Chapter Four
Two weeks later
Jason was starting to hate poker. He liked pizza and hockey games and random knish-folding days, spending time with his friends. But poker was becoming annoying as hell…and not because of the game itself.
“You’re running away.”
Poker gave some of his friends the excuse to interrogate him, which was a pain in his ass when they were supposed to be discussing the bachelor party. And not the random bullshit that was stuck in his head.
Especially the kind of shit that he’d mistakenly blurted out one night, thinking Lev would be a good sounding board. Unfortunately, Lev came with built-in training and counseling—why he thought talking to a guy whose day job was being a rabbi was a good idea, he didn’t know.
The answer, of course, was that he hadn’t been thinking, and was paying for that mistake three weeks later.
But he wasn’t in the mood to open up that can of worms. Not ever, and especially not then…
in a group that included Samuel, who was dating Naomi’s cousin Leah, and Artur, who was now dating Naomi’s sister Liv.
They were there for legitimate reasons; because of who they were dating, they were getting involved with the bachelor party prep.
And though they seemed like good guys, Jason didn’t feel like discussing the most intimate parts of his personal life with them.
Especially since Jason had discovered Samuel was a nosy nudnik worse than his brother. Artur hadn’t quite opened up fully, but from what Jason knew, once the man figured out the proverbial lay of the land, that would change. Whether for the good or for the bad, Jason wasn’t sure.
But way too many people in that group liked a hanging conversation thread, so he did his best to answer Lev’s very pointed question in a way that made it clear the conversation was over. “I’m not running away,” he said.
“From who or what are you not running away?”
He turned toward the sound of the question and looked right into Artur’s eyes.
From the way Naomi talked about the conversation she’d had with her sister before she called him on New Year’s, Jason imagined Artur knew a bit more about what was going on with Naomi, and with Judith’s wedding, than he let on.
Luckily for Jason, from what he could piece together, Artur was in crisis PR, and as a result was also a professional at keeping secrets.
So, Artur deserved at least some of the answers to the multi-part question he’d thrown in Jason’s direction.
That, like most of the others that he’d been asked since he walked into this house, were about Naomi. Without saying her name.
But more specifically, the questions weren’t about any crisis he or Naomi were dealing with. They were about commitment. And whether he was leaving Naomi, and whatever relationship they had, behind.
Which was complete nonsense, considering how it had been Naomi’s idea that he take this trip in the first place.
Not that he’d tell any of these nudniks that.
But Artur, at least, deserved honest answers. “I have a fantastic set of business opportunities that have been arranged. And I’d be a dumbass if I turned them down.”
“Conveniently arranged,” Lev said, “I might add, after New Year’s.”
Now Artur snorted.
Yep. This was about Naomi.
This was absolutely about commitment and a relationship they thought he was running away from. Asking as surrogate members of Naomi’s family, not as Ash’s friends.
But the last name he wanted to drop in front of this group of buffoons was Naomi’s.
“She knew I was organizing this trip,” he said, giving them the breadcrumbs they deserved instead of the freshly braided challah of information they wanted.
“She knew I could be leaving at pretty much any point, and knowing her…”
That’s when Artur raised his hand in a universal signal for stop. “Let’s go talk,” he said.
It was an invitation, and Jason figured it was a good one. He nodded and followed the other man out to the living room, away from the study they were using.
Once they arrived in a space that only the two of them occupied, Artur said, “Don’t know what’s going on. My guess is that it has something to do with what unfolded on the way to my best friend’s house a few weeks ago?”
If he had to guess, the other man was remembering the fact that he’d showed up and shocked both Liv and—it seemed—Artur, on the way to a party Artur’s friend Abe Neumann was having.
Yet another one of those moments where Naomi had needed him, and as it turned out, someone he’d met at that party invited him to the New York Jewish Culinary Association party he’d attended on New Year’s.
Neumann barbecue party aside, Artur was looking below the surface, at the very obvious connection between him and Naomi that Liv and Artur saw for the first time at that party. Which was what had shocked Liv.
And that was spot on.
Which meant the man deserved an answer. “You know people,” he said. “What’s most important, no matter what, is that in any kind of a relationship between two people, they both need to know exactly where the other one stands.”
Artur nodded. “And as long as you keep those lines of communication open and clear, you’re good to go.”
“Exactly.”
“Now,” Artur said. “The lines of communication are open, so when you tell her you’re leaving…?”
“She’ll shove me out the door,” he replied with a smile. “But yes. Lines of communication are open, to the point she knows why I’m leaving even though she doesn’t know where I’m going yet.”
“And you’re completing all your obligations?”
He had to tread carefully there; he wasn’t sure whether the other man knew about what had happened with the wedding, and he wasn’t taking chances. “Don’t know what you know about my obligations,” he said, “but whatever I promised to do, I’m not leaving until I’ve delivered.”
“And just because I’m curious, you’re leaving to…?”
“Complete a series of jobs, stages, that has been organized by a bunch of…”
“Interesting people.” The other man nodded. “My best friend did something like that over the last few years. He finished a few months ago, right around the time of his party.”
“Is he taking any of them up on longer…placements?”
Artur laughed. “He’s still got the extensive list of contacts he accumulated and has promised to use it when he needs to, but he’s learned what he wants to do is closer to home.”
Which made sense. “But it was important for him to do this?”
The other man nodded. “He’s making his hobby a career, so it made sense for him to spend time learning before diving in completely. Lucky for him, he—like you—had time to spend doing this kind of career development.”
Jason knew he was lucky; he had the freedom and the finances to be able to do what he was about to do for the next few months. He had health insurance and no commitments until the wedding. “Good. I’m excited.”
“And Naomi will be too?”
He nodded. “As soon as I tell her exactly where I’m going, she’ll insist on reports, which I’ll gladly give.”
And instead of being nervous about his conversation with Naomi, after talking with Artur, he was excited about it.
In fact, the second he left Lev’s house, he immediately called Naomi to see what she was up to.
*
Naomi was organizing papers when her phone rang.
“What are you up to?”
Jason. There was something about the sound of his voice that relaxed her, even if being honest about what she was up to, was the source of her stress.
“Finalizing the arrangements for the caterer for the wedding,” she said.
“One of mine?”
“God forbid,” Ida had said, when Naomi had given her mentor the list of caterers that she and Jason had come up with, “your smooth hands make a mess of the wedding belonging to the organizer of Jacob Horowitz-Margareten’s Mitzvah Alliance Project.”
Then sometime later the woman, whose chignon was never out of place, had given her yet another laminated copy of her list of approved caterers from the file of them she kept in her office. “Now, here are the caterers that meet with my standards. Use one of them.”
Which meant there was no discussion, no conversation. Ida had made her choice, and it was up to Naomi to make the arrangements with the caterer on that list that was the closest to what Judith and Ash would want, using Ida’s preapproved contract.
But telling anybody including Jason, that story would invite the kind of critique she wasn’t in the mood for. Instead, she shared the sanitized version with Jason. “I submitted the list to Ida, who kept it on file. She chose a few of them and I chose from her list.”
Jason sighed.
She knew. Oh, she knew. But Ida was her boss, the only one who’d given her a chance to enter the event planning industry, and the woman still had a reputation. And a business that she’d once told Naomi would be hers.
“So,” Jason interjected, bringing her back to earth. “You fixed it, and she—”
“Helped,” she said, cutting him off. “But yes. I feel so much better. And I wouldn’t have made it through without you.”
“Despite the Ida of it all, do you want to celebrate?”
She nodded, then remembered this wasn’t a video call and he couldn’t see her. “Yes,” she said. “I’m really up for celebrating.”
“Good. I’ll bring dinner and wine.”
Which meant he was coming over to celebrate. And she had to clean.
A few hours later, she’d thrown the last of her freshly washed laundry in the tiny dryer, hoping the kitchen floor was dry and that she’d removed all of the random towels and blankets from her living room couch, hoping there was no sign of the disaster that had been there hours before.
But this was Jason.
Jason who’d brought her chicken soup when she was sick, who’d called her upset about his inventory needs and who’d made her a cake to thank her when she introduced him to her favorite spreadsheet program and offered to make a bunch of them for him.
Jason who liked popcorn with bits of seaweed, who found special joy in flavors, her confidant she met by chance at her cousin’s house five years before.