Chapter Twenty-Four
A rtur had consulted Abe and Sarah and Asher, who apologized after admitting that he might have been the one who tipped off Liv’s aunt. Which meant he was as prepared as possible to attend Shabbat dinner with Liv and her parents.
Liv, however, was more nervous than he’d ever seen her; hiding her vulnerability behind her bravado, shaking only when he stopped holding her hand. Which meant that Artur found himself attempting to reassure her. “It’s going to be fine,” he said. “We’re fine.”
“And Naomi’s going to be there to take off the heat.”
Why it was necessary her sister was going to be there, he wasn’t sure. But he wasn’t going to say that to Liv when she was holding on to the idea for dear life, repeating the phrase as if it was a butterscotch candy she was sucking on.
“Either way,” he continued, the fifth time they’d had that conversation and she’d had that response. “I’ve got really good babka, and I’m ready for anything.”
Liv raised an eyebrow. “If anybody else had said that,” she said, “I’d tell them they were full of pudding.”
“But I’m not,” he replied which seemed to relax her. “I promise we’ll be fine.” He paused and then looked up at her. “If you want me to drive, I will.”
Which was enough to shock her into some degree of calm. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “Look,” he said. “If I drive, you’ll concentrate on giving me directions and not on dinner.”
The smile on her face was enough to keep him going. “Yes,” he said. Okay. “We’ll be good. No matter what.”
And soon after, he pulled out of the guest space in front Liv’s town house, and then out of the development where the town house was.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“Right.” She shook her head, and there was that vulnerability again, the clear personal worry that she didn’t want to show anybody else. “I’m just worried, but if Naomi doesn’t come, I’ll have to deal with my parents without family interference.”
“We’ll be fine no matter what,” he said as he turned where she indicated he should. “What exactly makes you think she’s not coming?”
“I would have heard from her by now if she was,” Liv replied. “I haven’t heard from her at all since the party. And I’m concerned that she’s avoiding me…because she’s not coming.”
He blinked. Abe’s backyard barbecue pop-up had been a few weeks before. “Is it usual for the two of you not to be in contact for that long a period?”
“It is, unless there’s something going on, like my cousin’s wedding prep and dinner.”
He nodded. “Brace yourself either way,” he said. “I’m with you every step of the way.”
“Which is why I’m still sitting here and not running to find and strangle my sister.”
He smiled, her hand on top of his for a brief moment as it came off the gear shift. “We’re going to be fine,” he said. “I promise.”
And no matter what happened, he’d do his best to make sure that what he told her was true.
*
Of course Liv’s phone buzzed with a message from Naomi just after they’d greeted her parents.
She squeezed Artur’s shoulder.
“Drank too much water before getting in the car,” she said as she made her quick escape, jamming a button on her phone to call her sister as she closed the bathroom door.
“Hello?”
“I very much…hate you,” Liv said as she walked into the bathroom. Which was the best place for privacy.
“Why?” Naomi asked.
Of course she wasn’t there. She’d expected it, felt the telltale signs of her sister’s attempt to avoid her, her parents and whatever drama she might have been expecting.
But telling Naomi she knew what was up her bag of tricks was not something Liv felt like disclosing, or something that would make her yell. Instead, she kept it simple. “Because you’re not here for dinner tonight.”
“You miss Shabbats all the time,” Naomi said. “Life was nuts. I’m home; you’re there.”
“But this is different, Naomi,” Liv said. “Which you would have known if you, you know, made an attempt to call me?”
Her sister’s dramatic sigh reminded her of a wind gust. “What exactly is so different about this night as opposed to the…however many other non-holiday Shabbats?”
“Right,” she said. “Okay.” But she needed to be calm, cool, collected and ready. “So this time, tonight, Artur’s here.”
She heard what could have been the sound of the phone dropping or a glass breaking or something.; she wasn’t sure which one it was or why…
And yet.
When Naomi came back to the phone, she was breathing heavily. “He’s at Shabbat dinner for why?”
“Because Mom called me and was asking about him, like they were the gossip treasurers of Briarwood synagogue or something.”
“I don’t get it,” Naomi said. “This makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. Like… You’re…just getting to know this guy and she’s ASKING you about him.”
“Well,” she said. “I know. But I felt like it made sense for me to ask him. And he wanted to come, because it means something to me. He actually is prepared to swing a proverbial sword on my behalf tonight because you’re not here.”
“We’re not…this is ridiculous,” Naomi said, clearly unable to find words that made sense. “You don’t deserve that, just because two people saw you two in public.”
The bathroom was smothering, if not sweltering, and Naomi clearly didn’t understand their parents’ actions. Of course she didn’t; her sister was somewhere, doing something that kept her away. Not here.
When Liv needed her, not just for company or help but to understand.
Clearly that wasn’t happening, which meant Liv had to get through to her sister using the only…weapon she had. Her words.
“You,” Liv managed, “if you spend time with a guy, people can say it’s casual and be okay with it. But me? I spend time with someone, everybody watches me. Everybody thinks it’s suddenly a big deal. So he came. And I owe him for this…”
“You don’t owe him. If a guy really likes you, if he’s special,” her sister said, “he’d do something for you. He’d help you. He’d offer his sword.”
“Okay,” Liv said. Desperately trying not to read into what Naomi said regarding Jason, who seemed to be noticeably absent from Naomi’s discourse and existence. “But anyway, none of it matters,” she said, “because he’s here. And you’re not.”
“I’m sorry,” Naomi said. “Really.”
“We’ll talk at some point,” Liv managed, the tone that had come into her lexicon of ‘it’s fine but not really.’
“I owe you,” Naomi said.
“Yes, you do,” Liv replied, as she ended the call.
Thankfully, when she opened the door to the bathroom, her parents had headed off and Artur was waiting with a hanger, talking to her mother through the hallway. Without a word, the lovely man took her coat, hung it up and put it away before putting his arms around her.
“I told you,” he whispered, his voice making her insides jelly, “you have my sword.”
“Hopefully you don’t need it,” she replied as she headed into the kitchen.
*
Despite Liv’s concerns, the night and the dinner had gone pretty well; the candlesticks that were Liv’s mother’s prized possessions reminded him of candlesticks he’d seen pretty much every Friday night during his childhood.
“So where were you bar mitzvahed again?” Liv’s father asked.
“Rivertown Hebrew,” he said.
The gentleman, who cut a good London broil, nodded. “Good to hear. Now where do you work again?”
He smiled. “I worked in-house for a company for a while, then I moved to a consulting firm for quite a number of years,” he said. “But I had burnout and ended up doing five years working on a Mitzvah Alliance project in Eastern Europe.”
Liv’s mother made a noise that sounded like approval.
“And now?” Liv’s father asked, continuing what Artur now was absolutely sure was some kind of interrogation.
But he was prepared; as Asher had explained both at Jacob’s house and over a hastily conducted conversation in between talking about Jewish players and the Empires, this was the first time Liv had ever brought someone to her parent’s house, and apparently, from what he’d heard from Asher, the first time the family noticed she’d actually noticed anybody.
Hence the full court press from Liv’s parents. Of course, he never minded answering questions.
“Now? I’m back,” he said, smiling as if there wasn’t any other thing he’d rather do than be there with her or them on this Friday night. Because there wasn’t. Shabbas dinner was warm and comfortable. If he could help make Liv feel any of those things on a night where her natural inclination was to feel the complete opposite, he’d submit to any kind of interrogation possible. Including interrogation by applesauce.
But talking about his professional goals in a way that made him look stable to concerned parents?
Easy.
“At the moment,” he said, “I’m working for the Empires on a temporary basis here in Briarwood. While I’m doing that, I’m investigating a few possibilities for my next gig, one of which is with the Empires.”
He saw her smile; found himself very glad he’d told her already about what his plans were.
Liv reached for his hand, “I think he might be talking about possibly doing something with one of Leah’s clients.”
He nodded, taking her hand in his. “I think that’s what it is. They haven’t told me very much. Odds are, they won’t until the end of the opening here.”
“But,” Liv’s father said. “Regardless of what position you end up taking, you’re going to stay in the New York area?”
He nodded, taking a bite of his challah. G-d that was good. “My expertise is in fixing large-scale corporate PR crises. I have experience in other crisis forms, but that’s where I’m comfortable working. Most of the companies that usually hire someone like me tend to be based in the New York area. But I’m actually hoping to go in-house.”
“Freelance, or having your own shop has the whole time dilemma, right?” her mother said. “You set your own schedule, but you have to be more active in finding things.”
He nodded, smiling. “I’ll always have the potential of getting the 3 a.m. phone call, because corporate crises wait for nobody, but the reality is that if I’m in-house, I might be able to see that coming and work with the company to avoid the danger.”
“So,” Liv interjected, “if you were in-house with the Empires before this…”
“There is a good possibility I would have jumped in and never let Flaire’s plan see the light of day.”
“Well,” Liv’s mother said, smiling at her older daughter, “then it’s a good thing he didn’t have to see Flaire before she came to Briarwood.”
He wasn’t sure Liv would agree to that. “I’m glad I met you,” he said to Liv. “But there were, and still are, a lot of people that were hurt.”
And instead of glaring at him, she smiled. “Yeah. We definitely would have met in other circumstances for sure. I wouldn’t wish the pain Briarwood residents have been dealing with on anybody.”
He squeezed her hand. And sitting there, right then, he knew he wasn’t going to let her go.