Cantor Joel.
The name struck like lightning. His mentor, the man who first sparked Avi’s interest in making music his life and livelihood. He used to think about him whenever they toured through Ohio, but had never known – or remembered – what city his mentor had moved to or the name of the congregation he’d joined. Avi tried to remember the last time he’d thought of Cantor lately…let alone thought of contacting him.Well, no time like the present.
How many people with the name Gellman could there be in Ohio?
If this wasn’t kismet, Avi didn’t know what was.
Chapter Four
“You want me to stopwhere?”
Leah was on the road but already behind schedule. “Procrastibaking” was her favorite form of stalling on things she had to do versus wanted to do. So packing hadn’t happened until she had a fresh batch of chocolate rugelach cooling on her kitchen counter. And sleep hadn’t come until after midnight. Her chances of reaching New York with ample daylight on her side were fading as fast as her good mood. But she couldn’tnothumor her father.
“It’s Kismet!” He enunciated, then laughed as if it were the best joke he’d heard in years. “Just north of Columbus, right off the Interstate. Consider it my request, Letty. Assuming you haven’t made it that far already.”
Here was the man who had been quiet about asking anything of her the entire time she was planning her trip.Now he thinks of something?
While others had heaped her honey-you-must-see-and-do list with things that would keep her busy across all five boroughs of New York City, her dad would just pat her hand each timeshe saw him. And make her promise to read a book, make a new friend, and have a grand adventure.
“No offense, Dad. But I hardly think my grand adventure involves a truck stop in Kismet. What could possibly be there?”
“Not awhat, Letty – awho! A former student of mine is in need of a ride.”
Leah detected a lift in his tone; it was almost a melody and something she hadn’t heard in a long time.
“Are you sure you don’t just want me to pick something up for you in New York?” She had room for another tacky foam crown from Lady Liberty (Regina’s request) or another dozen bialys, whatever the hell those were. She’d find out when she got to Manhattan.
But she’d never get there at this rate if she was picking up random strangers at rest stops. People she would have to, God forbid, make small talk with?
Leah had her good book cued up – a just-spicy-enough romantasy on audiobook that would keep her interest through at least thirteen road trip hours, if necessary. Books were friends enough, so she figured she had two-thirds of her dad’s questions covered. And as for this jaunt being an adventure?
That was a given.
“Leah.” He dropped his tone an octave, along with his childhood nickname for her. “If you’re worried at all – he’s more than just a former student. He’s a mensch, and he’s in a real bind. He just needs a lift to Erie.”
“From Kismet. At…” Her car clock, perpetually wrong by eighteen minutes no matter how many time changes she’d tried to reset it right, read 6:49.And he’s making me do math while driving?“…6:31 in the morning.”
“Yes, and yes. I’d even venture to say he could pay you for gas.” Her father chuckled. “Eventually.”
Nowthatwas a welcome thought, balancing the others swirling through Leah’s head. With Jaz not on the trip to split the costs, share sandwiches, and offer up pieces of her wardrobe to help Leah dress for success on these business pitches, she was feeling a bit over her head. She had enough to get herself to New York City, barring any delays. But it would be nice to stretch her savings if this guy could help chip in.
And she had to admit, her dad’smenschendorsement held weight. The chances of her passenger also being ameshuganawere slim – but still not none.
Leah sighed, adding her dad’smenschto the Bramblewood Bucket List. And stowing the tin of rugelach behind the front seat to make room for him. “You know I would go out of my way for you, Dad. Literally.”
“That’s the beauty of it, Letty. It’sonyour way. You’ll have good company all the way to your first stop.”
Avi was wrong – it turned out Ohio was pretty freaking huge.
The name Gellman was not as common as Cohen, but still, Avi burned through half the funds on his phone card, just working his way through the J Gellmans of Ohio before finally hitting the right number.
Cantor Joel had found him a ride to the bus station in Erie, which was great news. He’d listened thoughtfully to Avi’s plight, then told him to hang up, wait five minutes, and call him back.
Avi never wore a watch because he always had his phone. Now, he had no phone to consult, no timer to set. That left him with an itchy, jangly-under-the-skin feeling. There was also no clock in the arcade, just the old pinball machines time had forgotten with their sad lights flashing. So he paced and countedto sixty as calmly as he could, five times. Then, he re-dialed the operator and held his breath until she connected him with Joel Gellman again.
They’d spent the rest of his phone card balance catching up and passing the time, which had raised Avi’s spirits – but also his suspicions.
Why wasn’t his mentor able to come himself? Not that he expected the man to drive him all the way to Buffalo, but to at least a Western Union, where Eli could wire him some cash when it opened? Then to the bus station? They could’ve found a diner along the way and had a genuine heart-to-heart.
