[STORY] Damsel in Distress (Update #14 - 22 Tammuz p. 22)

amother

Tue, Jul 11 2023, 5:03 am

The Three Hardest Words

"Welcome to the Eli and Chava official Cleanup Session," Eli intones in a voice two octaves deeper than his normal speech.

He is gratified to see the corners of Chava's mouth twitch, but she doesn't respond.

So she's present, but not actively making things easier for him. Which is fair. She might have messed up, but it's his reaction that is currently piled up front and center. He needs to clean that up before there is anything at all to talk about.

"Chava..." Eli begins, then pauses again.

He takes a deep breath. Whoever called these the three hardest words to say was not kidding.

"Chava, I was wrong."

Once the boulders have cleared his mouth, it's easier to continue. Even with the tears forming in his eyes.

"Chava, I'm so so sorry. I lost my temper and the way I acted was awful. I punished you, and didn't even give you a chance to explain. I treated you like you were betraying me and trying to make me suffer. And I should have known, I've always known, that you don't ever want to hurt me. And still I hurt you.

"Chava, I want you to know that I feel terrible about what I did. I promise I'll do better next time.

"I told you once that I worked on my temper... I didn't realize how much more work I still need to do. But I will. I don't want to hurt you ever again."

There is silence.

Eli's vision is still blurry, although no tears have actually broken free. He can't tell what Chava's expression is like.

Finally, she says softly, "Thank you for telling me that."

Eli wilts a little at the lukewarm response.

Still, it can go either way. Cautiously, he offers, "I didn't give you a chance to explain last time... but I'm listening now."

Another long silence.

It is hard not to babble to fill the empty space, and Eli keeps his lips pressed tightly shut. Words are marching repetitively through his mind, and it takes him a minute to recognize them: "Selach Lanu, Mechal Lanu, Kaper Lanu."

At long last, Chava shifts in her chair.

She isn't looking at him, not at first. "When I was younger, we had a next door neighbor with a lot of little kids. They were adorable. They were also a handful, but nothing really unusual. My mother would ask me a lot of times to go over there and play with the kids after supper, or help with bedtime.

"I did, and I enjoyed it. I also liked that my mother would let me stay up later when I went.

"But I remember wondering — I must have been 10 or 11 — why the mother kept having so many kids. I don't know if I knew about birth control then or not, but I did know that some people had smaller families.

"And then one night, after I helped put the youngest to bed, and the mother, who was obviously very pregnant, said something that I never forgot. She thanked me of course, and then she said, 'Kids are wonderful, but they aren't the easiest mitzvah.'

"I didn't realize at the time what an impression it made on me, but I kept hearing those words: Kids are a mitzvah."

Eli waits, but Chava seems to be finished for now.

It's hard to raise an objection without sounding like he's attacking, but he tries. "Didn't you ever feel resentful about helping so much?"

Chava sighs. "Once I heard her, really heard her, no. It changes your perspective. It's like the farmers during Shemitah. People don't feel resentful about helping them sit and learn, you realize that you want to be part of the bracha."

Eli swallows a retort. Forcing himself to speak calmly, he offers, "Many things bring bracha. We don't do all of them."

"But this is a mitzvah."

"A mitzvah that maybe doesn't need to be done right away. Don't you think we should at least think about it?"

"No," Chava says simply.

Eli bites his lip.

"I mean, it's important to think about the how, to work out the best way to do things. But it's a mitzvah. The first step is agreeing to do it."

Here is a ready-made opening. "Chava, I appreciate your dedication. But I am not on that madreigah. I can't just blindly accept to have children right now, especially if halacha doesn't require it."

Chava leans forward. He can see the fire coming back into her eyes.

"I don't believe that, Eli."

It is the first time she has used his name today, and he notices.

"Why did you get married?"

Eli is unsure what kind of response she is expecting. He hopes he won't botch it. "I was happy to."

"No, what was the real reason?"

"I was forced to?"

"No, you weren't actually forced to. Why did you agree to get married at this point of your life when you were not actually planning on it?"

"Because it was the only option."

"Why was it the only option?"

"Halacha."

Chava bangs on the table. "Right. Halacha. That's why you got married. Not because you wanted a partner. Not because you wanted a companion. Not because you wanted love or someone to cook for you. Because of Hashem."

Eli nods, not sure where this is going.

"And when you get married for yourself, then there are a lot of calculations. She isn't nice to me. She is bringing out the worst in me. See, I had my temper problem fixed before and she is destroying all my progress. It's easy to decide that the marriage is no good.

"And then when it comes time to have children, it's the same thing. I'm not ready. Now's not a good time. It's too weird to have a baby here."

Eli looks down.

"And... it's true. All those things are true. But Eli...

"I want to be married because of Hashem. Not because it makes sense. Because a lot of times it won't. We end up hurting each other. Like today.

"But if we're married because of Hashem it will last. And that means doing it His way. And having kids is a mitzvah too.

"Maybe, maybe because naturally women want to have children, they forget that it's a mitzvah. But for a mitzvah, we don't make cheshbonos."

Chava is looking directly at him now, pleadingly.

"Hashem also gives exemptions, though," Eli says.

"But in some cases it is our choice to take them or not."

"Like now?"

"Like now," Chava says evenly. "We don't have any compelling reasons why not, just a bunch of what ifs."

"We have a heter."

"If there was a pressing need, I'd take it. But you don't ask every Erev Shabbos if you should be Mechalel Shabbos."

"I'm not sure I agree with your premise." Eli says.

"Why?"

"Can I tell you my story?"

Chava nods.

"Growing up, we had a few big families on our block. The biggest one really stands out in my mind. My sisters would go over a lot to help them, but they were a bunch of rowdy kids and their mother seemed to be always sitting on the front porch complaining while her kids ran around. I remember their house being messy and wild."

"Mazel Tov Eli, you saw an imperfect family." Chava's sarcasm is cutting.

"That's not my point. But I realized once that the main reason they had so many kids was peer pressure. Their kids weren't really wanted, and definitely not taken care of.

"I saw it, and I didn't like it.

"I don't want to have kids just because that's what you're supposed to do."

The words hang.

"Eli," Chava says at last, "did you have friends in school?"

Another trap is in the offing, he knows. Warily, he answers affirmatively.

"And did you encourage each other in learning? Play basketball together at breaks?"

"Yes," he answers again.

"That's peer pressure too. Peer pressure to do a mitzvah is not a bad thing."

"In the case of my neighbors, it was."

"No, in the case of your neighbors it was good. But they only got half the message. It's a mitzvah to have kids, and also a mitzvah to raise them properly. Your block apparently didn't manage to give enough peer pressure for the second part."

"Or in other words," Eli sums it up, "you need to aim higher."

Chava nods.

Eli closes his eyes and lets himself think. He feels too young for this. Making a decision, as Chava seems to be saying, to have children as soon as Hashem sends them? Even here, in what is essentially a prison? Ignoring his logical mind, which is screaming at him that children need to be planned for?

But then again, how did he even get here? Sitting here with a young woman from a different city, who was obviously his soulmate, who both pushed all of his buttons and was pushing him to take a higher path?

Eli opens his eyes and looks straight at Chava. "I accept."

It is a beautiful moment.

Until he stretches out his hand to shake on it, pulling it back flustered once he remembers.

Chava tries to keep a straight face, but gives up quickly. Relieved, he joins in the laughter.

Eli feels himself really breathing for the first time since his blowup.

When they both have calmed down, though, he looks earnestly at Chava.

"Chava, you betrayed me."

Chava winces.

"But you didn't betray our marriage."

Chava's voice is icy. "What's the difference?"

"Me, as a person, you left me out. But you made a decision based on what is good for our marriage, for Hashem.

"Chava... after hearing you out, I'm not angry at you. I'm sorry I was."

Chava's face relaxes again.

"But I don't want this kind of thing to happen again. I don't want it to be me versus the marriage.

"Like you were saying before, there's an option to aim higher."

Eli takes a deep breath before continuing.

"Please, don't keep secrets from me. I'm okay with holding onto a decision that I'm not ready for until we can work it out. But I want to be together with it."

Now it's Eli's turn to look pleadingly across the table.

Chava, her eyes welling up, meets his gaze.

"I agree. I'm so sorry, Eli."

Eli smiles, a full smile that shows that she is forgiven.

"Air shake?" she offers.

They both jump when they hear a knock at the door.

to be continued...