Chapter Ten
S amuel spent the entire drive to Briarwood on edge; the weekend was going to be busy, not the usual ease of Shabbat at his parents’ house.
And there was Leah, in the same town, probably having discussions over challah and wine with her family.
Yet the discussion at the table was easy, the conversation contrary to everything going on. Even more wonderful, the Union were playing baseball on a Friday night, which meant his father and brother-in-law were glued to the television.
“Can you stop yelling at the announcers?” Tommy asked from his usual perch next to his father-in-law. Samuel’s father and brother-in-law could talk baseball in general, and the Union in specific, for hours.
Samuel himself was a casual fan, not as steeped in the analytics of the situation as either Tommy or his father. “They’re clearly biased,” he scoffed. “I can’t help it.”
“Maybe you can leave and help me instead?”
His mother stood just by the doorframe, smiling at the assembled crowd, Aaron having gone upstairs to organize some things the second dinner was over.
Annoyed that nobody else was getting up to help, and glad to lend a hand, Samuel turned to his mother and smiled. “Coming,” he said, leaving Tommy to watch the game with Samuel’s father, unencumbered by his opinions of the announcers who clearly favored the losing team, the ones not wearing the Union’s pinstripes.
As they headed into the kitchen, his mother looked in his direction and shook her head.
“What?” he asked. “You have this look on your face.”
“Well that’s because you don’t look good,” she said once the door to the kitchen swung closed. “What’s wrong?”
He blinked. “I’m fine,” he said. “Really.”
“I know my son,” she said pausing to ruffle his hair.
He was in his thirties and his mother was ruffling his hair. He sighed, shook his head and smiled. “I’m fine.”
“Is it your dating life?” she asked, as if she hadn’t heard him speak. “Do you need me to set you up? I know nice people.”
He sighed. This was the conversation he’d expected from his mother earlier in the day when he’d first arrived in Briarwood, telling her that he was going to have a busy weekend. “I’m fine, Ma, but you…” He trailed off and then pulled himself together. “You have a son who’s happily married, Ma. What’s going on? Why this now?”
“You mistake me,” she said.
He nodded, gestured with his hand. “So tell me. Why this now?”
“I want both my sons happy ,” his mother said, before pressing the start buttons on the dishwasher and turning toward the coffee maker. “Married, single, with grandchildren, grandpets…doesn’t matter.”
He nodded. That was reasonable.
“And you?” His mother patted his shoulder before rolling up her sleeves. And wiping down the counter. “You are not happy.”
“I’m fine, Ma,” he repeated. “Really.”
His mother shook her head. “I’m your mother. You cannot fool me.”
“He’s stressed, “Aaron said as he entered the room. Of course his brother would have something to say about commitments and stress. “He’s overcommitting himself with no real plan because he’s afraid.”
“I’m enjoying myself,” Samuel said, trying to explain what was going on to both his brother and his mother. “I’m finally at the stage of my career where I’m doing what I’ve always wanted, not just one thing…”
“You’re getting noticed,” Aaron said, as if he was explaining life to both him and his mother. As if Samuel didn’t understand his own life or career. “Just don’t enjoy it too much or you’ll end up stuck in a place you don’t want to be.”
“I’m fine,” he insisted again. “I’m finally figuring things out.”
“See that you do,” his mother said looking back and forth between them. “Both of you need to go to your separate corners. Give each other a break. It’s Shabbat.”
In the brief silence, Samuel could hear Tommy and his father yelling happily at the television.
Yep. It was Shabbas.
Life, he decided, no matter how busy he was, was good.
*
Event Two: Unicorns hockey practice
Location: Briarwood, JCC, Briarwood New York
Purpose: Soft launch for the relationship in front of Leah’s family/professional inspiration and networking for Samuel
Leah was excited.
Her niece, Ramona, had wanted one thing for her fourth birthday: hockey lessons. And considering that one of ‘Auntie Leah’s’ clients was a founder of one of the most famous U-4 girls’ hockey programs, Auntie Leah was able to deliver.
Which was why she stood in the parking lot, waiting for her sister-in-law.
Once they arrived, Ramona, her newly minted four-year-old niece raced over, her arms outstretched. “I get to play hockey.”
“You do,” Leah said squeezing her niece. “And it’s okay to have fun and…”
“I’m going to play forever,” the determined little girl insisted as they headed into the building.
“Thanks for this,” Shayna said, hefting the bag that held Ramona’s hockey things. “She hasn’t been able to talk about anything else.”
“It’s the least I could do,” Leah said. “I hope she likes being on the ice.”
Shayna laughed. “Nate and Shim have been taking her skating to break the skates in for the past few weeks, and they haven’t been able to get her off the ice. I suspect she’s going to be in heaven.”
“I am,” Ramona said, a broad smile on her face. “Auntie Leah, I’m going to score a goal and wear a tutu.”
Leah grinned at her niece. “You’re going to score a goal in a tutu, huh?”
Ramona nodded, a serious expression on her face. “I’m going to wear a tiara and a tutu and score a goal.”
Leah smiled. “You can do anything,” she said.
Ramona beamed as she headed toward a group of girls chattering in the hall.
“Gotta go in there,” Shayna said. “But I have to ask. What’s up with Samuel?”
Leah sighed, but remembered what Naomi said. She owed Shayna. “We’re exploring,” she said. “We’re exploring how dating feels after all these years.”
Shayna raised an eyebrow. “Look,” she said. “You will forgive me if I don’t believe you. What I do believe, and won’t push about, is that you seem happy. Whatever the hell is going on with the two of you, just promise me that you won’t let the pressure get to you.”
“Pressure?”
What the hell was Shayna talking about, pressure?
In response, Shayna adjusted the bag on her shoulder. “Judith has been sniffing out information like it’s her job, and Naomi seems to be cagey. Which means she knows something. Everybody wants to know what’s going on, not to mention you and Samuel are known to have a difficult history.”
Difficult was putting it mildly, and it seemed Leah owed Shayna her firstborn. “I mean…”
“But anyway,” Shayna interrupted. “All of that? What I just talked about? That is pressure—the stuff outside. But the stuff outside isn’t what matters. What does is what sits between you two.”
Which was true if she was talking about a normal couple and their normal relationship. But she and Samuel were complicated and, at the end of the day, Leah wondered if what sat between her and Samuel were a bunch of tangled threads and a contract. But she didn’t want to tell her sister-in-law that. What she said was: “Okay?”
“Good.” And then both she and Shayna heard Ramona’s excited wail. “I think I’ve got to go.”
As Leah watched her sister-in-law head into the dressing room with her niece and the huge bag of equipment, she heard the alarm on her watch go off.
Samuel was going to arrive soon.
And she wasn’t sure what to make of it.
*
On Saturday afternoon, Samuel found himself getting out of his car, on the passenger side, at the JCC. His plans, including driving Leah back to the city, had gone out the window when his brother’s car needed to go to the shop.
“Thanks for letting me borrow the car,” Aaron said with a laugh.
“Not a problem,” Samuel said. He was looking forward to what was going on inside, after all. “Keep me posted on where you are, and I’ll let you know when I’m done.”
“I will,” Aaron said. “No sure what our plan is, but I’ll keep you posted.”
Which was Aaron’s way of saying ‘don’t wait up.’
Which made sense; Aaron and Tommy had plans for the day, which was why Aaron had said comic con wasn’t an option. And transport wouldn’t be a problem; mass transit and rideshare existed.
And as he headed into the rink, he bumped into someone. “I’m sorry,” he said.
Until he realized he’d run into Bryce Emerson. Bryce Emerson was many things: a sculptor, a painter, a multimedia artist who became famous when his art had been featured in a music video. Now he made goalie masks and silly T-shirts and sculptures that fetched a great deal of money at auction.
And Bryce was standing in front of him at the JCC.
“You’re Samuel Levine?”
He picked up his jaw from the floor. “I am. I’ve been following your career,” he said, the words flying out of his mouth faster than he could catch them. “You might say I’m a bit of a fan. I like how you work in different mediums…”
“Like recognizes like,” Bryce replied, much to Samuel’s amazement. “The jewel of it all is how similar the things you style are.” He paused. “When my wife asked what mezuzah we wanted, I said I wanted the scroll to be one of yours.”
This was…beyond words. He’d eventually have to thank his brother for instituting a business model that separated him from the names of his clients. No wonder his brother had an inflated opinion of his business prowess.
Because now, he was standing in front of an artist he admired…who was telling him he was not just a fan but owned something he’d designed. “Wow,” Samuel managed. “You’re kidding me.”
“Not kidding. Not at all. In fact, do you think we can talk about possibly making something together?”
Without a pause he nodded. “Yes,” he said, trying to keep from losing his mind. “I’d love to see what it would look like to have my…style of calligraphy on a mask or…whatever.”
“When you go to watch a four-year-old girls’ hockey practice,” Bryce said with a laugh, “interesting things happen. Why are you here?”
“My girlfriend,” he said without thought. “Her niece is doing the practice, and I’m doing a logo for a ceremony…”
“Hold on,” Bryce said. “You’re dating my wife’s agent?”
“Your wife is represented by Leah Nachman?”
Bryce nodded again, and Samuel felt the bunch of strings that tied him to Leah tighten. “My wife, Carly, is repped by Leah. So you’re dating Leah, hm?”
He nodded, letting the words sink in. “I…am,” he said. “We’re figuring things out.”
“Good to hear. She’s a good person. And she’s been good for my wife. And you’re doing the logo for the Tzedakah Exchange gala?”
“With my mentor, yes. I’m going to get some ideas about the energy for the logo, you know?”
“I do. I really respect that.” Which felt fantastic to hear from Bryce, someone whose career he respected. “How about this? We have a design session out at my place in Rivertown on Monday? Bring your mentor and whoever else he has working on the logo.”
Which was a wonderful invitation, except he felt strange accepting on Liam and Oliver’s behalf. “I’ll talk to them. I’m actually seeing them at comic con.”
“Oh wow,” Bryce said, and the awe in his voice made Samuel feel strange in a way he couldn’t quantify. “Comic con. Anyway, let’s go watch the practice and we’ll touch base later.”
And as he and Bryce headed toward the rink, yet again, Samuel found himself thinking about the twists and turns his life had taken. And that he was enjoying every minute.
*
Leah was sitting on a metal bench in June. It was cold, which meant she had a cardigan. On the other side of the glass were a group of young kids, including her four-year-old niece. They were skating along, wearing tutus, and learning how to skate around cones.
The cones, however, were larger than the usual cones used in these sorts of hockey drills, covered in sparkles and had one distinct horn, because the skaters had been charged with avoiding harming the ‘unicones’ in their path.
“I’ve seen people talk about it,” Leah admitted. “And I’ve seen a few practices, but this is absolutely wild to watch.”
“The important part,” Shayna said, a huge smile on her face, “is that she’s having a blast.”
And sure enough, Leah could see the twinkle in her four-year-old niece’s eyes under the plastic shield of her helmet as she came around to try her luck to avoid harming the so-called ‘unicones.’
Which was the best possible thing that could have happened. “I’m so glad,” Leah said.
Carly, her client and one of the founders of the program, nodded, the pride obvious in her voice in a way that made Leah giddy. “I love how the program’s succeeded over the years, and I love how people have come to enjoy it.”
“It’s such a great thing,” Shayna said, as if confirming and affirming Carly’s statement at the same time. “It introduces hockey and makes it available to girls of a younger generation than we would have otherwise.”
But as Carly and Shayna started to discuss specifics of how to actually get Ramona set for the September start date to what would be her program, Leah found herself heading down to the side of the rink. There, the boards and the rails atop them gave her a place to lean and stand. Watching this practice was fun .
This was the first time in a while where she was watching a hockey practice because she wanted to. She wasn’t watching for clients or prospects or potentials. She was watching her niece, like her nephew before her, play the sport for the very first time, and learn something she’d take time getting to know.
“They’re wearing tutus.”
She didn’t have to move to realize that it was Samuel; she’d already established that she could recognize his voice anywhere. Now he sounded surprised, but the greater, deeper surprise was the fact he was there standing beside her, his arms folded on the rail. But instead of telling him to move his hands out of the way like a freaking nudgy nudnik, she nodded. “That they are.”
“They’re playing hockey wearing tutus?”
Once again, he sounded surprised, which meant she needed to nip that in the bud. “I told you they’d be wearing tutus,” she said, trying not to roll her eyes. “What they’re actually learning is how to handle a stick. The tutus are a value-added benefit.”
“You did tell me. I wasn’t sure how it would look is all,” he said, holding his hands in her direction, palm out, as if he was a traffic guard. “They look like they’re having fun, so it doesn’t matter.”
Satisfied she didn’t need to lecture him, she nodded. “Exactly.”
“What are those?”
She followed the direction of his fingers, toward a group of skaters who looked like they were wearing something strapped to their helmets.
She looked at it for a minute, and then realized what it was. “It looks like a unicorn horn,” she said. “I think they’re meant to help the kids get used to the feel of a helmet on their heads, and also help them find some balance.”
His smile was easy. “Horn’s the added benefit?”
“You catch on quick,” she said with a laugh. “Innovative ways to teach some of the most basic fundamentals.”
“I’d say this is innovative, but that’s why they’re winning this award, right?”
Leah shouldn’t have been surprised at Samuel’s insight, but she was all the same. “Yes,” she said. “Not all U-4 girls’ hockey programs should look like this, but this one does. The girls who play on this program like the added elements. There are other programs, but this one is going to be right up my niece’s alley.”
“It’s fascinating,” he said. “Great to watch and the logo should be that gorgeous too.”
She nodded. “These are little girls who…don’t have to decide between hockey and tutus, between crowns and swords. They probably, like my niece, saw an older sibling play, got jealous and there they are.”
“There they are,” he said. “I like it. They look like they’re having fun.”
“I think they are,” she said. “Are you?”
“I just got here, and I’m not going to, like, sugarcoat the fact that I like watching with you, and…”
“What else?”
“Bryce Emerson wants to collaborate with me. You represent his wife?”
Leah nodded, feeling the pull of those freaking pieces of string. But instead of saying that, she shoved it aside. “Interesting,” she said instead. “But now, let’s watch some little girls fall in love with hockey.”
And she wasn’t, under any circumstances, going to fall in love with him. Again.