“What was your alternate etymology?” Ethan asked with a grin.
“Use your imagination.”
“Oh, Iwill.”
I gave him a gentle shove, amused and wishing I didn’t feel so delighted by Ethan all the time.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s game-plan this. Do we write your dad and Dr. Bradley notes and sign the other person’s name?”
“You’re ridiculous. No. That’s a terrible idea.”
“No ideas are bad ideas.” He put his arm around my shoulder and tugged me to his side.
It felt good—too good—and I wanted to snuggle into his side. Which meant I should probably pull away. As a compromise, I decided to call him on it. “Oh, are you yawning?”
“Nah, I’m counting shoulders. Didn’t you notice? Need me to demonstrate? Because I totally can.”
“Oh my god, youarea twelve-year-old boy.”
“Aren’t we all twelve-year-old boys on the inside?” Ethan said philosophically.
“No. I’m not.”
Ethan laughed. “I’ve always thought it’s cruel kids become a bar or bat mitzvah at twelve and thirteen. It’s the most awkward age in the world.”
“I wouldn’t know. I never did.”
“Really?” He turned, his face close. “How come?”
I shrugged, embarrassed and overly warm. “I don’t know. I mean, I do know. Dad and I aren’t really religious, and I only went to Hebrew school for two years when I was little.”
“Maybe you saved yourself a lot of awkwardness.”
“Maybe,” I said. “I think I might have liked to, though. Sometimes, I feel a little…I don’t know. Not Jewish enough.”
“Honestly, I think a lot of people can feel that way,” Ethan said. “At least according to my mom and the aunts after a glass of wine.”
I had noticed the women of Golden Doors did, in fact, thoroughly enjoy a life discussion in the evening over a glass of wine. “Really?”
“Yeah. And they, at least, don’t think it’s possible to not be Jewish enough, especially if you want to be. Besides, you canalways have an adult bat mitzvah. Miriam’s mom did that.”
That made me feel a little better. I wasn’t sure if I did want to, but I liked the idea of the option being available. And it made me feel better, too, to hear the women of Golden Doors didn’t have standards I couldn’t meet. “So was yours awkward?”
“Oh, definitely. But also great. I was the king of the dance floor.”
My lips turned up. “I bet you were. Bet you have great moves.”
“You sound like you doubt me.” He launched to his feet. “Let me prove myself.”
“Oh, wow, no, you don’t need to.”
Ethan rocked his hips from side to side, doing the shopping cart thing. I wrapped my arms around my knees and burst into uncontainable giggles as Ethan twirled in a circle, hands in the air.
David came by, his severe expression at odds with his romper and the lei he’d acquired. “Ethan. You’re embarrassing me.”
Ethan grabbed his brother’s hands and started shaking them in the air, too.
David let him, but shot me a long-suffering glance as if to say,You see what I have to put up with?
