“Oh, it’s not, she’s pretty great. I mean, it’s not like this is my first time here,” Shoshana said, suddenly feeling the need to defend her friends, “I haven’t attended services in … well, it’s been a while.”
“How long a while?” he said, then spread his hands, his face immediately apologetic. “Sorry, occupational hazard. It’s a little hard to just turn it off.”
“I get that,” she said, making a show of mock appraisal. She laughed, and was a little surprised that it was a genuine laugh. She was comfortable with this guy. How was that possible? Maybe it was just that her anxiety had reached the point where her brain was on auto-pilot. She flicked her hair off her shoulders and managed to form a complete sentence, “I think it’s been about ten years? I mean, I may have come once or twice. The important stuff, you know. But this place--it’s just not a big part of my life anymore.”
“But you pay money to stay on the membership list?” he said, cocking his head as though he was trying to wrap his mind around the idea. “That’s a lot of resources you’re not using.”
“Oh, you’re good,” Shoshana said, drawing it out to show she could see exactly what he was doing. Then she rolled her eyes.
This was definitely not a discussion she wanted to have with anybody. Let alone the new rabbi. Let alone the new rabbi who had eyes so liquid and dark she wanted to fall into them. Let alone a new rabbi she wasdefinitelyalmost flirting with.
“I’m not a member, not since I was a teenager anyway. It’s complicated. And there are a lot of people here who probably want to talk to you.”
“That’s probably true,” he said, making a show of looking around at the clusters of people still in the room. The oneg after a service didn’t usually last much longer than an hour or so, but none of the people appeared to be in a hurry to leave. Shoshana wasn’t sure, but he seemed to tense just the tiniest bit around the eyes as he took in the groups of people.
“What are the odds they haven’t really given you room to breathe,” she guessed, eyeing the temple’s secretary. The woman had been the bane of Shoshana’s existence the year she was bat mitzvah, but if she recognized her now she gave no indication. Kathy only lifted her cup of coffee in the rabbi’s direction and nodded at a small child holding court next to her.
“They are working very hard to be sure I know I am welcome,” he said. The careful diplomacy in his voice made her laugh in spite of herself. Something in the set of his shoulders and his carefully neutral tone told her that he was the uncomfortable one now.
“And do you feel sufficiently welcomed?” Shoshana asked, reaching for a tray on the end of the long buffet table. It had a carefully arranged assortment of rugelach and she considered it seriously before lifting a piece and biting it in two with relish.
She made a noise she couldn’t help--it was really good rugelach, and she hadn’t eaten dinner yet--then opened her eyes to realize he was watching her. She smiled around the mouthful and swallowed, lifting the tray toward him.
“Rugelach?”
“My kid has been looking forward to that rugelach all day,” he said, plucking a piece for himself.
“Your kid has good taste. This is probably Evelyn’s work, she’s famous,” Shoshana said, popping the other half of the dessert into her mouth before she could say something else that was completely embarrassing.
“I bow to your expertise, also you need to remind me which person is Evelyn.” He swallowed and considered the piece of pastry in his hand thoughtfully. “I really was not expecting all this.”
“Evelyn is the one over there with the pink leopard purse. And what weren’t you expecting, the rugelach? You think we just go to Costco and grab a sampler? Pfft.” She tossed her head to show disdain. “Do you know how many bubbes worked their fingers to the bone so you could--”
“Shoshana,” his laugh was warm and genuine, and it did the same things to her that his singing voice had done earlier, “I wasn’t talking about the rugelach.”
Her stomach flipped and she felt a blush darkening her cheeks. Though she was pretty sure the blush was because of the way he said her name. So natural, like he said her name a hundred times already.
A hundred times in the dark,her mind whispered and something fluttered low in her stomach. She wasn’t sure where that thought had come from, but she wasn’t opposed to it. She reminded herself to yell at Abigail later. Because she was officially crushing on this guy and he hadn’t even done anything except exist. She tried to think of something to say but her mind was still stuck on the way her name sounded in his mouth.
“Shoshana,” he said again, this time reaching to take the tray from her suddenly useless fingers. She let him. Glad, actually, that he’d taken it because she was in danger of dropping it all together. She shook her head to clear it of the thoughts that were better had when she was alone and couldn’t embarrass herself.
“Sorry, what?” She made herself ask the question because she had to say something. That was what you did when you were having a conversation with someone and they said your name, right? Right.
“I want to keep talking to you. I mean...” he said, casting around for somewhere to put the tray. He didn’t seem to want to step away from her to go back to the buffet table. He settled for placing the tray on the low end table behind them.
“But what about your adoring public?” she said, hoping it had just the right note of teasing. The very tips of his ears got red and she bit her lip, wondering if she’d actually embarrassed him. A thought occurred to her and she was speaking it before she could stop herself. “You really don’t know how to handle all this attention, do you?”
“What? Are you kidding?” He scoffed, made a show of screwing up his face as though it was the most outrageous thing he’d ever heard.
“I mean, people have probably been throwing single nieces and daughters and grandbabies at you since you got off the plane, right?” She tried to sound airy, as though this wasn’t something that annoyed her. As though this wasn’t one of the reasons she started avoiding shul in the first place. As though, even though they meant well, the constant pressure to pair up with someone and make babies and otherwise contribute to the community wasn’t a lot of pressure.
“It’s not quite that bad,” he said. He was definitely uncomfortable now. She felt like an asshole. She resisted the urge to apologize because as much as it was an assholish thing to say, she didn’t think she was wrong, and itwassomething she legitimately had an issue with. She was more shocked that he kept talking. “I mean, they were kind enough to wait to be sure the divorce was final.”
Shoshana’s bark of laughter could have been a lip synch for a screaming goat on YouTube. She covered her mouth with her hand, shocked at herself. She couldn’t help but notice more than one person turned to find the sound. She winced.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh in your face like that, I just wasn’t expecting--”
“They also haven’t figured out yet that I won’t be dating any congregants,” he said, his tone definitely annoyed.