Among the Living by Jonathan Rabb

with a shock of white hair, premature on a face that was at most in its early fifties. The wife was tall as well, elegant in the way she sashayed between the chairs and the tables, her husband’s hand gently nestled in the small of her back. Goldah saw the resemblance to Eva at once.
    The Weisses sat and Goldah turned to Fannie. “Do you mind?” He pointed beyond the booth.
    The table became quiet, and Pearl said, “Where are you going, Ike?”
    “I thought I’d introduce myself.”
    He felt Pearl’s hand on his arm under the table.
    “And why would you want to do that?”
    Goldah conjured the smile from this afternoon on the porch. “He wrote a very kind article about me. It seems only right to thank him for it.”
    Selma said to Joe, “Ike had lunch with Mrs. Eva De la Parra this afternoon.”
    “It wasn’t lunch, Selma,” Pearl said sharply. “She brought him some newspaper articles. That’s all.”
    “I thought you said —”
    “Ike was a newspaperman back in Europe.” Pearl’s eyes widened as if to say, Leave it alone. “It was the thoughtful thing to do.” Pearl let go of his arm. “You go right ahead, Ike. You be courteous.”
    Fannie slid out and Goldah moved into the dining room. He imagined he had Pearl’s eyes boring through him the entire way.
    The Weisses were in a booth, glancing through their menus, when Goldah drew up. He stood for several seconds waiting until Weiss pulled his reading glasses from his eyes and looked across the table to his wife.
    “That was easy,” Weiss said. “Ribs for me tonight.” He slid the glasses into his breast pocket and noticed Goldah. “Hello there.” Weiss spoke in a friendly way. “Can I help you with something?” Before Goldah could answer, Weiss said, “Oh, of course. It’s Mr. Goldah.” Weiss slid out and stood. He extended his hand and they shook. “What a pleasure to meet you. Are you here with friends tonight?”
    “Family,” said Goldah. “You’re very kind to recognize me.”
    “I like to look at a man’s picture before I write about him. I have to say yours was a tough one.”
    “I’m afraid I’m not the most photogenic.”
    Weiss said, “Allow me to introduce my wife. Marion, this is Mr. Goldah. I believe I might have mentioned him to you once or twice.”
    Her smile was far more reserved. “Yes, of course. Hello.”
    Weiss said, “And are you enjoying Savannah, Mr. Goldah?”
    “I am. Yes.”
    “Good. That’s good. You know I managed to track down some of the pieces you wrote before the war. The Herald Tribune. Some wonderful stuff. You were their native correspondent in Prague, is that right?”
    “I was. Yes.”
    “I did a stint with the New York Herald a hundred years ago. During my woolly years after college. I came back down to Savannah just as quick as I could. Not quick enough for some, but …” Another icy smile from Mrs. Weiss before Weiss said, “You know you’ve got a wonderful command of the language.”
    “Thank you,” said Goldah. “As do you. I’ve had the pleasure of reading several of your editorials.”
    “Yes, but despite what people might think, English is my first language. I was duly impressed, I truly was, especially for a man your age.”
    “You’re very kind.”
    “Kindness has nothing to do with it. Believe me. Would you care to sit for a drink or do you need to get back?”
    Had it been Weiss alone Goldah wouldn’t have thought twice about abandoning Pearl and the rest. But it was clear Mrs. Weiss had other plans.
    “That’s very thoughtful,” Goldah said, “but I wouldn’t want to interrupt your evening. Perhaps another time.”
    “I’d like that.” Weiss pulled a silver case from his jacket pocket and handed Goldah his card.
    Goldah said, “I’m afraid I haven’t had any printed up just yet.”
    “Not to worry. That’s the office and that’s the home. Feel free to call either.”
    Goldah said his goodbyes and the two men shook again. There was a last bob of