too.”
“I’m aware of what tradition says it means, Jake,” she said, turning his words back on him. “But I’m not really Jewish. In spite of my mom’s best efforts I was a Hebrew school dropout. We didn’t belong to a synagogue because my father’s Lutheran. Didn’t belong to a church because my mother’s Jewish. We did light Hanukkah candles. In the years when the two holidays overlapped, we’d do it in front of the Christmas tree. I guess because I grew up with both, I don’t much believe in either. Maybe I’m missing the gene for religion.”
“Being Jewish is more than a religion. It’s a cultural identity.”
“So I hear.” She took a sip of her drink. “Shall we go sit down while you cross-examine me more about my spiritual and cultural background?”
He waved her into the living room and sat next to her on the couch. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to come across like the Spanish Inquisition. The menorah was a surprise. I assumed you knew I was Jewish, my name gives it away. But I didn’t know you were.”
“Your name and the Star of David on the chain around your neck. And maybe if I’d told you my middle name it would have given you a hint. It’s Rebecca.”
“There are lots of non-Jewish Rebeccas. Now, if you’d said it was Rivka … ”
“Actually, that’s what my mother calls me.” She sipped her martini. “So, are you culturally or religiously Jewish?”
“Certainly the former. Not so much the latter, although along with the rest of my family I belong to a synagogue.”
“Beth Israel would be my guess.”
“Your guess would be correct — from my great-great grandparents on. But I’m not a regular at services although every few years I give in to family pressure and show up for Yom Kippur.”
“The best we did was the occasional Shabbat dinner and Passover Seder with my grandparents. And, like I said, celebrated Hanukkah. I bet you did it all, even were bar mitzvahed.”
“Oh, yeah. Couldn’t escape that.” He laughed. “Or weekly Shabbat dinners and Passover with all the family — which is a big group, given that we’ve been in Portland since right after Lovejoy and Pettygrove flipped the coin to decide whether their city would be Boston or Portland.”
He looked at her over the rim of his cocktail glass. “Why don’t you come with me to my parents’ house some Friday for Shabbat? I usually try to make it there unless I’m on call.” He must have seen the panic in her eyes at the idea of meeting his huge extended family all at once because he quickly added, “It’s not the whole tribe on Fridays, just my parents and sometimes my brother, his wife, and their kids.”
“I couldn’t do that,” she said, shaking her head. She dropped her eyes to the glass she was holding so tightly she was afraid she might snap the stem.
“My family would love to meet you. They’ve been hearing about you for the last month and are intrigued. I’ve been told recently I don’t talk much about my personal life and they’re interested in the woman who’s suddenly made an appearance in my conversation.”
She wasn’t sure she liked the smirk that accompanied the comment. “Like, what’re you saying?”
“Oh, probably that I’ve been seeing this kick-ass woman who’s beautiful, has a fabulous body, kisses like she knows what she’s doing, makes love like … ”
“Seriously, Jake? You’re going with that explanation? Do you think that’ll get you fed and fucked?”
The gin he’d sipped from his glass was suddenly sprayed all over both of them. As he mopped up the drink with the cocktail napkins she handed him, he said, “So, that’s your plan for the evening? How very concise of you.”
“It got the reaction I was looking for, at least.” She finished the last of her martini, popped a couple almonds in her mouth and stood up. “Ready for the feeding part?”
“Baby, I’ve been ready for both parts for days. Lead the way.”
The evening was a success
“I’m aware of what tradition says it means, Jake,” she said, turning his words back on him. “But I’m not really Jewish. In spite of my mom’s best efforts I was a Hebrew school dropout. We didn’t belong to a synagogue because my father’s Lutheran. Didn’t belong to a church because my mother’s Jewish. We did light Hanukkah candles. In the years when the two holidays overlapped, we’d do it in front of the Christmas tree. I guess because I grew up with both, I don’t much believe in either. Maybe I’m missing the gene for religion.”
“Being Jewish is more than a religion. It’s a cultural identity.”
“So I hear.” She took a sip of her drink. “Shall we go sit down while you cross-examine me more about my spiritual and cultural background?”
He waved her into the living room and sat next to her on the couch. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to come across like the Spanish Inquisition. The menorah was a surprise. I assumed you knew I was Jewish, my name gives it away. But I didn’t know you were.”
“Your name and the Star of David on the chain around your neck. And maybe if I’d told you my middle name it would have given you a hint. It’s Rebecca.”
“There are lots of non-Jewish Rebeccas. Now, if you’d said it was Rivka … ”
“Actually, that’s what my mother calls me.” She sipped her martini. “So, are you culturally or religiously Jewish?”
“Certainly the former. Not so much the latter, although along with the rest of my family I belong to a synagogue.”
“Beth Israel would be my guess.”
“Your guess would be correct — from my great-great grandparents on. But I’m not a regular at services although every few years I give in to family pressure and show up for Yom Kippur.”
“The best we did was the occasional Shabbat dinner and Passover Seder with my grandparents. And, like I said, celebrated Hanukkah. I bet you did it all, even were bar mitzvahed.”
“Oh, yeah. Couldn’t escape that.” He laughed. “Or weekly Shabbat dinners and Passover with all the family — which is a big group, given that we’ve been in Portland since right after Lovejoy and Pettygrove flipped the coin to decide whether their city would be Boston or Portland.”
He looked at her over the rim of his cocktail glass. “Why don’t you come with me to my parents’ house some Friday for Shabbat? I usually try to make it there unless I’m on call.” He must have seen the panic in her eyes at the idea of meeting his huge extended family all at once because he quickly added, “It’s not the whole tribe on Fridays, just my parents and sometimes my brother, his wife, and their kids.”
“I couldn’t do that,” she said, shaking her head. She dropped her eyes to the glass she was holding so tightly she was afraid she might snap the stem.
“My family would love to meet you. They’ve been hearing about you for the last month and are intrigued. I’ve been told recently I don’t talk much about my personal life and they’re interested in the woman who’s suddenly made an appearance in my conversation.”
She wasn’t sure she liked the smirk that accompanied the comment. “Like, what’re you saying?”
“Oh, probably that I’ve been seeing this kick-ass woman who’s beautiful, has a fabulous body, kisses like she knows what she’s doing, makes love like … ”
“Seriously, Jake? You’re going with that explanation? Do you think that’ll get you fed and fucked?”
The gin he’d sipped from his glass was suddenly sprayed all over both of them. As he mopped up the drink with the cocktail napkins she handed him, he said, “So, that’s your plan for the evening? How very concise of you.”
“It got the reaction I was looking for, at least.” She finished the last of her martini, popped a couple almonds in her mouth and stood up. “Ready for the feeding part?”
“Baby, I’ve been ready for both parts for days. Lead the way.”
The evening was a success
Similar Books
