Chapter Nineteen
S amuel found it difficult to focus on work after he’d texted with Leah.
We should go.
Leah wanted to go somewhere with him outside the contracted set of events.
Whoa.
Was forgiveness within his grasp? Was a conversation with her about their future within his grasp?
Was a real future with her within his grasp?
He didn’t know. What he did know was that Liam’s party was coming up and he was getting to the end of their scheduled events, which meant renegotiation and a conversation.
He hoped.
As he started to try and focus on the list of commissions, his phone buzzed. It was Liam.
“Hey,” he said when he answered the call. “How can I help you?”
“Do you have time for me? I have a work project to talk to you about.”
And of course, for Liam, work meant BP, aka BananaPants.
When he’d first gone to art school, Samuel had dreamed, like every single person in his major, to go to work for one of the big companies, the ones whose comics he’d read as a kid. And like his father, Samuel’s big comic obsession was BP. His life path had gone differently when he fell in love with alphabets and lettering styles that even the Jewish-founded BP would never ever want to put in the middle of a comic book.
But all he could manage to tell his mentor was: “Absolutely.”
“Good,” Liam said. “I’m in an office space. And take a breath, man. You’re ready. You knew this was coming.”
Samuel did but, in all fairness, hearing Liam talk about how he’d been preparing him for bigger things was different than actually being told by his mentor that those things had arrived.
Thoughts ran through his head as Samuel got on the subway and headed to the Manhattan address.
Liam was waiting downstairs. “Come on up,” he said.
He passed the posters, the statues and the promotional models—the things that made it clear this was a BP-owned building. The history in this building was making his head spin faster than it already was.
“Take a breath,” Liam said as they got off the elevator and headed toward what looked like Liam’s office. “Sit down, have a soda.”
Taking the advice, and the soda, Samuel settled down in the chair in front of Liam’s desk. “I’m here,” he managed.
“You are,” Liam replied.
He could feel his feet in his sneakers on the ground, his jeans on the chair seat, his back against the comfortable chair back. Grounding himself.
“I have a project for you. But first you get background.”
Samuel nodded. “I’m all ears.”
Liam nodded, grabbed a folder. “So before I start, you need to know that this conversation didn’t happen if you don’t want to do this. There will be NDAs signed before the project is revealed.”
He knew that; it was part and parcel of doing business. And that made things difficult most of the time, but it was important. “Go ahead,” he said. “I’m excited.”
“So for the last few years, people have been asking about a different angle for one of our properties after a certain MoviePix property you might know did well.”
“I assume you’re talking about Goldstone?”
The Goldstone Saga, Melanie Gould writing as MG Emerson’s series of historical romances about a British-Jewish family turned television juggernaut. The work he’d done for it had changed the course of Samuel’s career, making him believe that there was a place for him in more mainstream lettering.
But what made Samuel think, was that the lead actor in the adaptation was Sam Moskowitz. Amongst other things, Sam Moskowitz was famous for playing the character of Mr. Shadow in the recent movie adaptations of the Shadow Squad comics.
Was this for the oft-discussed Mr. Shadow’s origin series?
Liam nodded, either oblivious to or ignoring the strange expressions that had to accompanied the random thoughts in Samuel’s head.
“But yeah. Goldstone changed a great deal, or at least opened a few doors. Which meant that suddenly this new angle on an old property was feasible. We tested it out in comic form first, and it did really well.”
Yep. Samuel was convinced, this was going to be Mr. Shadow; he’d seen the comics and the stories that surrounded them. Especially considering the comics were put together by an all-Jewish team. He felt like he was going to fly off the chair, but he held himself back. “This sounds good.”
Liam snorted. “You need a poker face,” he said. “Because I can see the deductions and problem-solving running through your head as if I were inside it.”
“Sorry,” Samuel said, suitably chastened and embarrassed all at the same time.
“You can’t bottle your enthusiasm,” Liam said. “You’re excited about this, and no I’m not confirming or denying until you sign. Anyway, back to the story. The comics sold so well, the decision was made to move the project from comics into a limited series format.”
Unlike some of the other companies, BP hadn’t started playing with television yet. Which meant this was even bigger news. “Television?”
“Yep. Poker face,” Liam said as Samuel found himself laughing again.
“Sorry.”
“No worries. Anyway the company’s been looking for a way to experiment, if you will. And this is it.”
Which was fascinating.
So the Mr. Shadow origin series was going to be BP’s first foray into television.
Fascinating.
So many questions ran through Samuel’s mind, one of the many being whether Sam Moskowitz was going to be involved.
“Wow. This is fantastic.”
“Again,” Liam replied, grinning, neither confirming nor denying. “But yes. It is.”
“So…” Samuel managed. “What part do you want me to play?”
“That’s easy,” Liam replied. “We want to do a series of custom posters to tie the comics into the television series, taking it from the first series to the starting point of the new one.”
Which was something that Samuel had never expected. Lettering for BP in this way. But all he managed was: “Story art in poster form? That’s wonderful. A collectible series?”
“That’s the idea. And we’re hoping for an all-Jewish team to pull this off. Jewish writers got the concept, a Jewish artist doing main; heck I lured Oliver back to do colors.”
“Oh wow,” Samuel managed, feeling and sounding like a broken record.
“Right, it’s exciting stuff,” Liam said. But then he paused, and the expression on his mentor’s face made him feel as if something huge was about to happen.
“But here’s the thing. To do this right, we need a good, strong Jewish letterer.”
And there it was. The payoff, not exactly the offer but enough of one at this point, with all of this information and an NDA possibility, it felt like an implied offer, if not a full one.
All the same, Samuel couldn’t contain his excitement. “Oh wooow,” he said, knowing in fact , that he’d become a broken record.
“There’s a catch though,” Liam said, as if he’d sensed Samuel’s eagerness. Then again, Samuel figured it was pretty obvious how attractive this idea, even in theory, was. “So you have to think about this.”
“Thinking,” he said with a smile. “But I need to know what the catch is before thinking further.”
“See this is special. We…want to lean in to the idea of making this series, this poster, a commitment to Jewish fans, bits of Easter eggs tied to Jewish culture…”
“Afikomen, you mean. Not Easter eggs.”
“Right,” Liam said with a smile. “Can’t be Easter eggs if we’re talking Jewish content. Yes, a-fi-KO-men. Right. Anyway. So one of the things we want is the kind of lettering that’s traditional. The stuff you do when you’re not working on posters.”
“You mean,” Samuel said as if he needed to double-check the words coming out of Liam’s mouth, “you want me to mix and match and incorporate microcalligraphy, for example, with comic lettering?”
“Yes. Exactly. We want these posters to scream ‘we’re not playing’—show that Jewish content, this story and these characters mean something to us. Which is why we’d need you. You in?”
He wanted to say yes immediately, on the spot. Wasn’t this the culmination of his work up until now?
The training on both sides—the lettering and the sofering (if that was even a word?)
It felt almost too good to be true.
Except he’d been around the industry—creative industries in general—long enough to know that projects like this one always, without fail, were not only complex, but also came with strings, no matter how clear the ideas seemed at the outset There were schedules and the workload of his other projects and commitments to take into account.
Including the offer from Virginia of the Sefer Torah.
Which he had to respond to in some fashion, and soon.
But Liam didn’t need to know that. What he did need to hear was more concrete. “When do I need to make my decision?”
“Think about it. I’ve got to do a bit more finessing on this end to get all the loose ends tied up. When I get that done, I’ll call you and we’ll talk more about things. But more importantly, you’ll be at the party this week?”
Samuel nodded. “I will be.”
“And you’re bringing the girl you took to comic con?”
Samuel nodded. “Leah. Yes.”
“Good. She’s family. Don’t mess it up.”
Samuel laughed. “Funny thing. Trying to figure out how to fix it if I do?”
“All I know,” Liam said with a laugh, “is that you have to be prepared to talk, to make yourself look silly to make her smile. Friend of mine walked around in the middle of his girl’s hometown wearing a menorah on his head to convince her how serious he was.”
“That is…”
“It’s what she needed,” Liam said. “I know someone else burned his fingers trying to make a necklace, let alone how he agonized over the engagement ring because his girl would know bad from good jewelry.”
Samuel nodded. “Do what she likes. You mean? Learn her language?”
“That is exactly what I’m saying,” Liam replied. “Don’t tell her what I talked to you about. But everything else. You know.”
He did. At least he hoped he did. He’d find out if he could manage it all without losing his mind as they approached the party.
Not to mention, it wasn’t strange that the first person he wanted to talk to as soon as he got this news was her?
Was it?
Even though he couldn’t be anything more than vague about it?
All the same, he wanted her to share his excitement, even if he couldn’t exactly explain why he was excited.
*
Looking forward to it. Goodnight.
Leah’s entire world had been changed by those six words.
At least that’s how it felt.
Tangled threads looked braided, and she’d typed words that she could no longer take back.
Her head was spinning.
Misguided invitations and so many other things were going on.
Luckily, Thursday was an office day and there were things she needed to talk to Bruck about; unfortunately something she’d seen online that morning had reminded her how important it might be to have a crisis PR rep on call to deal with any issues that arose with the Empires once Carly made it clear she was trying to join the team.
As she was making her list, her desk phone beeped twice, indicating the office intercom.
“Leah?”
“Hi, Bruck,” she said after she picked up the receiver. “What’s going on?”
“Can you come to my office? I need to talk to you about something.”
She smiled. “On my way.”
Thinking about timing and threads, her smile turned into a grin as she headed down the hall. “Hey,” she said as she walked into his office, “you wanted to see me?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a few things to talk about,” Bruck said.
She nodded, settled into the chair in front of his desk. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“Good. I like that you’re prepared. Anyway, I heard back from my contact about the betting company?”
“Oh great,” she said, taking the notes; athletes were getting more and more intertwined with betting companies and it was important to know the details no matter what she felt about them. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
“Not a problem,” he said. “Anything else on your mind?”
“I actually have another question,” she said.
“Okay,” he said. “Talk to me.”
“I’m starting to play phone tag with my contact at the Empires about one of my clients. Long story short, there was a two-party contract, with the major party being public, but the minor party being private until such time as the client’s ready. Client is ready and the minor party, which has always been the Empires, is going to take over.”
“So Carly’s ready?”
She wondered how she could have thought Bruck wasn’t paying attention to her, her business or her clients. “Yes,” she said. “Spoke to her a few days ago and she confirmed, so phone tag.”
“Great,” he said. “Oh I forgot to ask you about the gala. How was it?”
Of course, the gala had been on her mind…heavily. But Leah had a feeling her boss didn’t want to hear about where her lips had been, or who she’d spent the night with and the day after texting.
Which meant she had to pull herself together. “Good,” she finally said. “They did a great job; the speeches were wonderful.”
“Glad to hear it. I wanted to go,” he confessed, “but my wife had other plans. But anyway…so Carly told you she’s ready. Glad the news hadn’t gotten out.”
“Oh,” she said, smiling again. “Not our first time on this merry-go-round. We had the conversation in private, and you’re the first person I’ve really discussed it with.”
Bruck’s nod of approval was everything.
But she couldn’t let him know that, not when he was still considering her for partnership.
“That’s good,” he continued, as if he hadn’t noticed her reaction. “Especially with news like this. Do you know what kind of PR they’re going to do with this?”
“Well,” she said. “Funny thing.”
“Oh?”
“I wanted to see if I could add something in the contract about putting a crisis PR rep on call to handle whatever issues, whether social media or otherwise, come up. Do you have any thoughts on the matter, or do you have any ideas on people you think who can pull it off?”
“That is interesting,” Bruck said. “Let me shake some trees, see if we have some contacts for that. But I like the idea. I think based on the situation, that asking for it should be a bare minimum request of them.”
She nodded. “Yeah. There are a few other things, which I’ll run by you later, but I wanted to get this out first.”
“Good. What are you thinking about in regards to the deal? Terms?”
“One way, major only. You put her in the minor, and this, what she’s going through to do it, I don’t think, isn’t worth it.”
He shook his head. “You sure?”
“She would have made the team a few years ago, on an open tryout,” Leah replied, her rationale clear in her head. Not to mention her confidence in Carly. “And yes, it’s been a bit since she’s worked out heavily enough, but it was less time between her finishing the Legends season and stopping for maternity leave than her injury and the tryout.”
“Well,” Bruck said. “It’s a risk. It’s definitely a risk. Then again, as you pointed out, dealing with what she’s going to deal with to play is also a risk.”
Leah nodded. “Not to mention her brother-in-law wants to play with her as an Empire before he retires.”
“He does?” Bruck raised an eyebrow. “Is he pressuring her?”
Leah would have laughed, but family was family. And she knew how well that went; there was pressure and then there was…something else.
Which was when she realized she’d been avoiding her sister, but that was another story entirely.
“He’s encouraging her,” she said. “There are so many reasons stacked against her, but Chris is doing his best to remind her that there are reasons and people in her corner. Which is lovely.”
“That is nice,” Bruck said. “He’d be going to the media?”
“He doesn’t want to make it a circus.” She paused. “She’s also going to change her name.”
“She changing her name? Really?”
Leah nodded. “One of the things Chris has talked about, and it stuck in her head, was that a lot of the conversation in hockey are about hockey families. And as a gift or a surprise or whatever, and maybe an understanding? She’s changing the name on the back of her jersey to Emerson when she plays for the Empires.”
“I like that,” Bruck said. “Give the Empires a bit of history. First brother and sister-in-law to play on the same team. Nice. Okay.”
And as they continued to chat, Leah was excited.
And at the same time, she couldn’t wait to tell Samuel.
Which was strange. But she’d go with it.
As long as she didn’t text him.
*
Samuel fought the battle against texting Leah for hours. He’d managed to succeed through dinner (random knishes ordered from Greenblatts) and a bunch of commission work.
Once again, he made a note to tell his brother how glad he’d been that the names of the people he was working for were left out of his notice. Because even though he wanted to know who he was doing these for, he was glad he didn’t.
But eventually, he lost the battle and texted Leah.
How was your day? I got good news I can’t share but I’m excited.
Which was a confusing message, he realized, but he hoped she’d get it. In some way, shape or form. And instead of pondering over what she was going to say, he put the phone down, within arm’s reach of course, and went back to work.
Eventually, his phone buzzed, so he put his quill down and picked up the phone.
Leah.
Oooh. Good news?
He couldn’t tell her. He wanted to. But he couldn’t. So he settled for something that made sense, at least to him.
Good news I can’t talk about.
He went back to the mezuzah, carefully inscribing the text onto the piece of parchment.
Eventually, his phone buzzed again.
Leah.
I’m confused.
So he wasn’t as clear as he thought he’d been. Finally he decided on something else, something more specific that he hoped would make sense.
Industry things. It’s good.
This time he held the phone, watching the dark circles dance in front of his eyes until they materialized into an answer.
I’m glad. It was a good day for me too.
Even better. Not just another request for clarification, but an actual conversation piece.
But the dots were still dancing in front of his eyes.
When’s the party?
Which on a Monday night, made sense to ask. So he took a chance, hoping she’d go along with it.
Thursday. Come over to my apartment before?
Samuel’s heart pounded in time with the moving dots as he waited for the answer. Would she tell him no? Would she agree? Would she…
Debrief? Maybe talk a bit?
He almost dropped the phone, most likely lost his mind for a moment, if nothing else lost the tether of string keeping him close to reality for as long as it took him to process what she’d texted.
She. Said. Yes.
Sounds good. See you Thursday.
And he sent the text before he did something silly, like ask if she wanted to plan the outing to the museum. Or maybe discuss the past.
*
On Tuesday, Leah had to acknowledge that her head had been a full on mess since she’d texted with Samuel on Sunday night and sent that misguided invitation.
What had she been thinking?
It was bad when it was just ‘let’s go to the museum’—something she could have forgotten; heck, it was simply a thought bubble of an invitation that he didn’t turn into reality.
But she had to make it worse on Monday night by saying that she’d love to debrief and talk before the party.
What the hell had she been thinking?
The problem, of course, was that she hadn’t.
She’d been fantasizing about her fake boyfriend, at the worst of all times—when she should be prepping to talk to the contracts department at the Empires, playing phone tag for Carly.
Leah had to do something. Thankfully, Naomi had called, saying that Liv had tried on a few dresses at the shop in Crystal Harbor and was impressed, and could she come over.
Usually, bridesmaids dresses weren’t her favorite way of spending time, but a mid-week break from the city was exactly what the doctor ordered; it got her away from a place where she’d be tempted to text Samuel, and keep her on her toes because she’d be around relatives.
Not to mention she liked the shop where she’d bought her dress for the gala; and Chava the tailor was lovely.
When she arrived, she saw that Shayna had come along to give Ramona a chance to try on some matching flower girl dresses.
“Is this the last bunch of dresses we’re trying on?”
Naomi shrugged. “First bunch Liv tried on, so who knows.”
“And,” Shayna said with a laugh, “our little pint-sized fashion critic has opinions as well.”
Leah nodded, considering the implications of Ramona’s fashion sense. “As long as we don’t look like look like cream puffs or Medusa or…”
“You’re all right,” Naomi said. “But Leah is closer to where we’re going. Judith’s the star and as long as the bridesmaids don’t look like the gorgon sisters and Ramona doesn’t out-glitter rainbow anybody, we’ll be fine.”
And as the parade of dresses began, Leah found herself thinking of Samuel, how it would feel to have him there with her, giving her opinions, maybe showing up unexpectedly there at the shop like he had the last time she was there, putting his hands on her shoulders, her waist…
“Leah?” Naomi’s not so dulcet tones broke into her train of thought. “You’re not here and we need you.”
Leah shook her head before she realized her cousin couldn’t see her through the dressing room door. “Sorry.”
Which she was. Unfortunately, the break in her thought process forced her to acknowledge that she’d been fantasizing about her fake boyfriend again.
And that was dangerous.
Because as much as she wanted to tamp down her emotions, and if nothing else ignore them, they were intruding. Again.
Not only intruding, but bubbling up and exploding inside of her.
And that led to one inescapable conclusion.
Leah wanted the real deal.
She wanted an actual go of it with Samuel. A real, actual, real-life, adult-sized try with him.
And that terrified her to the point where she had to hold on to the wall of the dressing room.
Which made her finally ask the question that had been bugging her. “I wonder…how you know if it’s real.”
As soon as she verbalized the question, she remembered where she was. Not in her apartment or her office or anywhere else that guaranteed her a speck of privacy.
She was in a public dressing room and she’d expressed this ridiculous, impossible question to her cousin, with her sister-in-law somewhere nearby.
Which meant she had to pull it back.
And yet she knew very well that it was too late; you couldn’t put toothpaste back into the tube and this wasn’t something she couldn’t just suck back into her mouth. At least she’d said it in the dressing room because otherwise she’d have ended up with her cousin, possibly her sister-in-law and possibly her little niece staring at her like pumpkins or Cheshire cats or whatever.
She got that anyway. Or at least she’d end up with the verbal equivalent.
“What?” Shayna, her eagle-eared sister-in-law, was the one who said something, her voice the equivalent of a hammer piercing something with a nail.
“Go change,” Naomi said, sounding hurried and, as usual, focused on the task at hand, which was the dresses. “We’ll talk about this later, because of course we really need to talk.”
Which meant though Naomi was focused, she wasn’t letting this go. Not at all.
And later did in fact come, after more dresses, and a moment where a little four-year-old who’d gotten a very glittery dress, was dropped off into the care of her father and brother.
A table, one large Cupcake Stop cupcake for each of them and her cousin and her sister-in-law were staring at her.
She’d ordered an americano, hoped it took forever to arrive, but that night, Cupcake Stop was faster than usual. The drinks arrived, and left her no more time to stall.
And nobody was giving her a chance to breathe.
“What?”
“There’s a story you need to tell,” Shayna said. “Because you said you wanted to know how ‘it’ was real. The it I’m assuming you’re talking about means love? Relationships, yes?”
Knowing she wasn’t going to get out of this, Naomi nodded. “Yes.”
“So what do you mean specifically?” Naomi asked. “What’s the it you want to be real?”
Leah sighed, and admitted it: “Love.”
“So,” Naomi asked, “what you’re asking is how do you know when love is real?”
Leah nodded, took a bite of her cupcake. “That’s exactly what I said, but both of you should probably realize how much I actually want to discuss this, which is not at all.”
“You’re kidding,” Shayna said with a snort. “Two things. We’re family, and I’ve been running interference for you.”
“Yes,” Leah said. “I’m very aware and even more grateful, which is why, you know, I’m even talking in the first place.”
“Good,” Naomi said, “you’re improving on this conversation thing.”
“Right,” Shayna said, continuing the conversation like it was her right. “So. You want to know when love is real. I mean, not to put too fine a point on it, you’ve been doing a pretty good job demonstrating it the last few weeks with Samuel. I think you’re doing just fine.”
“Yeah,” Naomi said. “You’ve been hot and heavy with Samuel since the photo exhibit.”
And that was when she couldn’t take the pressure of holding this secret back any longer, and the dam burst, words pouring out of her as if she were Niagara Falls. “It’s fake.”
That was when Naomi’s jaw hit the table, but it was Shayna who spoke. “I am fascinated by this whole thing,” she said. “You really went through the trouble of setting up a fake relationship?”
Leah nodded. “Yeah. We have a contract and everything.”
Naomi shook her head. “When did this start? After the wedding expo and the photo exhibit?”
Shayna raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”
Leah took a sip of her hastily ordered espresso, and told the story of the wedding expo and explained what had happened at the photo exhibit that same night. “And then basically a bunch of things happened—invitations, circumstances, where it just made sense to…fake a relationship. And so he made us a contract. So yeah.”
“Well,” Shayna continued, “at least now we know why you were asking about the difference between real and fake. But my question is why exactly did you think fake dating would be a good idea?”
“It was convenient,” she said. “Samuel was there, he needed me, then I needed him, so we decided to use each other for a prescribed period of time and when it’s over, things were supposed to end without a scar on either of us.”
“I’m trying to find a place where you explain why you didn’t tell me before, but we’ll get to that later,” Naomi said, making Leah feel guilty and nervous simultaneously. “For now, I want to know why Samuel was such a good choice.”
Of course it was Naomi who got to the heart of the matter.
“Because we shouldn’t be together,” Leah finally said. “We were a horrible idea. I mean let’s face it. In those movies, or books where couples fake-date, nine times out of ten, they don’t know each other when they start. And these couples end up a fake fail because during the process of dating, they discover each other, even though they don’t know the pitfalls of dating or even knowing this particular individual. So they learn the good parts and…poof . Real feelings come up. With Samuel, he was a bad idea, and I knew from the beginning exactly why he was a bad idea. There was supposed to be no poof. No reason why there should be real feelings.”
Both Shayna and Naomi snickered in a way that made Leah uncomfortable.
“Right. So you did your research—read books and watched movies and TV shows about fake dating, and you decided that you’d outsmart the trope and be the exception,” Shayna said. “Except here you are, asking your cousin and your sister-in-law if they can recognize real love.”
“While you’re trying on a bridesmaids dress, no less,” Naomi said.
Adding insult to injury, was the fact that Leah had decided she was not going to poke at Naomi about Jason. Nope. She was going to be good. For good or evil, she’d brought this subject up in the first place, and she was going to be stuck with it. “Fine, fine,” she said. “Poof might mean acknowledging real feelings, not just them existing.”
“Because,” Naomi added, “look at it this way. Feelings, emotions, love, are the complete opposite of rational. They show up when you least expect them or want them to. They’re a mess.”
Which made Leah sigh. “Fine,” she said. “So I may have caught real feelings, and am in the process of having my poof moment.”
“Which,” Shayna said, “makes me think that all along, the real question you’re asking is how you make this fake situation real. And that’s with trust. You need to trust him and tell him how you’re feeling.”
“So,” Naomi added, “what are you going to do about the fake fail moment you’re having? Are you going to tell Samuel you want something real or…?”
“I’m supposed to see him in a few days,” Leah said, addressing both her interrogators at once as she figured out how to answer their questions. “We’re going to a birthday party.”
Naomi said, “Which doesn’t answer the question your sister-in-law, or I asked. And maybe that’s something you need to think about?”
Leah sighed. Honesty was probably the best tactic she had at the moment, and though she didn’t really want to admit her feelings, she was going to have to if she was hoping to survive this. “I don’t know,” she admitted, being as careful as she could. “I don’t know if I want to actually do anything about the feelings. I almost lost my mind when I texted him about going with him to the MMJH. We’re not a good idea and yet I can’t handle this…”
“Can you please listen to yourself?” Liv asked. “You have these ideas about him because of who you were and who he was back in high school. Both of you have changed since then. Both of you are different people.”
She found herself remembering the conversation she’d witnessed him having with Josephine Bruck. Maybe he had changed, found his voice enough to use it on behalf of people he cared about?
“Maybe?”
Shayna shook her head; apparently her sister-in-law had morphed into some wizened expert. “You’re way past maybe. Heck; you’re already talking about including him in things.”
Which was true. She’d never send a text like that if she wasn’t in some way ready to talk about the past, her feelings and making her fake relationship real. Even with all of its…foibles and treachery.
And that led her to one inexorable conclusion. “You’re right,” she told her sister-in-law.
“Excellent.” And after Naomi left to head back to Manhattan, Shayna grinned at her. “I will,” Shayna said, “at some point expect to see him at Shabbas dinner or dessert or something later. Because I can’t keep you insulated from the family gossip forever.”
“It’s something we planned for,” Leah said. “But I promise you’ll be the first to know when I schedule it.”
“ When ,” Shayna said, grinning. “I like the sound of those words. And that would make sense, considering we’re hosting your family Shabbat.”
As she headed back to Manhattan, Leah started to think about Samuel and about their situation. Did she have the words to actually talk about what had happened all those years ago? Was she actually capable of seeing the incident through the eyes of adults looking at something under hermetically sealed glass?
She wasn’t sure yet, but one thing she did know, was that she was going to see if she had the right words to initiate the conversation about the past so they could move forward. Because even if she wasn’t yet ready, she needed to be ready soon.
Her heart, and what it wanted, depended on it.