“Before you were tref,” Ezra said, using the Hebrew word for unkosher.
“Low blow, Ez,” Jonathan said.
“Both of you, enough,” Shimon said. “Papa will hear you and get upset.”
“Ach,” Ezra said, waving his hand in the air. He picked up his pace and caught up with the older men and Rina’s brothers-in-law.
Jonathan said, “The man has no sense of humor.”
Shimon wagged a finger at him. “That is not nice.”
“It’s not a matter of being nice or not nice,” Jonathan said. “It’s a statement of fact, Shimmy.” To Decker he said, “Ezra hasn’t forgiven me for leaving the fold—”
“I haven’t either,” Shimon said.
“You?” Jonathan waved him off. “Who pays attention to you.”
Shimon laughed. “Of all of us, Jonathan had the best head for learning. He’s breaking my father’s heart with his Conservationism—”
“Conservatism,” Jonathan said.
“It’s all the same foolishness.” Shimon put a hand on Decker’s shoulder. “He won’t listen to us, but maybe he’ll listen to you. Talk to him.”
Decker smiled.
“Gornisht mein helfun,” Jonathan said. “Give it up. I’m too far gone.” He raised his eyebrows. “Unless you’re willing to give up Rina—”
“Forget it,” Decker said.
“Not even to save a soul?” Jonathan said.
“Your soul looks okay to me,” Decker said.
Jonathan patted his brother’s shoulder and said, “Hear that, Shimmy? An objective opinion.”
“Then again, I’m pretty new at assessing souls,” Decker said.
Jonathan smiled.
“Yonasan,” Shimon said, “can you do us all one favor? Can you not bait Papa for one whole meal? His heart isn’t what it used to be.”
“So what do you want me to say when he starts in on me?” Jonathan said.
“Don’t say anything.”
“Papa loves to debate me—”
“He doesn’t love it.”
“It revitalizes him.”
“Yonasan …”
“It does!”
Shimon spoke in a patient but parental voice. “Yonasan, Papa was shaken up by Mama’s sudden attack yesterday. Do a mitzvah and go easy on Papa.”
Jonathan threw up his hands. “Okay. I can always use another mitzvah at this time of year. I’ll lay off Papa.” He had a gleam in his eye. “But Ezra’s fair game—”
“Yonasan …”
“He doesn’t have a heart condition.” To Decker, Jonathan said, “Everyone at today’s table has a big mouth. Feel free to make a jerk out of yourself like we all do.”
“Speak for yourself.” Shimon turned serious. “I’m worried about Mama. She still looks a little shaky.”
“She must have caught my bug,” Decker said straight-faced.
“You felt shaky last night?” Shimon said.
“Very,” Decker answered.
“You look okay now,” Shimon said.
“I feel a little better,” Decker said.
“How are you enjoying New York?” Jonathan asked.
“I’m not used to such close quarters,” Decker said.
“It can be oppressive,” Jonathan said. “Especially if you’re used to a lot of space. Rina says you have a ranch with horses.”
“A small ranch,” Decker said. “A few acres.”
“Do you police your area on horseback?” Shimon asked.
Decker stared at him. Shimon had asked the question sincerely. He cleared his throat and said, “We don’t live on the wild frontier. We have regular houses, regular streets—”
“But no sidewalks,” Jonathan said. “Rina said there are no sidewalks.”
“The major streets have sidewalks,” Decker said. “How well do you know Rina, Jonathan?”
“You have streets without sidewalks?” Shimon said.
“Some of the streets don’t have sidewalks,” Decker said. To Jonathan, he said, “You and Rina do a lot of talking?”
Shimon said, “Where do you walk if you don’t have sidewalks? On people’s lawns?”
“There are these dirt curbs—”
“How quaint,” Jonathan said.
“Quaint is cobblestone streets,” Decker said. “Our area isn’t at all quaint.”
Jonathan said, “Rina says you have a lot of Hell’s Angels living near you.”
“Not right near us—”
“Hell’s Angels, gang shootings, highway shootings, and all those crazies on drugs …” Shimon shook his head, adjusted his hat. “And they say New York is bad? I bet I’m safer here than where you live. Because here I have neighbors that know me.”
Jonathan said, “Rina says in Los Angeles no one knows their neighbors.”
“That’s not really true,” Decker said. He realized he was sounding defensive. “Well, it’s sort of true. What else has Rina told you, Jonathan?”
Jonathan didn’t answer right away. Then he said, “Did Rina tell you I was her late husband’s best friend? Yitz and I grew up together.”
“Yitz and Yonasan used to learn together,” Shimon explained. “Every single night until Yitz and Rina moved to Israel. The two of them were amazing. Whenever they learned in the Bais Midrash, people gathered around them just to hear their fertile minds click—”
“A real dog and pony show,” Jonathan said.
“You loved to learn back then, Yonie,” Shimon said. “I remember the fire in your eye whenever you proved a point.”
“That was a glazed look from lack of sleep.”
“You loved it.” Shimmy became grave. “Yitz was a good influence on you. Now he’s gone and you’ve become an apikoros. We lost both of you in one year.”
Jonathan looked pained. “Not quite the same thing.”
Shimon put his arm around his brother and said, “You’re right. It’s not the same thing at all. I’m just saying you lost your love for learning when Yitz—”
“I pay an analyst for this, Shim,” Jonathan said.
“Ach,” Shimon said. “Analyst, shmanalyst. I have faith. I haven’t given up on you.”
Jonathan started to say something but changed his mind. They walked the next few steps without talking. Turning to Decker, Jonathan said, “I used to razz Yitz the same way I’m razzing you.” He rolled his tongue inside his cheeks. “He was a good guy.”
There was another moment of silence. Jonathan managed to put on a cheerful smile, then punched Decker lightly on the shoulder. “As far as Rina goes, I tried. God knows I tried … and tried … and tried and tried.”
Decker