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Let it never be said that Amy Santiago ever does anything by halves. If there had been a superlative titled “most thorough” at her high school, she would have won it. There wasn’t, because they weren’t as thorough as she was. If she’d been in charge of superlatives, that would have been one of them. (As it was, the yearbook committee hadn’t taken her very thoughtfully worded suggestion into account. But she was over it. Really. She was totally over it.)
So when she goes before the Beit Din one sunny day in May (and no, before you ask, she isn’t doing this because of Jake, but that’s neither here nor there) and Rabbi O’Neal (yes, O’Neal) asks her what her next steps are, the only reason she doesn’t pull out her binder is because she wasn’t technically allowed to bring notes before the Beit Din (and it wasn’t like she was going to break a rule like that!).
But she does say, with as much confidence she could muster, “I’m going to celebrate becoming a bat mitzvah, Rabbi.”
She knows it’s not exactly typical. She’s over twenty years older than most girls are when they celebrate becoming a bat mitzvah (and no, it’s not “having” a bat mitzvah; a bat mitzvah is something you become, not something you have – a bat mitzvah ceremony is something you have).
Rabbi O’Neal exchanges a look with Rabbi Feigenbaum, and for a moment, Amy is terrified she’s said something horribly wrong (even though she knows she hasn’t), but then Cantor Peretz says, “My wife celebrated her bat mitzvah at the Kotel when she was twenty-five. She didn’t have a chance to do it when she was younger,” which makes Amy feel a little bit better.
“I feel like a bat mitzvah ceremony is a great idea,” Rabbi O’Neal says. “It’s not uncommon for Jews by Choice to make that decision on their own. And I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that there’s a lot of work involved.”
“Oh, I already have a binder full of research. My parshah is Ha’azinu.”
Jake is waiting for her when she comes out of the mikveh, even though she told him he didn’t have to come, and he gives her a big hug and a kiss. Even though she doesn’t say anything, she’s pretty sure her wet hair and grin are a dead giveaway, and Jake says,“Ames! Mazel tov!”
She kisses him back. The high she feels right now is better than the feeling she gets when she solves a case (well, most cases, anyway). She is, as of five minutes ago, officially – halachically – Jewish.
And Jake really didn’t have anything to do with it. She probably would have done it without Jake, at least eventually. It’s not like Jake is super observant; his mom has them over for Passover every year, but he’s also like, enthusiastically into Christmas. Amy doesn’t think that’s really a bad thing. It’s just really not her thing. Not anymore, anyway.
Besides, Jake knew what he was getting into when he married her. She knows he’s seen the binders. He’s seen her at her most high strung and intricately planned. Passover next year is going to be perfect. (No, Amy’s not going to cook. She knows better by now than to try to cook for Passover!)
“Thank you,” she says.
“We should definitely celebrate! Wait, are you more Jewish than me now?”
Amy laughs. “I’m pretty sure we’re both equally Jewish now.”
“Are you sure about that?” Jake asks. “I’m really only, like, half Jewish.”
“I’m sure,” Amy says. “But I think the rabbis and cantor are still in there, if you want a second opinion.”
“Nah,” Jake says. “I trust you.”
Jake takes her out for a celebratory lunch at what he claims is the best Jewish deli in Brooklyn. She’s never really known him to seek out Jewish food, but it’s a sweet gesture. She has to stop him from ordering one of everything on the menu, though the matzo ball soup is delicious.
She knows Jake expects her to totally lean into this – well, more than she already has, anyway. She really doesn’t think that he’ll be all that surprised when she tells him, concretely, that she wants to celebrate becoming a bat mitzvah. (She would have told him before, but she really didn’t want to jinx anything; she’d felt confident that it was the right time to go before the Beit Din, but what if it hadn’t gone well? She had a contingency plan for that, and it did not include a bat mitzvah ceremony).
She decides to just say it outright as Jake digging into a blintz. “Rabbi O’Neal said she’d work with me to help me prepare for my bat mitzvah ceremony.”
It takes him half a second. “Wait, Ames, are you – you’re having a bat mitzvah?”
“A bat mitzvah is something you are, not something you have, but I do want to have a bat mitzvah ceremony.”
“And party?”
She knows Jake has a thing about bar and bat mitzvah parties. She’s pretty sure everyone knows Jake has a thing about bar and bat mitzvah parties. It’s not like he’s subtle about it.
“Of course,” Amy says. “I mean, it’s not going to be a bunch of hormonal middle schoolers, but – I thought it’d be fun. And it’s a rite of passage, really. At least in America.”
Jake looks like his birthday has come twice this year. “Shit.”
“I don’t want it to be huge,” Amy says. She’s an adult, after all, and she doesn’t need some big lavish party. But, well, a DJ and her friends and family together isn’t too much to ask for.
“I have the best bar and bat mitzvah playlist,” Jake says.
“You do?”
“Ames. Come on. Look at who you’re talking to. Of course I have the best bat mitzvah playlist. And I know you probably already have a DJ picked out, because I’m sure it’s in the binder you definitely have somewhere, but… my playlist is better.”
Amy laughs. “Oh, is it?”
“Definitely. Without a doubt. I’ve been to so many bar and bat mitzvahs, and I have great taste in music.”
“I’ll ask the DJ to play your playlist,” Amy says.
Jake reaches across the table and kisses her. “You won’t regret it.”
She doesn’t actually regret it.
Honestly, the DJ is just about the farthest thing from her mind when it comes to preparing for her bat mitzvah. She has to lead the service and chant Torah and give her d’var Torah and it’s a lot to prepare for. It’s not like she thinks she’s going to fail, but she’s also not a middle school kid whose biggest commitment outside of this is homework.
She’s an adult with a job.
And not just any job. She’s a sergeant in the NYPD. It’s not like she can just sit around and study at work.
So it takes longer than it would take someone in a less hectic job, but she’s still prepared ahead of her own schedule. She meets with Rabbi O’Neal to finalize her date, and it starts to sink in that this is happening.
“What if I screw up?” she asks Jake that night. He’s paused Real Housewives for her, so she knows he’s actually listening.
“Ames,” he says gently, pulling her close, “you’re gonna do great. Trust me. You’re gonna blow everyone away with the most thoroughly researched d’var Torah anyone’s ever seen. Rabbi O’Neal will probably ask you about applying to rabbinical school after it.”
She laughs. “You’re right. I shouldn’t worry so much.”
“Title of your sex tape.”
She swats at him. “Jake.”
“Rabbinical school…” he says. “Is it terrible that the idea of you in rabbinical school is kinda turning me on right now?”
“No,” Amy says. She wouldn’t go to rabbinical school, though. She’s perfectly happy with the career path she’s chosen, even though it’s not always ideal. She’s trying her best to make the world a better place, at least a little. And if she gets to occasionally take down a criminal with her bare hands… that’s not the worst thing in the world.
“Rabbi Santiago. Oh. I like that.”
Amy kisses him. “Do you?”
“I do. I really do.”
“Well, I’m not going to go to rabbinical school, but… you can call me rabbi any time you want.”
Jake grins and kisses her.
She leads the service without any missteps, and recites her torah portion flawlessly. Her d’var torah is well-researched and perfectly written; she doesn’t slip up once. She gets a “yeshar koach” from both rabbis, the cantor, Karen, Jake, and (most importantly) Captain Holt, and a “congratulations” from virtually everyone else.
She lets herself soak in the praise, though she obviously gives Rabbi O’Neal and Cantor Peretz the credit they deserve for helping her out. She could never have gotten this far without them, and she wants to make sure everyone knows it.
The party afterward is just in the synagogue’s social hall. She didn’t see the point in having a huge party at an exclusive venue; really, if Jake weren’t so excited about it, she’d have probably been happy to go out for drinks at Shaw’s after the service.
It isn’t like she’s having the party for Jake, of course. She isn’t too modest to celebrate her successes (on the contrary). She knows exactly how Jake would run the party on his own, in no small part because of his incessant suggestions (most of which she ignored; she was never going to wear one of those tacky, synthetic dresses from the 90s for her very grown up adult bat mitzvah celebration!).
Her dress is simple, age-appropriate, and classy. Jake can’t take his eyes off of her.
“You look beautiful,” he says.
“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.”
“Seriously, Ames. I’m so proud of you. You were awesome today. I mean, you seriously crushed it.”
Amy pulls him into a hug. “Thanks.”
“I wish you could’ve seen me during the actual, like, ceremony part of my bar mitzvah. I was awful. My voice was cracking and it was just –” He pulls a face. “Not good.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“You’re only saying that because you weren’t there. Gina was there. Ask her.”
Gina, appearing as if from nowhere, says, “Oh, god, Jake’s bar mitzvah was the worst. And that’s before the Jenny Gildenhorn fiasco.”
“Who breaks up with someone at their bar mitzvah?” Jake asks.
“I mean,” Gina says, “your d’var torah left a lot to be desired.”
“Thanks, Gina,” Jake says.
“You’re welcome.” She floats off, and Amy and Jake an exchange a look.
Amy laughs. “I’m sure Jenny Gildenhorn didn’t break up with you because your d’var torah wasn’t good enough. I mean, it was still awful of her to do what she did, but I'm sure that's not why.”
“Eh, I’m over it,” Jake says.
Amy raises an eyebrow.
“Okay, it’s still, like, really shitty. But – I don’t mean to brag – I kind of have the most awesome wife ever.”
“Only kind of?”
“Hey! Love birds!” Gina shouts over the music. “It’s time to play Coke and Pepsi!”
“You said you wanted the authentic bat mitzvah experience,” Jake says.
“I play to win, Peralta,” Amy says. “You’d better not let me down.”
“Please,” Jake scoffs. “Remember who you’re talking to.”