Chapter 5

“You’re Sasha Rothstein?” a man approached Sasha as she got out of the car.

“I am. This is my ... fiance, David Leland. This is ... Judge Trudy Randall. A retired family court judge,” Sasha suddenly felt real butterflies and a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“I’m afraid that I have ... very bad news for you, Ms. Rothstein. A neighbor heard a loud crash from the kitchen and went to investigate. They found your father, Ira Rothstein, dead with cuts all over his bodies, though many of them caused him little pain. He didn’t die of them. He had bottles of booze, hard liquor, everywhere, including the one that shattered all over the floor. He was rather clearly ... intoxicated. It’s pretty obvious that this was blood alcohol poisoning. He drank himself to death. You have my deepest condolences,” the officer informed him.

Sasha burst into tears and David pulled her close to hold her. All that Sasha could think was ... his pain was over ... my pain has just begun. Damn you, Mom! I don’t think that there’s a Hell. We Jews don’t believe in one, not most of us. If there is one, though, I would love to personally escort you to its gates. Don’t you dare show up for his funeral! I’ll have security remove your sorry, heartless ass!

“David ... in ... Judaism ... we hold services very quickly for the dead. Will you be with me ... for kaddish? That’s ... prayers for the dead,” Sasha asked her fiance.

“I would be ... honored, babe. Do you want Trudy there or not?” he replied.

“Yes ... she’s part of our ... family now, ain’t she? The three of us are lovers, after all. I know that she wronged him, but she made amends just before he died. I think that Daddy would want her there, too. I need her there, especially if Mom shows up,” Sasha wiped her tears and did her best to compose herself at the loss of her father, a man who deserved better, but at least had peace now.

“Ms. Rothstein, I know that it’s fast, but have you given any thought as to the disposal of the body? Once it leaves the morgue, that is,” one of the firefighters asked her now.

“We were just ... discussing that. I’m Jewish. Dad ... was Jewish. We need to have a funeral as quickly as we can. It’s ... tradition. If possible, though, I’d like to keep my mother away. She’s not welcome, as far as I’m concerned,” Sasha informed the man, her hate for her mother more than a little brazen.

“Wow ... that’s quite a ... breach in the family. But that’s unfortunately something that you’ll have to tell the rabbi, you know,” the fellow told her.

“I ... understand,” Sasha nodded, while David wiped away more tears and Trudy gave her a handkerchief.

Later ... at the funeral...

אֵל מָלֵא רַחֲמִים שׁוֹכֵן בַּמְּרוֹמִים, הַמְצֵא מְנוּחָה נְכוֹנָה עַל כַּנְפֵי הַשְּׁכִינָה בְּמַעֲלוֹת קְדוֹשִׁים וטְהוֹרִים כְּזוֹהַר הָרָקִיעַ מַזְהִירִים אֶת נִשְׁמַת פלוני בן פלוני שֶׁהָלַךְ לְעוֹלָמוֹ, בַּעֲבוּר שֶׁנָדְבוּ צְדָקָה בְּעַד הַזְכָּרַת נִשְׁמָתוֹ, לָכֵן בַּעַל הָרַחֲמִים יַסְתִּירֵהוּ בְּסֵתֶר כְּנָפָיו לְעוֹלָמִים, וְיִצְרֹר בִּצְרוֹר הַחַיִּים אֶת נִשְׁמָתוֹ, ה’ הוּא נַחֲלָתוֹ, וְיָנוּחַ בְּשָׁלוֹם עַל מִשְׁכָּבוֹ, וְנֹאמַר אָמֵן: