“It’s all right, Cindy. No problem.”

“You’ve had bad experiences before?”

“Not really,” he said. “I never meet parents… never any reason. Last time was maybe fifteen years ago when I take Aliza Goldberg to the movies. Her father was a colonel inZahal.” He laughed. “Old feelings. So maybe I overreact.”

We rode for several minutes, one-way chatter coming from the radio.

“He’s a great guy, Koby. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

But neither of us was sure of anything.

?

Dad had a very powerful poker face; it was a necessary component of being a great detective. But knowing him well, I detected the minuscule rise of an eyebrow. Still, he masked it with aplomb, his smile never wavering. He shook Koby’s hand while inviting us inside. My father was slightly taller than my date, but must have outweighed him by a good fifty pounds. Daddy looked handsome in a dark blue suit.

I spoke quickly, doing the introductions. Everyone was nice and polite. It was a stiff moment, but not unbearable. Koby had good social skills-way better than mine.

“Shabbat Shalom.Thank you for having me.” He presented Dad with the wine bottle and held the flowers aloft. “This is for your wife.”

“I’ll go get her. That way you can give them to her. Would either of you like something to drink?”

“I’m fine,” I answered. “Koby?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Great.” An odd pause. “I’ll get Rina.”

Dad was about to escape behind the kitchen door, but Rina came out before he could go in. She was wiping her hands on her apron, her hair tucked into a beret. Again I made introductions. Her smile was wide and welcoming.

“Ah, Koby. Yaakov.Yesh lee Yaakov gam ken. Ma nishma?”

“Beseder gamur.”

“That good, huh? You’re doing better than I am, but I’m always frazzled beforeShabbat.”

“That is the same for women worldwide.” Koby extended the flowers to her. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

“You’re welcome.” She took the bouquet. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“I’m from Ethiopia. I’m always hungry.”

Rina smiled. “When did you emigrate to Israel?”

“It was 1983.”

“Where did they settle you? Near Kiryat Arba?”

“Exactly.”

“I knew that because I used to live in Kiryat Arba. I remember when you all came over. The government recruited us for help. I ran anulpanfor the Ethiopians that summer.”

“You’re kidding!”

“No, I’m not. For all I know, you could have been one of my students.”

“I don’t think so. I would remember.”

“You would have definitely remembered. I was out to here.” Rina made a pregnant stomach by extending her hands forward. “They gave me the four- to eight-year-olds.”

“I was twelve. Do you remember names?”

“I’ve got to think.” She furrowed her brow. “I remember a little boy named Elias Tespay.”

“I know the Tespays.”

“And someone named Welda.”

“Yoseph Welda?”

“No, it wasn’t Yoseph… Eliahu maybe.”

“Probably one of his younger brothers or a cousin. There were lots of Weldas. I think about sixty of them came.”

“Yeah, you guys were crammed into the housing like sardines. Where did you finally settle?”

“Petach Tikvah. My father remarried, so the housing didn’t improve much. There were ten of us in a three-room apartment. But at least it was our own apartment.”

“That’s not exclusive to Ethiopians, you know. Everybody’s cramped in Israel. You learn to be a good team player.”

“Or you leave,” Koby stated.

“Gotcha.” Rina held up the flowers. “I should put these in water and check on dinner. I’m actually planning to go to shul.” She looked at Koby. “Did you want to go to shul? It’s Ashkenazdavening.”

“No problem. Thebeit knessetI go to-when I go-is Ashkenaz.”

“Which one is that?”

“It is in Los Feliz, near my house. It is Conservative service, but the rabbi has Orthodox background, I think. He’s Hungarian.”

“I’m Hungarian,” Rina said. “What’s his name?”

“Robert Farkas.”

Rina shrugged ignorance. “Lots of Hungarians in this city.” Another shrug. “I should check on dinner.”

“Anything I can help you with, Rina?” I piped in.

“Yes, you can help your sister get dressed. The child is a turtle.” Rina looked at my father. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, I am. Need help in the kitchen?”

“If you’re offering, I won’t say no.” She smiled at Koby, then at me. “See you in a minute.” She took Dad’s hand. It might have been my imagination, but it looked as though she was trying to calm him down.

?

“Don’t say a word,” Rina whispered.

“I’m not saying anything!” Decker whispered back. “And you don’t have to tell me how to behave. I am not a racist!”

“I know that.”

“Well, I don’t think youdoknow that. Otherwise you wouldn’t look so damned worried.”

“I’m not worried.”

“Yeah, you are.” He clutched the wine as he spoke. “I’m going to have a wonderful meal with my family, all right? So stop giving me those looks! And don’t tell me you wouldn’t have had some feelings if it had been Sammy or Jacob bringing home an Ethiopian girl.”

“As long as she was Jewish, I wouldn’t care.”

“Well, aren’t you the liberal one!”

“Peter, why don’t you make yourself useful?” She handed him the bouquet of flowers. “Put these in a vase and set them on theShabbattable. Then open the wine before you break the bottle.” She stirred a pot of lentil soup. “We’ll let it breathe while we’re in shul.”

Decker regarded his wife, then looked at the objects in his hands. He set them on the kitchen counter, realizing that his jaw was clenched. He took a deep breath in, then let it out. Reaching his long arms to the top cabinet, he opened the door and took down a cut-crystal vase. He placed it under the sink and began to fill it with water.

“Flowers… wine… the man has manners.” He growled out, “More than…”

He left it at that. Rina filled in the blank. “More than Cindy?”

“He’s probably too good for her.”

“She’s a good girl, Peter. She’s gone through hell-”

“I know that, Rina. Stop giving me perspective, okay? I’m not angry. I just don’t know why she didn’t… Forget it!”

Rina checked the meat thermometer in the lamb roast, then turned down the temperature. She opened the refrigerator and took out green beans. “I’ll put these on the hot tray. That way they won’t overcook. Nothing worse than limp green beans.”

“It smells good,” Decker said quietly.

“What does?”

“Everything.” He turned off the water and planted a kiss on his wife’s forehead. “Thank you for making this delicious meal. I’m snapping at you. I apologize.”

“I know you’re not a racist, Peter. And I’m not trying to one-up you, okay? It would have been nice if she had leveled with you. Just to prepare you.”

“Exactly!”Decker plunked the flowers into the vase. “That’sexactlywhat I meant!” Rummaging through the drawers, he found a corkscrew. “She tells me he’s a traditional Jew from Israel; I get a certain picture in my mind, that’s all.” He plunged the bit into the cork. “I’m too involved, that’s the problem. It’s her life.”

“He seems lovely,” Rina said.

“How can you tell that in thirty seconds?”

“He’s got beautiful eyes. They’re windows to the soul. I can just tell.”

“Nonsense, you’re being irrationally optimistic.”

“Peter, he’s Jewish, around her age, and gainfully employed.”

Decker stopped a moment, then shrugged. “True.” He went to work on the cork. “Well, if I say I’m not prejudiced, I guess I shouldn’t prejudge.”

A moment later, Cindy came in. Decker took in her face, then popped open the cork. He smelled the wine. “Not bad. It’ll be better after it breathes a little.”

“You like Cabernet,” Cindy said.

“Yes, I do.” Decker smiled but didn’t continue the conversation. Rina tried out a nervous smile. She was so tired of playing referee, but that seemed to be her lot in life. “Everything okay?” she asked her stepdaughter.