Chapter Eighteen
A fter a good conversation with Abe, at about six thirty, it was determined that the time had arrived for the show to begin. All of the setup crew from the quiz bowl team had arrived, including Sapna who’d dropped off her and Leo’s daughter at a friend’s house for the night.
Now, the stage was set.
Sapna was pouring drinks to keep herself from the snack table that Batya was manning, Claire was preparing the dessert table, with her girlfriend Natalie in tow. Which meant he and Leo were sent to the front. Their job was to direct the arriving cars toward good spots. They wore safety vests with fluorescent strips and carried flashlights.
So far, it had gone well—there were open parking spaces along the street and the neighbors had been notified; some of them had offered either driveway space or space in front of their houses in exchange for some food.
Which was a price that Abe had been very willing to pay.
By 7 p.m., the first bunch of guests had arrived; Sarah and Isaac as well as Jacob and Anna went to the back, trying to help in some way. Tony Liu, an attorney who worked with Jacob and his wife Charlotte, a chef, restaurateur and baker who got to know Batya and Abe through the Latke Fry-off, were also there. If he had to guess, Charlotte was probably trying to help with, if not take over, the dessert table.
“It’s not work,” Charlotte had said as she carried the cake she’d been asked for.
But in the back of his mind, Artur inventoried cars and guests; a partner from Abe’s old accounting firm even showed up.
And yet Liv still wasn’t there.
Until, that was, an unfamiliar gray SUV arrived, the driver following Leo’s flashlight toward a space down the street.
“Must be her,” he thought to himself.
“Did you not complain about house duty because you were waiting for someone to show up?” Leo, who had returned to their post after directing the car, decided to respond to something Artur hadn’t actually said out loud.
But with his luck he’d actually managed to say it out loud, which meant he had to own it. “What if it was?”
Leo shook his head. “You ridiculous buffoon,” he said, an inch away of rubbing his head. “And you know that if I don’t say it, someone else will.”
“Yes,” Artur replied. “I’m well aware that you’re not the only person willing to discuss my frailties and foibles.”
“Good.” Leo clapped his shoulder, punctuating the statement. “You deserve to be discussed and analyzed in all ways and forms. Because it’s important for your existence and morality.”
Artur shook his head. “Of course it is.” Because that was the sort of interrogation that came with friends who mattered. Who cared about him, and who he cared about in return. He’d kept them both in line over the years; he knew they’d do the same and didn’t expect any less.
And when Liv walked up the driveway behind a couple, he found himself shoving his hands in his pockets, not from the cold, but from the want of something to do with his fingers.
“Go get the girl you’ve been waiting for,” Leo said, jabbing him in the back like they were in fifth grade, trying to do something ridiculous.
The other part of having friends like Leo was they understood your language—spoken and unspoken, which is why he didn’t smack him like they were ten when Leo said to go find…her.
Of course, that was the moment where she stood in front of him, gorgeous under the lights in a way that took his breath away. “Hi,” he managed when he could pull himself together.
“Hi,” she said.
She was someone who usually had a bunch of words to use in most situations, but here, standing in front of him, he could see she didn’t.
Which meant he had to jump into the conversation and make something clear before she headed into the backyard. “I’m apologizing in advance for this.”
She raised an eyebrow, and he hoped she wasn’t going to jump into whatever car she came in and leave before she entered the party for real. But now it was his time to watch her pull herself together, to reel in her emotions and put them away where they belonged.
“For what?” she asked.
“For my friend’s immature behavior caused by the inability to not introduce you.”
The noise he’d heard from her was a strange one; he’d guess it was a combination of a laugh and a snort. Or something. “Well,” she said, clearly taking the reins of the situation. “Olivia Nachman. Mayor of Briarwood, invited guest. You can call me Liv.”
“Leo Fratelli,” Leo interjected, taking the offered hand like the gentleman he was capable of being. “Friend of this dude, and friend of the dude whose house this is.”
There was silence, and the Look on Liv’s face was…
He had to do something.
Quickly.
But his friend was smart; they’d known each other forever.
“No matter what other capacity you may know me in,” Leo said with a smile, “this friendship with this guy, is the most important one.”
“I’ve known this guy since we were in fifth grade,” Artur interjected, somehow mirroring the words Leo had yelled back in front of the Pasta Station. “He didn’t participate in the latke fry-off.”
“But I did introduce the final challenge,” Leo interjected.
“Don’t mention that challenge,” Artur said before turning to Liv. “That was the one Abe lost on. He had to be brought back by the people’s…”
“Ricotta latke,” Leo said with a large grin on his face. “I own Fratelli’s restaurant in Rivertown and we do a Hanukkah menu every year in conjunction with the Hollowville Festival and Rivertown’s events.”
“And yes,” Artur said, adding the thing he’d asked Leo randomly a few weeks before, “he’s willing to extend the discount to those who enter with a Briarwood stamp. Or a receipt or a ticket from some event that you and he can figure out later.”
She blinked, surprised but the smile on her face was welcome. And a relief. “Thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome. I’m a good guy,” Leo said. “Better than he thinks I am.”
Which made Artur snort.
“You guys are so close,” Liv said, clearly falling back into the situation, as if Leo had managed to successfully diffuse the tension mentions of Briarwood had created. “And it’s nice to meet you.”
Which was when the couple who’d been behind them joined them. “So, Liv,” interjected another voice, “should you introduce us?”
“Yes,” Liv said, smiling. “This is my sister Naomi and…”
“Jason,” the guy interjected, giving Leo a look. “Jason Greenblatt of the Michigan Greenblatts. And of Manhattan and Briarwood.” He grinned. “I don’t truck with the chamber either. Too many ears here watching out for—” he pointed a backward thumb at Liv “—her.”
“My best friend since fifth grade,” Leo said. “Nothing is more important.”
And just like that, as a peace and a boundary was established, conversations about the chamber of commerce and who deserved that information forgotten in favor of the joy of knishes, Artur found himself relieved.
And nervous, knowing the rest of the night still lay ahead.
*
Liv wasn’t sure what to make of the night; it was fun for sure. The food was amazing, and the people were lovely. Batya had in fact been an older student at Schechter when she was there.
“You were in Mrs. Kuflik’s class when you were there, right?”
She nodded. “I was,” she said. In first grade, of course.
Where they had the bridge ceremony between the first graders and the eighth graders.
And that’s why Batya looked familiar; she’d been the eighth grader who had spent time with her when she was in first grade. It was fun to catch up with her. “Keep me posted,” Batya said. “I want to know everything.”
“Once life slows down for both of us we need to grab coffee.”
“I’d like that,” Batya had said.
Her husband was also lovely; Liv could see the friend that had saved Artur as a fifth grader; the guy was all heart.
“Just be careful,” Abe had said. “There’s a very, very huge heart behind the hall-of-mirrors exterior.”
She nodded. “I will,” she said, taking the warning for what it was. “You don’t have to spend much time to see it.”
Sarah, the Hanukkah consultant, was excited to see her again. “You know what’ll be great?” she said as Jason came back to either spy on them or add to the conversation.
“What?”
Sarah turned to Jason and grinned widely in his direction. “Knishes in the food area during the event cycle. Maybe a knish-making demonstration…”
He looked between them, blinking as if he hadn’t expected the conversation to make that kind of turn. “What do you mean, I…”
“Oh, come on,” Sarah said. “You’re coming over here for a reason and I just wanted to make you part of the conversation.”
“So, you’re asking me about Briarwood Hanukkah business now?”
Sarah nodded, and Liv grinned. “I always want to talk Hanukkah business, especially when I have a willing listener, and a participant who hasn’t made himself available.”
Whether Liv was actually willing or whether she was just enjoying the conversation on a late October night, she wasn’t sure. But she was there, and it was obvious Jason had been thwarted by Sarah and her plans. “Very,” she said.
“So, you want a collab with the restaurants or do you want a special Hanukkah item in the vendor…whatever you’re doing in the center of Briarwood?”
Liv thought for a second and grinned. “Both,” she said, enjoying Jason’s discomfort as the payment he got for spying. “That would work perfectly; something both inside and outside of Briarwood, to tie the town and the celebration to the heritage of both the town and the holiday.”
Jason nodded. “When your plans are a bit more concrete, let me know,” he said, pointing to Artur where he stood in the distance. “But I’ll consult with my brother who’s deeper into the restaurant than I am. I have a Hanukkah party to cater, one which is going to have a few dreidls.”
So, Jason was going to cater the Hanukkah party Jacob Horowitz-Margareten was throwing for the benefit of the mentorship program. “Got it.”
“Yes. You’ll be there?”
She nodded. “Looking forward to it.”
And suddenly yet another string fell into place between her and Artur, a connection that felt good, she decided as she headed toward the drinks table.
Which was when she was stopped by a rather tall gentleman. “Hello?”
“Hi,” he said, grinning. “Isaac Lieberman. You met my wife.”
And this was the Isaac Jacob didn’t like. “Nice to meet you, too. I’m Liv. Liv Nachman.”
“Nachman…sounds familiar. Are you related to…”
There was an extended pause and Liv couldn’t figure out who or what he was going to ask her about.
“Leah.” He paused again, looking at her with the expression of someone who is convinced they may have either made the wrong choice or asked someone the wrong question. “I know it’s a common name…but…”
“It’s fine,” Liv said. “She’s my cousin.”
“Oh good.” Isaac shook his head. “Sometimes I can be counted upon to say the worst things and because it took you so long to reply, I thought I did this time, but I’m glad to know I didn’t. Anyway, have you met her boyfriend?”
Again, she nodded. “Samuel is lovely,” she said.
And then a lightning bolt went off in her head.
Her husband’s part of the Brooklyn art crew that includes a sofer…
“Tell him I said hello,” Isaac continued, oblivious of the web of connection coming to life in her head, even more so than it had before.
“I will,” she said. “Next time I see him.”
“Good.”
And as Isaac headed off, she found herself alone, with a drink and a snack, knowing that this was definitely a wonderful evening.
All thanks to Artur.
Who was… somewhere.
And Liv needed to find him.
*
“She’s looking antsy.” Abe, of course. “Looking like she’s having fun, but a bit antsy.”
Artur nodded. “Yeah. I just…”
“Let me get this straight,” Abe said shaking his head. “You heard the advice I gave you before this started, and then decided to ignore it completely? Is that the gist of it?”
The advice he gave before…
Right. The advice Abe had given him before he’d headed out with Leo on parking duty. In front of the smoker, in front of the side dishes.
“You’re going to be tempted to leave her to her own devices,” Abe said. “So she can give in to her own impulses about networking and what she thinks she’s here for.”
“And that’s not a good idea?”
Abe shook his head. “You’ve invited her here. Yes. Let her network and meet people, but don’t leave her alone completely. That’s not what this is for.”
“So what is it for?”
The expression on Abe’s face would have, in childhood when both of them were much smaller, heralded some kind of shaking, some moment where Abe grabbed his shoulders and shook, as if the motion would somehow get the brain to where Abe thought it should be.
But now, only the expression remained, a phantom limb of childhood experiences and learned conversations.
And moments where lessons were expected.
“You don’t know?” Abe asked, incredulity lacing his words like caramel on ice cream. “You need to go check on her. You need to find her.”
She was doing business, finding her feet. If he stopped her too early, he’d lose her. “But…”
“No buts. She’s not drowning,” Abe said. “But she’s not relaxed either. She seems like she’s looking for something, and I’ll bet it’s not a thing she’s looking for but a you .”
“She’s not ready… I…”
“What do you think she isn’t ready for? Why do you have to wait?”
And that was the question, wasn’t it? Something he had to answer honestly soon, or deal with the consequences. Because as he turned around, there she was.
“Hey, I thought I’d find you here.”
And if he wasn’t ready now, he never would be. “Hey,” he said. “Do you want to debrief?”
She blinked. “Okay?”
“Come on,” he said offering his hand. And as he took it, he went toward the one place where he thought they’d have some degree of privacy without leaving the backyard.
The sukkah.