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chuppah, the wedding canopy, wearing jean shorts and a white bikini top, her veil flowing. I’m heading toward her, propelled by this crazy swelling in my heart, this feeling I might burst. My legs are like jelly, and I’m almost at the end of the aisle. I’m so close I can almost hold her hand. Just a few more minutes, and I’ll get to kiss her. Suddenly I see Ima, Abba and Neshama staring at me.
    Ima gasps and falls into hysterics.
    Neshama shrieks, “That’s so disgusting, Ellie. You want to do IT with a girl?”
    “A shonda ,” Abba booms, “my Ellie with a shiksa !” He spits. “Feh, feh, feh.”
    Only Bubbie is happy. “Serves your crazy parents right.” She laughs, her mouth getting bigger and bigger until it turns into a black hole swallowing up the guests. Even Lindsay disappears into the vortex.
    When I try to go home, Neshama stops me. “Don’t you know? They’re sitting shivah for you. Do you know how much baking I had to do for your mourners?”
    Lightning will leap down from the heavens, rivers will flood, tornadoes will spin. There will be locusts, hail and fire. First born children will suddenly perish, which means Abba, Ima and Neshama will all die slow and agonizing deaths.
    “No!” I leap up. Then I drop down to the ground, nervous energy ratcheting through me, and manage five measly push-ups before I collapse, panting.
    I find Bubbie down on the dock. “Mini-golf, let’s play mini-golf.”
    She looks up from her book. “Now? Isn’t Lindsay coming over soon?”
    “Yes, let’s go now.”
    “Do you want to see if Lindsay wants to come?”
    “No! I mean, let’s just go.”
    “Did you two have a fight or something?”
    “No, I just thought we could do something, the two of us. Mini-golf and ice cream.”
    “Okay, okay, let me just get changed.”
    I get Bubbie’s keys and hat for her while she puts on shorts and a T-shirt and freshens her lipstick.
    “Hurry.”
    “What’s with you? It’s not going to close or disappear.”
    I only relax once we pull onto the highway.
    Mini-golf turns out to be even stupider than I expected, a little ball in a little hole, with silly obstacles. An ornamental plastic farmer and his wife swing over the final hole. One more happy pair.
    Lindsay comes over in the evening. I’m sitting on the dock with my prayer book, trying to do the evening prayers I haven’t done since I got to the cottage.
    “Where were you this afternoon?”
    “Mini-golf.”
    “I thought you hated ball sports.”
    “I do. Mini-golf isn’t a sport.”
    “Well, do you want to go for a paddle now?”
    I glance over at her freckled shoulder, her deep bluish green eyes. Say no. Say you don’t feel well. “Um, sure.”
    I go up to the cottage to get my life jacket. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
    When I come back down, Lindsay is standing on the dock, the fading sun lighting up her hair like fire. Run away, just run away and leave. I slowly make my way toward her, but instead of getting in the canoe I dive into the lake, the cool water stopping the sick feeling charging through me.

Three
    F or the next two weeks I spend the mornings alone. I never go over to Lindsay’s. Instead I wait until she comes over, which is usually every afternoon. We paddle around the bay and into the marsh, or swim off one of our docks. If it rains, we play Monopoly or gin rummy with Bubbie. The mornings get cooler, and the adult loons have left their babies behind.
    Today, Lindsay calls to ask me to go canoeing. After our paddle, we lie on her dock in our swimsuits. The sun scorches my skin. “How long are you staying?” I ask.
    “We’re supposed to leave next week. You?”
    “The week after next.”
    Only one more week to try and walk like Lindsay, match her snappy answers. Only one more week to stare at her breasts when I think she isn’t looking. And an eternity to hate myself for doing it.
    Lindsay rolls over and her hair tickles my shoulder. I brush the hair away from my shoulder. I pause,