May We Be Forgiven

in the village. …’ They can make a PayPal donation—I’ll find out how you do it. Meanwhile, can you get a quote from Nate about his visit there and why this place is important to him?”
    “Sure.”
    “Write it down,” she says, tapping the blank pad of paper in front of me: “This is your to-do list. ‘Please Join Mr. Harold Silver and’—what’s the sister’s name?” she asks.
    “Ashley.”
    “‘Ashley Silver in celebrating the Bar Mitzvah of Nathaniel’—what’s his middle name?”
    “Ummm, Allan?”
    “Nathaniel Allan Silver on, let’s call it July 9 in—what’s the name of the town?”
    “Nateville.”
    “Nateville, how cute, South Africa. ‘Bar Mitzvah at Noon, Followed by Ceremonial Feast and Dancing.’ Do you know where in South Africa Nateville is?”
    I shake my head no.
    “What’s the biggest city?”
    “Durban”—I think.
    “We’re going to need a caterer, a rabbi, a band, and probably a refrigerated truck to get everything to the location, maybe a tent and air conditioning. What’s the temperature there in July?”
    “I think it’s their winter.”
    “I’ll find out.” She jots a note to herself. “What are you thinking regarding food? Roast-beef carving station? Omelets made to order? And what about the band? A Jewey klezmer rock group imported from the big city—you know, top hits plus traditional Jewish songs to a danceable beat? And we need to talk budget. I can dream all day, but I have no idea what you’re thinking.”
    “I’m thinking something a little more—what’s the word?—not exactly low-key, but taking advantage of whatever we can arrange right there in the village.”
    “Rustic?” she suggests.
    “Whatever we do should be in keeping with whatever the South African village traditions are and not too over-the-top.”
    “Is there, like, a hotel or a B& B in this village?” she asks.
    “I don’t know.”
    “You know,” she says, “you and I are working at a disadvantage right now.”
    “What’s that?”
    “We have no idea what we’re talking about. Have you ever been to South Africa?”
    “No.”
    “Me either,” she says. “But I have a couple of clues. Whenever I’m in slightly over my head, I ask myself, what would Lynne Tillman do?”
    “Who is Lynne Tillman?”
    She looks at me as if to say, you don’t know? “You know how Oprah works with Colin Cowie?”
    Again I have no idea what she’s talking about.
    “Colin is this amazing party planner who arranges events all over the world for Oprah, but Colin knows what he knows because he studied with Lynne Tillman.”
    “Also a party planner?”
    “No, she’s a writer, but filled with insight about why people do what they do, so Colin applies the aesthetic of Lynne Tillman to everything he does, which is what makes him so good. I was thinking I might reach out to Colin and see what he suggests—or I suppose I could call Lynne Tillman. It might help to get her opinion.”
    I nod, still not sure what it is she’s talking about.
    “Let’s move on for the moment to the gifties. In the past I’ve suggested things like the personalized yarmulkes, sometimes a personalized iPod—but that’s expensive, and most of the kids have them now. We do a lot of snow globes, baseball hats, T-shirts. … But in this case I’m thinking soccer balls that say ‘Nate 13.’”
    “That’s brilliant,” I say, genuinely excited for the first time.
    She takes my enthusiasm and runs with it. “And jerseys, baby-blue and white with felt hot-press letters with each individual’s name on them. Do they have electricity there? Is it the same alphabet?”
    “How much are custom soccer balls?”
    “We’ll buy them by the dozen. Do you want just shirts? Or shirts, shorts, socks? It would be nice if we got everything. Sneakers in a variety of sizes? And a couple of umpire things? Maybe we should get two colors of jerseys, half and half, so they can have teams?”
    “Better get it all,” I say.
    “For the girls too?”
    “Of course, everything equal.”
    She hands me another to-do list, my homework for our next meeting: (1) Address books, preferably in electronic format. (2) Ideas regarding content of service. (3) Do I want her to find a rabbi or not? (4) Budget?
    Cheryl comes in with a tray of coffee and cookies. We have a quick snack, during which Cecily, the travel agent, arrives. Sofia packs her box, leaving me with a pen and paper stamped with her info and logo: “Swa-Rei by