here with the girls.”
I gave Homa a pleading look. “But you must come with us. I need a friend to dance with.”
Homa shook her head. “It’s bad enough I have to endure all those disapproving looks at synagogue. Why should I suffer them at a stranger’s wedding, especially when there’s no hope that I will ever marry again?”
“But we only make a presumption based on three cases,” Abaye protested, “not two.”
“He’s correct,” I said. “A Baraita teaches that although Rebbi says a woman who married twice and whose husbands have both died may not marry a third, Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel disagrees and rules that she may be married a third time, but not a fourth.”
“You two can make all the arguments you like.” Homa’s voice was bitter. “As far as Pumbedita is concerned, I’m a katlanit , which means no man will risk his life to marry me.”
“I will also stay home.” Abaye’s eyes were on Homa. “It is too soon after Babata’s death for me to attend the wedding of a stranger.”
• • •
It seemed unkind to Homa and Abaye to express how delighted I felt about attending the wedding, so I said nothing. But after suffering with so many of Em’s stricken patients, I needed a celebration with dancing and a feast. The month of Adar had just begun, and the Rabbis taught that in Adar happiness increases.
Leuton’s hazel eyes, a tribute to her Roman-soldier father, gleamed with anticipation. It was unthinkable that a woman of my prominence would attend a wedding without a personal slave to serve her. Leuton, who cared more about my clothes than I did, insisted I wear my finest outfit. These were the blue silks Pazi had given me before she married my brother Tachlifa and the matching gold anklets studded with lapis lazuli. I had grown taller since receiving the tunic and trouser outfit, with the serendipitous result that the anklets were now clearly visible below the cuffs and would catch the light when I danced.
She took an inordinate amount of time to arrange my hair in elaborate curls and braids, the latter interwoven with blue silk ribbons, then made me close my eyes while she applied my makeup. When I looked in the mirror, I scarcely recognized myself.
“Leuton, you have outdone yourself. Aren’t you afraid I’ll outshine the bride?” I teased her. Of course a widow like me, in her midtwenties, would never outshine a bride still in her teens.
Blushing at my praise, Leuton pulled out the vial of labdanum and proceeded to anoint me. Hoping this would be another way for Rava to discern my feelings, I’d begun wearing the labdanum periodically since our argument over the love spells. He might have told Abaye that my perfume was of no concern to him, but the way he startled when he smelled me wearing it belied his words.
There was no mistaking his appreciation when I came downstairs. His eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped, only to immediately revert to a more respectful expression. Em’s eyes twinkled with pleasure, while Homa gave me a wistful smile.
With his elbow, Abaye prodded Rava, who wore a slightly large green silk tunic over linen trousers with matching green trim. “Aren’t you glad I had you borrow my clothes today?”
Rava did look handsome, although Tobia could have made more of an effort to tame his master’s hair and beard. “I hope Rav Yosef’s students behave themselves as well as they dress,” he replied.
Abaye nodded sympathetically and sent us on our way. Em waited to join several well-dressed older women, leaving Rava and me to continue on together.
I waited for Rava to say something about my outfit or perfume, but, to my surprise, he wanted to talk about Abaye. “I am worried that Abaye is having difficulty with his yetzer hara. Lately he has been gazing at Homa in a lustful manner.”
I rolled my eyes. “All men gaze at her that way.”
“I don’t.”
I had to admit that was true. “But Abaye hasn’t had the benefit of studying
I gave Homa a pleading look. “But you must come with us. I need a friend to dance with.”
Homa shook her head. “It’s bad enough I have to endure all those disapproving looks at synagogue. Why should I suffer them at a stranger’s wedding, especially when there’s no hope that I will ever marry again?”
“But we only make a presumption based on three cases,” Abaye protested, “not two.”
“He’s correct,” I said. “A Baraita teaches that although Rebbi says a woman who married twice and whose husbands have both died may not marry a third, Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel disagrees and rules that she may be married a third time, but not a fourth.”
“You two can make all the arguments you like.” Homa’s voice was bitter. “As far as Pumbedita is concerned, I’m a katlanit , which means no man will risk his life to marry me.”
“I will also stay home.” Abaye’s eyes were on Homa. “It is too soon after Babata’s death for me to attend the wedding of a stranger.”
• • •
It seemed unkind to Homa and Abaye to express how delighted I felt about attending the wedding, so I said nothing. But after suffering with so many of Em’s stricken patients, I needed a celebration with dancing and a feast. The month of Adar had just begun, and the Rabbis taught that in Adar happiness increases.
Leuton’s hazel eyes, a tribute to her Roman-soldier father, gleamed with anticipation. It was unthinkable that a woman of my prominence would attend a wedding without a personal slave to serve her. Leuton, who cared more about my clothes than I did, insisted I wear my finest outfit. These were the blue silks Pazi had given me before she married my brother Tachlifa and the matching gold anklets studded with lapis lazuli. I had grown taller since receiving the tunic and trouser outfit, with the serendipitous result that the anklets were now clearly visible below the cuffs and would catch the light when I danced.
She took an inordinate amount of time to arrange my hair in elaborate curls and braids, the latter interwoven with blue silk ribbons, then made me close my eyes while she applied my makeup. When I looked in the mirror, I scarcely recognized myself.
“Leuton, you have outdone yourself. Aren’t you afraid I’ll outshine the bride?” I teased her. Of course a widow like me, in her midtwenties, would never outshine a bride still in her teens.
Blushing at my praise, Leuton pulled out the vial of labdanum and proceeded to anoint me. Hoping this would be another way for Rava to discern my feelings, I’d begun wearing the labdanum periodically since our argument over the love spells. He might have told Abaye that my perfume was of no concern to him, but the way he startled when he smelled me wearing it belied his words.
There was no mistaking his appreciation when I came downstairs. His eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped, only to immediately revert to a more respectful expression. Em’s eyes twinkled with pleasure, while Homa gave me a wistful smile.
With his elbow, Abaye prodded Rava, who wore a slightly large green silk tunic over linen trousers with matching green trim. “Aren’t you glad I had you borrow my clothes today?”
Rava did look handsome, although Tobia could have made more of an effort to tame his master’s hair and beard. “I hope Rav Yosef’s students behave themselves as well as they dress,” he replied.
Abaye nodded sympathetically and sent us on our way. Em waited to join several well-dressed older women, leaving Rava and me to continue on together.
I waited for Rava to say something about my outfit or perfume, but, to my surprise, he wanted to talk about Abaye. “I am worried that Abaye is having difficulty with his yetzer hara. Lately he has been gazing at Homa in a lustful manner.”
I rolled my eyes. “All men gaze at her that way.”
“I don’t.”
I had to admit that was true. “But Abaye hasn’t had the benefit of studying
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