“Yeah.”
“Okay, I need help. How did Jews wind up in a nineteenth-century American whaling town?”
He laughed. “We’re Sephardic. My family moved from Morocco to New Bedford in the early 1700s.”
“You can trace your family back to the1700s?” I asked indignantly “And you’re mad I’m trying to find out about my family history from sixty years ago?”
“I don’t object to your goals, but your methods,” he said loftily.
“How’d they end up here?”
“They were accountants—they’d been accountants in Fez, too—and New Bedford had strong Nantucket connections, because of the whaling trade. So when Nantucket boomed, my family opened a branch of the firm here. And built Golden Doors.”
As he spoke, he led me into the next rooms—two parlors with no real purpose, and a music room. A baby grand showed signs of recent use, sheet music scattered around, the bench tilted out. “Do you play?” I asked.
“My dad does.”
“Not you?”
“Tin ear,” he said lightly.
I remembered mentions of piano in the letters. “Your grandfather plays, too?”
“Yeah.”
“But you didn’t want to learn?”
“Come on, you’ll like this.” He moved into a hall and pushed open another door, gesturing for me to enter first.
Okay. So this boy had zero desire to talk about his family.
“Oh.”Books lined the walls. A fireplace stood on the far wall, a painting of the sea above it. Cozy couches and brocaded armchairs were scattered about the thick carpets. Foggy glass obscured the windows. A biography of Mark Twain sat on the round table beside one armchair, along with a box of Stoned Wheat Thins.
“It’s wonderful. I always wanted a library.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “I’m not surprised.”
“What can I say, I enjoy being a stereotype.”
Next, he led me upstairs, to a large, elegant room whose modern couches and entertainment system couldn’t disguise its original grandiosity. Board games and books stacked shelves. “This is where the cousins hang out.”
“How many of you are there? Where’s everyone right now?”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re nosy?”
“Literally my entire life.” I crossed to the large windows overlooking the grounds and distant, crashing sea. I couldn’t image my grandmother growing up here. “This view’s stunning.”
He came and stood behind me, shoulder only a few inches from my own. “There’s twelve cousins on my dad’s side.”
“And you’re the oldest.”
He nodded.
“Must be a lot of pressure.”
“You never give up, do you?”
“How would I learn anything if I did?Isit?”
