Whispers was what he called temple gossip. Temples and churches claimed that their main purpose was a place of worship. That was only a front. They served as gossip chambers for communities, places where people went to judge and be judged. He had confirmed it with his non-Jewish friends, too. The news floating in between the pews held more importance to congregants than what was being said on stage. It was like gossiping inside a church or temple allowed people to be instantly absolved of their sins.
In temple, no family ever wanted to be the flashpoint of gossip. Gideon’s family was thrust into the spotlight when his dad passed away. He came for Shabbat services a few weeks after the funeral, and he heard it. He felt it. People whispered to each other and shot stealth and blatantly obvious glances at his family as they walked through the aisle to their seats.
That poor family.
That’s her. The one whose husband died. Cancer.
A widow with two teenage sons. I feel awful.
The temple congregation did come together to help out his family in the wake of his dad’s death. They sent cards, the rabbi paid them a visit, and members came over with homemade dinners for Gideon until his mom got off work. But he never forgot the whispers. He never forgot the unwanted spotlight.
He heard the whispers every year, on every holiday, at every party. Anytime somebody got divorced, or bought a BMW, or got laid off. Gossip was the chum that religion fed the sharks to keep them coming back. And Noah was a prime feast.
Can you believe he got arrested?
Did you hear what Noah called his teacher?
He dropped out to become a gambler. A gambler!
My son said he was into drugs. Pot. But who knows what else.
It must be so rough on Judy not having Alvin around to help with Noah.
That poor family.
Gideon couldn’t bear the whispers. He hated having to watch his mom put on a brave face. He didn’t want to make her life any more stressful, any more deserving of whispers. Even if that included keeping his room extra clean. He was going to be the best son in the world.
Oh, but that Gideon. He’s so smart. He got into Browerton early decision.
He’s a big shot on Wall Street. Earns a fortune.
He has a beautiful wife and three adorable kids.
Thank goodness for Gideon.
His phone rang on his nightstand. He stared at the name before answering. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks, brother.” Noah’s deep voice crackled on the line. “It’s all pretty exciting.”
“Exciting,” Gideon repeated, as if that were anywhere near the adequate adjective.
“I can’t believe I’m going to be a dad.”
“Me, neither.” Gideon meant it. He rubbed sleep out of his eyes. “I talked to Mom. She seemed happy.”
“You always know how to make me laugh, brother. She’ll come around. But you know what? Who cares. It’s not her life.”
That sounded a little harsh. She did give birth to him, so it is kind of her life, in a way.
“I have a favor to ask you, Gid.”
“What?”
“Will you be my best man?”
The question broke through Gideon’s sarcasm shield. Despite the circumstances, being the best man at your brother’s wedding was still a major milestone in a sibling relationship.
“Yeah, of course,” Gideon said, forgetting to be pissed at his brother for a moment. Noah was like a puppy. He meant well, but he couldn’t stop pissing all over the carpet.
