“It’s been here at least an hour. How did we miss it?”
“Forget it – for now, God’s with you. Stop whining.”
“I can’t believe it. I’m checking again to be sure.”A weak yellow light spilled across the doorway. Only one window glowed inside the house. Savyon’s silence was stifling. I had no idea what to expect.
“I’m not leaving until she comes out,” I told Max.
“And me? What’s my role in this plan?”
“I’ll get into her Peugeot. If she doesn’t throw me out, you follow us. I need to have the Ford back to my dad by seven in the morning. Let’s see what happens till then.” I was so hyped I didn’t even stop to hear how crazy I sounded.I leaned against her car and waited. Half an hour crawled by. Nothing moved – like the world had frozen. The street was empty, even the dog-walkers had vanished. Occasionally, a car passed. The driver would glance at Max, who sat in the Ford pretending to read an old newspaper. From where I stood, he looked like a private detective on a stakeout.Suddenly the pathway lit up, followed by the porch. A second later the front door opened. I adjusted my glasses, straining to see. Lily stood in the doorway, her back to me, talking to someone. Her blond hair gleamed under the porch light. Then I heard her voice cut through the silence:
“See you next week.” She turned toward the street. My eyes locked on her.I didn’t want to startle her – I was afraid she’d bespooked. She looked left, then right, as if she’d forgotten where she parked. She glanced quickly at the Ford across the street, ignored it, then started toward the Peugeot. She stopped a few feet away.
“Lily?”
“Yes?” She looked surprised, but not scared.
“Michael. From this morning.”
“Michael? What are you doing here?”
“Trying to hitch another ride with you to Tel-Aviv.”
“Are you crazy? I told you, I have a boyfriend.”
“I didn’t say anything about dating. Just a ride.”
“A ride for life?” she teased.
“You said it!” I laughed.
“This isn’t going to work.”
“What harm is there if I tag along to Tel-Aviv?”
“Honestly, I mind,” she said seriously.
“But then again – what could happen? You’re a doctor. You wouldn’t want trouble.”
“What do you mean?” I echoed my morning question, still unable to read her.
“Exactly what you mean.”
“Hold on, let me just tell someone something,” I said, running back to the Ford.
“To Ramat Aviv,” I told Max happily, “to the university, corner of Tagore street. You can join us later – I’ll wait.”
“Bastard. Son of a bitch,” he muttered, starting the Ford.
“Bastard,” she repeated when I got into her car, as if she’d heard him – or had known us forever.
“Do we have to go to Ramat Aviv?” I asked, hoping to convince her to stop for coffee first.
“We don’t have to. But we are,” she ruled.
“Your boyfriend’s waiting?”
“Counting the minutes.”
