Jane Goes Batty by Michael Thomas Ford Page A

question.”
    “Is that what I’m doing?” said Ben, one side of his mouth lifting slightly, as if he were trying very hard to remain composed.
    Jane snorted. “Very funny.”
    Ben laughed. “You obviously haven’t met many Jews,” he said. “Or therapists. But we’re getting off track. Walter asked you to marry him. You said no.”
    “I said I
can’t
,” Jane clarified.
    “Can’t,” said the rabbi. “However, you’ve known all along that it would come to this. Which, by the way, brings us back to why you came here in the first place.”
    “Oh, I
know,
” Jane said, her frustration audible in her voice. “But that was before.”
    “Before?” Ben said. “Before what?”
    “Miriam,” Jane replied. “Before Miriam. When she was just his mother I could handle her. The
idea
of her. The reality, however, is not at all agreeable.”
    “A lot of women clash with their potential mothers-in-law at first,” said Ben. “It seems to come with the territory.”
    Jane shot him a look. “Are you married?” she asked.
    Ben surprised her by looking away. “I was,” he said. “My wife died giving birth to our daughter.”
    Jane felt terrible for having asked the question. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
    Ben held up a hand. “It’s all right,” he said. “You’re not prying. You thought I had no experience with mothers-in-law.”
    “No,” Jane objected. “I just … well, yes, that’s what I thought.”
    The rabbi laughed. “As it happens, my mother-in-law is a wonderful person,” he said. “And my mother loved Naomi very much. But I’ve heard stories.”
    It was Jane’s turn to laugh. “I imagine you have,” she said. She paused before asking her next question, afraid she might cause Ben pain by voicing it. “Your daughter,” she said. “Is she …” She fumbled for her next words.
    “She’s six,” said Ben. “Her name is Sarah.”
    Jane was suddenly overcome by sadness. She felt a tear slip from her eye. She wiped it away, but another soon followed. She couldn’t help but think about her own family, particularly Cassie. How she missed her sister. How she longed to have her there to confide in and to laugh with, to say “Do you remember when?” to, and to just be quiet with.
    “Would you like a tissue?”
    The rabbi’s voice jarred Jane from her thoughts. She realized to her horror that she had been crying freely. Her cheeks were damp, and her nose was running. “Yes, please,” she said, sniffing.
    Ben located a box of tissues and handed it to her. “There’s a Jewish proverb,” he said. “ ‘What soap is for the body, tears are for the soul.’ ”
    Jane blew her nose. “In that case, I seem to be having quite a good scrubbing,” she remarked.
    “My people specialize in grief,” Ben said. “If they awarded degrees in it, every Jew would hold a doctorate.”
    Jane laughed as she dried her face. “My people are just the opposite,” she told Ben. “Our upper lips are so stiff they prevent us from smiling.”
    “How did we get here?” asked Ben. “Oh, yes. Your potential mother-in-law and how the reality of her is far worse than what you’d imagined.”
    Jane sighed deeply. “I expected her to be protective of Walter,” she said. “But honestly, she’s like something out of an old Norse legend—or Grendel’s mother. Oh, and you should see her little dog, Lilith. She’s adorable, what with having only three legs and all, but what a little monster.”
    “Lilith?” Ben said. “That’s interesting.”
    “Why?” asked Jane.
    “In Jewish folklore Lilith is the name of Adam’s first wife,” Ben explained. “Supposedly she left him because she found him weak and stupid. Some stories say she was a demon with the feet of an owl, and that she came at night to suck the blood of children. Essentially, she was the world’s first vampire. If you believe in that kind of thing.”
    Jane considered this information for a moment. “And