bit too long. 

"I should head back," I said, gesturing towards the exit. 

"Yeah, it was nice talking to you, though."

"Yeah. You too," I said, turning around and walking back downstairs. 

The rest of the night had been a blur. 

My mom had decided that we should head back home to be there by tomorrow morning so my brother and I could go to school. 

I was afraid that she would fall sleep, so I decided to try to keep her awake with some conversation. 

"That was a good wedding," I started.

"A guy was staring at you," she said.

"Who?"

"That boy sitting at the table across the room."

"Really?" I asked. Given that there was only one boy at that table, I had known she was talking about the guy I had spoken to earlier.

"He seemed nice, but I think he might be a bit too old for you."

"Yeah, he looked like he was." I decided to keep our little conversation secret from my mom. 

"Someone asked about you," she said. 

"Really?"

"Some mother. Apparently she had a son who couldn't make it to the wedding. I told her you were still in high school and she backed off. That's how Georgian Jews date, by the way."

"What do you mean?"

"Georgian Jews have something like an arranged marriage. A parent sees a girl who they think might make a good wife for their son. They ask around about her, and if they like what they hear, they go to the girl's parents. They arrange a blind date, chaperoned, of course, and if the date goes well they get married. Megan is looking for a husband like that." 

I couldn't imagine being engaged to someone I had only met once. 

"You looked beautiful tonight, by the way."

"Thank you," I said.