Chapter Fifteen
S habbat dinner with Abe and Batya was supposed to be a welcome distraction from the barrage of thoughts running through his head. Except he had to go and ask Liv if she wanted to ‘explore what was going on between them’ at a barbecue party that didn’t exist.
Yet.
Because he had to convince Abe to host it.
“What’s up?”
He blinked, looked up at Batya as she brought the brisket to the table. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You were supposed to update me on the meeting,” she said. “And you’ve been making ridiculous noises all night. What’s up?”
Aah, right. He hadn’t spoken to Batya because he’d pulled an all-nighter and then ran off to Liv’s office to debrief before dealing with the pretzel of that meeting in Levitan’s.
“Come on,” Abe said, that undeniable expression on his face. “I made matzah balls, so you need to talk.”
Sacred reminders of their long-term friendship. He was, in fact doomed. Which meant he needed to spill. “I need help,” he said, getting to the point of the matter, “I might need you to create something.”
Abe raised an eyebrow and looked at Batya before turning back to him. “This is the most coherent you’ve been in a long time. Usually you beat around six bushes and expect me to dig under bush number seven for a surprise.”
“Sorry,” he managed. “I’m in a pickle.”
Abe raised an eyebrow. “Dill? Kosher? Bread and butter?”
“Kosher. Definitely kosher.” He swallowed. “Two of them.”
“Two of them, huh?” Batya asked as she brought the challah to the table. “Let’s make motzi over this beautiful loaf, and then you tell the story over dinner because I want to hear it.”
And so they said the blessings: first over the candles on the counter, then over the bread.
“Now,” said Abe as he passed the challah around. “Tell the story and then we’ll talk more.”
Artur proceeded to tell the story of what happened; about Liv, about working with her, the weird actions by the chamber of commerce and Leo…and his fascination with her despite all of that.
“Let me get this straight,” Abe said with a grin, and paused for dramatic effect.
Artur nodded, knowing he was in trouble.
“You need me to pull together a barbecue party.”
“Yes,” he said. “Maybe a way to, you know, try your recipes for new places and meet some people.”
Abe laughed; his best friend could see right through him. Hopefully the prospect of all of this was enough to make it happen.
“Right. And if I agree to do this thing…a random pop-up that’s accessible to you and a small group of people, I’ll be covering up the fact you’re asking this woman…the Mayor of Briarwood no less, on a date.”
Artur nodded. “Yes,” he said, realizing how ridiculous he was being. “That’s what I’m asking you.”
Abe didn’t respond immediately, which Artur would chalk up to his good luck, the timing, or whatever plan his best friend was forming in his head.
“So,” Abe finally said, breaking the silence and making Artur a little nervous. “What’s the catch? For me, I mean. What do I get out of it?”
“Yes,” Batya said; she’d been strangely silent, which was unlike her. He’d known her a long time, not as long as he’d known Abe, but long enough to know this was out of character for her and did not bode well. “I mean I certainly see the benefits for you, Artur, but what does my husband get for doing this?”
He had to think fast.
What could he give Abe and Batya that they’d accept? What could he do to justify this ridiculous favor?
And then he got it.
The one thing neither of them could say no to.
“How about this,” he said. Hoping this gamble would work. “You can invite a select number of people who will spend the time giving me the business? Me specially, and not her because this is…”
“A cover-up,” Abe replied. “Yes. I get it. You’re going to get the business of course, but from a select group of people of my choosing, who will meet her and behave, before giving you the business later?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Is that the offer on the table?”
Artur nodded. “Yes.”
“And when would you want me to do this?”
“Next weekend? I’m not that horrible a person.”
“You’re not horrible but you’re not as altruistic as you think.” Abe turned to Batya as Artur waited. “What do you think?”
Batya took another slice of the brisket. “I think we might be able to pull this off. A fun barbecue party before I take off for a bit and you get deep into work?”
“A fun pop-up thing.” Abe nodded his head and Artur realized this was going to happen. Which surprised him, but also relieved him.
“I like this,” Abe continued before turning to Batya. “Who do we ask?”
“Leo, Sapna, Claire and her girlfriend…”
“Whose name we don’t yet know,” Artur pointed out, as they fell into conversation about their old High School Quiz Bowl teammate.
“Claire isn’t sure whether this is serious,” Batya interjected. “So she’s waiting. It’s like a meeting-the-parents vibe. Speaking of she’s…do you think the mayor will want to bring people?”
“She’s got two cousins and a sister,” Artur replied. “So possibly three, six, somewhere in between.”
“That works,” Batya said. “But also, Sarah and Isaac, Anna and Jacob.”
“Any permutation of those,” Artur replied. “And Sarah might be a draw.”
Abe raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
Batya shook her head. “Were you not listening when he was talking about how it seems he needs a Hanukkah festival consultant, but don’t call it a festival because Briarwood is full of snobs. And we’re in Rivertown so we can say that.”
Artur wasn’t sure which line he liked better. “And this is why I adore you.”
“I thought it was the challah.”
“My brisket, her challah and my matzah ball soup. Anyway, back to business.”
“Yes?”
“Party. Pop-up. Invite her. Introduce her.”
Difficult questions answered on a Friday night. All he had to do now was wait for Liv to give him a response.
*
Liv barely made it through Shabbat dinner before her sister dragged her outside to her parents’ back deck.
It was still a beautiful view, even with the chill setting in, and a glass of wine that her sister made her bring.
“Now,” Naomi said. “What’s going on with you? Exactly.”
“I’m debating a really bad decision.”
“Are there any good choices these days?” Naomi asked, shaking her head. “And this is you, so it can’t really be that horrible.”
“It’s worse than you think.”
“Does it involve bailing a bolted bride’s mother out of jail after she assaulted the groom’s mother and half the wedding party for daring to insinuate the bride eloped with her girlfriend? Even after she sent wedding photos to her very happy former fiancé from Las Vegas?”
Liv blinked. “That is…”
“Tell me about it,” said Naomi as she turned on the fire pit. “Never have I seen a woman in such denial. So, is it worse than that kind of nonsense?”
“No,” she admitted. “It’s not.”
Liv met her cousin’s eyes, and the inspection there. The searching for a particular problem was going to drive her nutty. “Is it something that would make you…step outside the cage you’ve put yourself in?”
“It’s not about a cage,” she said. “I mean the last time I admitted to a personal life, it got used against me in ways that still have repercussions. I don’t know how to act; I can’t trust my instincts and I don’t want people close to me to get hurt.”
“People close to you, as in who? Your family who loves you? Who?”
“Naomi,” she said with a long, extended sigh. “Can you not make me inventory the people in my life who I think might get hurt by my choices and instead help me… I don’t know, try to deal with the fact that it’s okay to choose?”
“Yourself? Your right to feel something? Your right to add people into your life? What? Or rationalize why it’s better to keep people out, because if you didn’t want to let someone in, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Am I right?”
Liv didn’t answer, and Naomi nodded.
“Right. So how did this start, and yes I remember hearing about that one Shabbat where Flaire and asked if she could take the space from the rabbi’s sermon to introduce herself to the congregation, which was probably the beginning of the end for Flaire, which led to that horrible proposal, and the reason this guy is there.”
Liv told Naomi the story, ending with: “So yes. I wish I wasn’t completely affected by the way he’s taken this whole thing on his shoulders. He’s not only brandishing a sword but he’s falling on one. He shouldn’t have to.”
“You know,” Naomi said with a laugh, “if I were someone else, I’d ask you where this Liv was when Judith was talking about the importance of people’s love lives.”
“Don’t remind me,” she said. “Besides. I’m not actually making bad decisions yet, just debating this.”
“I want to know who was manifesting the treat and the bad decisions then,” Naomi said. “Because you’re rarely, if ever, on the verge of making choices that you’re concerned will make people remember you have a personal life outside of politics.”
“All of this is the prelude to the decision.”
“Okay,” Naomi said. “So, you’re on the verge of making what you think is a bad decision, which is most likely related to a relationship that may or may not be professional and something you might potentially want to make personal. Am I right?”
Liv nodded, trapped into a conversation that was getting deeper and deeper by the second. “Yes,” she said. “You are.”
“And what bad decision is the problem here?”
“He’s invited me to a barbecue pop-up at his friend’s house in Rivertown.”
Naomi blinked. “I did not ever expect to hear words like that coming out of your mouth, but also I barely expect to hear those words strung together.” She paused for a second. “Guy’s from Rivertown?”
“Yes?”
“Friends with Judith’s boss?”
“I don’t know the guy, and I don’t know Judith’s boss. All I know is that his best friend is the barbecue guy who’s going to open a restaurant and he’s testing recipes and he, the fixer, invited me to the pop-up.”
“Sounds familiar,” Naomi continued, in that irritating way her sister had of connecting things that were entirely too disparate. “Kosher barbecue?”
Liv nodded. “Yes. Again, he, the fixer…”
“If you’re going to call the guy anything, you should use his name. What is the guy’s name by the way?”
“Artur,” Liv said. “Don’t know the friend’s name but the fixer is Artur…”
“Who is, in fact, the fixer Leah’s looking at for her client, and knows Judith’s boss. Which meant his friend catered Ash and Judith’s b’nai mitzvah party but can’t do their wedding.”
“Who did you go with for the wedding, by the way?” Liv wondered, trying to get her brain off of the web of connections she’d walked into.
“Someone who my boss has used before. Kosher et cetera, et cetera. They’re paying through the roof for this, but it’s good I guess.”
Liv nodded. “Got it.”
“So, are you going to the pop-up or is that the decision you think is the bad one?”
She could tell her sister even if she couldn’t admit it to anybody else. “I want to,” she said. “I really want to. But it’s a horrible decision.”
“Livvy,” Naomi said, putting down her wineglass and crossing over to where she sat.
Naomi’s embraces were wonderful, and Liv let herself be swept up into her sister’s arms. “Livvy,” Naomi said again. “It’s dinner. It’s not the downfall of your political career. Who knows.”
But it never was just dinner. Nobody ever invited someone to ‘dinner’ without strings. Ever. She separated herself from her sister and sighed. “The chamber of commerce is watching me, and him. They called us to Levitan’s to make sure we were making professional progress after the meeting yesterday. If I go, and someone sees me…”
“This is a pop-up by someone who just finished creating the barbecue recipes used at Levitan’s. Isn’t he someone who could possibly be convinced to open something more permanent in Briarwood? If nothing else, think of it as a business expedition,” her sister said, her eyes flashing.
“It’s complicated,” Liv said, knowing she really didn’t want to be. “It’s always complicated.”
“Life is complicated, as is love,” Naomi replied. “And don’t even think about it.”
But despite her sister’s warning, she did in fact travel down the ridiculous rabbit hole that had been the disaster of her love life: guys who almost derailed her career before it started, guys who thought it was a horrible idea for someone her age to run for office, others who asked her out only to pitch her an event in the middle of a fancy restaurant. Not to mention the man who turned the chamber of commerce into her own personal watchdog.
But all she said was, “Just because not everybody is McManus, doesn’t mean my life or my instincts aren’t affected by it. I don’t need this event to destroy both my life and career, Mimi.”
“You’re using the nickname,” Naomi said. “That means business, so business I shall give. This is dinner. This is a very carefully planned invitation to eat food you already like. Worst comes to worst, you eat the food and don’t discuss it again.”
Only hours later did she realize she hadn’t taken the opportunity to quiz Naomi on her own love life, or even admit that she’d decided to say yes.
That is, if Artur remembered to ask her again. If she had to bring it up, it was fate. Because the bottom line was that she couldn’t initiate anything. Too much was on the line for her to remind him if he hadn’t had the intention to begin with.