“Your breast have not grown Rebecca, I was sure they would grow by now.” Her grandmother did not even have her napkin on her lap before commenting- thus starting their holiday meal. “Are you sure she is eating at that school Chaim?” She asked Bekka’s father, “When I was her age I needed two bras to keep the boys off me.”

Bekka’s father, a reasonable man who knew far better than to contradict his own mother when the day had gone so well could barely keep his water down for the fear of sputtering all over his plate. “Yes mother, it is one of the best avalia-“

“But not the best.” Her grandmother cut him off, “Why is she not going to the best? Hrm?” Thankfully, blissfully she took a pause to drink before continuing, “She will never find a boyfriend if she looks like a plank of wood.”

Bekka’s mother, lips pursed began to doll out the supper for everyone’s plate. Having been married for the last two decades, she knew well enough by now to let her mother-in-law to vent her way out before dessert, less the entire evening be ruined. Bekka? (Or, Rebecca as she was called at home) kept her own head down during the rant, having snuck in a pen to write out factors on the paper she was hiding under the table. It was a traditional meal, rice spread across the bottom of the plate- soon to be followed by General Tso and Sesame Seed Chicken with egg rolls and crab rangoos on the side. No one used chopsticks.

“I have breast, grandmother.” Bekka finally looked up, “I just don’t flaunt them like I’m Miley Cyrus or your sister.” It was as much of a rebuttal as she dared, taking her own sip of water as she watched the words alter her grandmother’s expression, continuing only when no one else spoke. “Also, just because I do not marry my ex-brother in law, does not mean I do not date.”

Her grandmother was turning a vague scarlet by now, and as Bekka took her final bite of rice, having barely touched the plate, she stood and adjusted her skirt before addressing the family once more. She finished her short- albeit effective rant with thus, “His name is Gregorie Aristide LeClare. He’s Canadian.”
God help her, he was the first name that popped into her head.