What was his name again?
Leah held the foreign currency up to the light as Avi maneuvered them along the shores of Lake Erie. The mental map in his head told him he could follow this particular Great Lake all the way up to Buffalo.
There was no way he was going to let her drive on her own, not after the cage match with that crotchety bee-otch Hattie. Leah had been bold in her delivery, standing up to the old broad, but Avi could tell it had knocked some of the wind out of her sails.
And that damn oil light was still on.
“Maybe we shouldn’t spend it, just in case.”
“It’s cash money, Letty. With the exchange rate in our favor, it’s a tank full.”
The nickname slid from his lips again, as easily as if they were old friends with history, and not just acquaintances from the past. He thought about all the people crossing his adult path, how he had had to train his brain to even remember a first name,a last name, an association. And here he was remembering little Letty? Leah Tova bat Yael?
Not to mention her Hebrew name,Lirit. Meaning “musical.”
“We’ll see,” she said, popping open her glove compartment to stash the bill. “Oh my God.” She began to laugh.
Avi glanced over. She had pulled out a folded piece of paper. It had grease spatters on it, and looked well-worn.
“Saul gave it to me the other day! So I could make that industrial batch of latkes for the building. ‘Scant flour, pinch of salt…’ Should we go back?”
“Hell no! That woman deserves to eat soggy, mediocre latkes for the rest of her days.” Avi smiled as she smoothed the old recipe against her denim-clad leg. “He gave it to you for a reason.”
“Yeah. I think he did.” Leah laughed as she pretended to yell back over her shoulder toward Erie. “Better blanch those potatoes after grating, Hattie!”
“Sounds like the ancient Jewish secret to me.” Avi flicked on the cruise control. “Maybe you’ll have time to make them for whatshisface. Doctor Perfect.”
He didn’t have to take his eyes from the road to know Leah was giving him that brow lift. Gone was her pre-teen unibrow, and in its place, carefully sculpted arches that conveyed a myriad of emotions. Currently calling him out on his bullshit.
“Please refrain from adding items to my bucket list where the doctor is concerned.”
Avi shrugged. “Sounds more ‘bashert’ than ‘bucket’ to me. Just saying.”
She tossed him a glance. “Is that something you believe in? The whole destiny, find-your-soulmate thing?”
“Jury’s still out.”
“Well, tease me all you want,” Leah said, reaching for her phone. “I should at least make sure we’re still on for our meetup on Friday.”
Avi was keenly aware that the ‘we’ and ‘our’ were no longer about the two of them, and that their adventure would be over soon after they crossed the PA line into New York state. And yet each time they climbed back into the car, it was smelling less like latke grease and more like...
Sweet, warm, happy.
He still couldn’t quite identify it – or the feeling in the pit of his belly – and whether it was due to Leah, no food since the mall food court, or the realization that he was one show away from the Baller and seeing Sylvie.
It was as if some spell cast over the SUV had made that eventuality feel very far away. A spell that he wasn’t quite ready to break just yet.
Chapter Ten
“Maybe after you scatter Mrs. Horowitz…you’ll come back to town and catch the gig?” Avi’s eyes didn’t leave the road.
“Wow, witnessing the Falls and then Fainted Bores? Two firsts in one day might be too much.” Leah tried to sound light, carefree. As if famous singers invited her to attend their concerts –excuse me, catch the gig– every third Wednesday of the month.
He was probably just doing it to be polite. Give the basement dweller a thrill beyond wrestling old ladies for their dead sister’s ashes.
“Just a thought.” He shrugged. “Free catering.”
“Ah, you know me too well.”
