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The sadness in his eyes only grew. I knew how much he loved his parents, but it was a secret we needed to keep. And from their age alone, it was likely they’d not be super active when the child needed grandparents.
“Let’s roll. I’m sure they’ll love you.” Lex squeezed my hand.
Times sure had changed when a boy like him wanted to bring a boy like me home to meet his folks without hesitation.
Chapter Thirty
Lex
We pulled into my parents’ driveway early in the afternoon on a full bladder and empty stomach, nervous energy fluttering around inside me as much as the baby within.
We slid from the car, one after the other, as Zeke held out an arm to give me a nervous little hug. He hoisted a little bundle of flowers in his other arm, sunflowers, my mother’s favorite. “Is it a bad time to say I’ve never met a lover’s parents before?”
“Is it a bad time to say I’ve never introduced them to anyone before?” I nudged Zeke’s side and we shared a soft laugh that ended when the front door opened, my mom swinging it wide as we strode up.
“Alexei!” She beamed and beckoned us in, giving me polite glances with a smile that, to my surprise, didn’t fade. “And you must be Ezekiel!”
Zeke gave her a polite nod and flinched when she threw her arms around him with a boisterous hug and squeeze. “Alexei has told me so much about you. You’re so handsome!”
Zeke cleared his throat and weakly hugged her back, wheezing as she prolonged the hug and parted, stealing the bouquet of sunflowers in the process. She beamed with delight as she trotted away, oohing and aahing over the flowers. “Mikhail will be in soon. I vastly overestimated how much wine we had.”
I’d take a mouthful or two at dinner and avoid it due to some new diet trend. If they pressed, I’d make up some story about a candida infection in my gut that I was nursing from not eating well.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Zaslavsky.” Zeke’s posture stooped a little as he spoke and Mother whipped around, eyes almost aflame with irritation.
“You will call me Rachael, and if you intend to make it serious with my son, Ima.” Her outburst had Zeke stepping back and lowering his posture slightly, eyes not meeting her gaze. Something in her anger stifled in a heartbeat as she patted his shoulder and sighed. “Come on, I don’t bite. I’m just loud. You’ll get used to it.”
Zeke followed obediently as we migrated to the kitchen where I sat at the island counter on one of the raised stools while Zeke still stood. Everything in his posture heralded from a time where he’d be beaten for the wrong step, so I only gestured him closer to me and didn’t force him to sit. His emotions seemed to spill over into me, and I wouldn’t dare put him under any more stress.
“So, this is the infamous panky you’ve been hinting at?” Mother gave a coy look in Zeke’s direction before sliding her gaze up and down in appraisal. She glanced to me for an answer. “So. I’m curious. Is he…you know?”
My face burned as she kept talking, hinting at my sex life. She may have forbidden it under her roof, but she didn’t hold any preconceived notions that I was celibate. She just liked to pretend. Also, it was fun to weird out people who couldn’t run. “Mother!”
Zeke’s throat clicked as his cheeks managed to gain enough red in them to shift into something closer to a brick-like shade. “I—I mean that’s a stereotype from antiquity, ma’am. Back in the Grecco Roman empires, it was said that a man’s endowments were inversely correlated with his intelligence and civility, so barbarians were said to be endowed so. And it’s so ingrained into Anglo-Saxon culture and thought process that to this day, our firmly held stereotypes depict those of lower castes than us as being…for lack of a better word, hung.”
It was my mother’s turn to flush, her face morphing scarlet as she covered her face with a slap of her hand, rings and bracelets—the good jewelry she put on for company—clinking as she did so. “No! Heavens, no! Oh dear. I—” She slapped around on the counter before getting a dish towel to fan her face as she wheezed one apology after another. “That is not what I meant! Alexei! Please, do not think I—I would never.”
Zeke flinched back as if he wanted to curl up and die on the spot.
“I—okay my question wasn’t much better but I wasn’t talking about that. I mean, I didn’t know the history behind it. Interesting as it is. Huh… No wonder they have the old adages about Jewish men being far less aggressive and more intelligent…” She continued to fan at her face and avoid looking at Zeke. “I was just more curious if he was—you know.”
“I do not know.” Zeke’s voice came out in a mortified tremble.
“You know what?” I stared her down as she gave me a piercing stare and made some gesture with her hands that I wasn’t getting. Putting a ring on something?
“I do intend to eventually propose, sure.” Zeke stared at her pantomime before she made a grand gesture of pulling a carrot out of the fridge, reaching for a knife in the block, and unceremoniously chopping the end off.
“Oh.” I understood.
Zeke took a moment longer. “Oh…”
“It’s a valid question! I’ve never—I hear a lot of goyim men these days aren’t—” She gestured at the carrot. “Maybe I wondered if it was different or better? My friend Shayna says it’s different but—”
Zeke and I glanced at one another for a blink. We’d never even talked about it. It was actually a bit strange, when I thought about it. Not many males in his circumstances were given the procedure at birth at that time. But he answered her question. “I’m uh…” He gestured at the chopping board. “My father thought it would keep me from being promiscuous.”
Ten minutes into our visit, and my mother had a history lesson on penis size and knew my boyfriend’s circumcision status. I groaned in shame. “Moootherrrrr!”
“Well, I made this awkward.” She huffed as if asking about his rated-R turtleneck was normal… Then again, for Jewish parents…I should have warned him.
