Five Minutes to Love

by Jennifer Wilck

“Good.” He stroked her hair. “I love this surprise.”

  “You deserve a break from all your stress. It’s peaceful out here. Almost as if we are somewhere other than Manhattan.”

  “It’s a great reprieve, although I love the hustle of the city. There’s a vibrancy you just don’t find anywhere else.”

  The gondolier’s rhythmic strokes were hypnotizing. “True, but it’s busy and hectic. There’s noise everywhere.”

  “That just adds to the excitement. What about you?”

  “I like coming in when there’s something specific I want to do. But given a chance, I wouldn’t be averse to somewhere else.”

  “But you’re in PR. Can you do that outside of a city?”

  “My options might be more limited, but I can still do it. I could also open my own business, which can be done anywhere.”

  “Is that what you want to do? Have your own firm?”

  “I like the idea of it. I’d have to see how I feel in a few years. But the idea appeals to me.”

  “I think you’d be great. You should pursue it if it’s something you want.”

  She smiled, once again warmed by his complete faith in her.

  When their half hour ride was over, they disembarked and strolled through Central Park. Two guys playing Frisbee missed. Jacob leaped to catch it. He threw it to them, waved off their thanks and continued walking.

  “Want to climb Belvedere Castle?” Jacob asked.

  “Pirates and castles?”

  Jacob shrugged. At the top, they admired the view of the Great Lawn, the Ramble, and Turtle Pond.

  “Are you ready for our next adventure?” Aviva asked.

  “Will you tell me what it is?”

  “Where’s the fun in that?”

  They flagged a cab. Aviva handed the driver an address.

  “Wow, you won’t even let me hear the address. You take surprises very seriously.”

  “I’m totally hardcore.”

  They held hands during the drive; actually, he hadn’t let go except for the few times that were absolutely necessary. She liked it. It was a physical expression of their connectedness, one she began to appreciate. She didn’t want anything to separate them. Jacob stared out the window, but Aviva paid attention to his hand. The thumb, to be precise. It caressed the back of her hand, ran over her knuckles, absentmindedly, as if it was the most natural thing to do. The nail was square and neat, the skin was olive, the pads were smooth. She watched, mesmerized.

  The stillness, after their stop-and-go ride, distracted her from Jacob’s thumb.

  “South Street!” Jacob smiled. “I haven’t been here in a while.”

  “It’s on every modern pirate’s to-do list.” They strolled down the cobblestone street toward the pier. At this time of day, the place teemed with tourists. Street performers juggled and did acrobatics to music and cheers. Gulls cried overhead. The briny smell wafted across the wharf.

  Aviva led Jacob to the tall ships. “Want to go on board?”

  He nodded. They purchased tickets for the ships. After walking around the lobby area of the museum and viewing the interpretive displays, they exited the building and boarded the Peking. For forty-five minutes, Aviva listened as Jacob extolled the virtues, history, and usage of the one-hundred-and-four-year old ship. His enthusiasm was contagious. Though her interests lay elsewhere, Aviva was fascinated.

  “I never knew it was possible to get excited about a ship that carried bird dung,” she teased as they disembarked.

  He spun her around. “I hope I didn’t bore you.”

  “Not at all. Honestly, I liked touring the ship with someone who knew what they were talking about. You brought it to life.”

  “These ships fascinate me.”

  “I can see that.”

  Arm in arm, they strolled along Water Street.

  “Do you mind if we go into Browne & Co.? I love their printmaking.”

  “Sure.” Jacob held the door. They explored the shop and letterpresses and stopped to chat a few moments with the master printer before they returned outside.

  “Hungry?”

  “Starved,” Jacob said.

  They walked into the Trading Post and sat at a table overlooking the East River. After ordering yellowfin tuna tacos, as well as a Blue Moon and a Bronx Pale Ale, they admired the view.

  “So, tell me what all this was about,” Jacob said after a few moments passed.

  She looked at him, relaxing in his chair. “I wanted to treat you to a day out, doing things you liked, without worrying about studying, or me, or anything else. Think of it as my graduation present to you.”

  They sipped their drinks.

  “Well, it was great,” Jacob said. “I enjoyed it. You’re right. I am totally relaxed. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I’ll think back to this every time I’m sick of studying for the Bar exam.”

  Aviva shook her head. “When do you start?”

  “I started in January, actually. The test is in July. These next two months are crunch time. That’s why today was perfect.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Their food arrived. They stopped talking while they tasted it. In the middle of the afternoon, the restaurant was busy, but not packed. A low hum filled the silence as couples and groups at other tables talked in the background.

  “What are you thinking?” Jacob asked.

  “Nothing, why?”

  “So, there’s not even a tiny part of your brain wondering how much time I’ll be able to make for you while I study for the Bar exam?”

  Aviva covered her mouth as she stifled a laugh. He knew her well. “I’m doing my best to learn from the past. You’ve made time for me before. You came through when I was hurt. I’m sure everything will be okay.”

  “Wow, I’m impressed.”

  “Well, that and you’ll be finished by the end of July. I can handle being ignored for a couple months.”

  He threw his napkin at her.

  She laughed. “Got ya!”

  “Just when I started to think you might believe me.” He forked a bite of food into his mouth.

  She covered his hand. “I do believe you. Truly. I care about you deeply. But I also know the Bar exam is a short period of time. Worst-case scenario, if I can’t see you as often as I’d like, I’ll manage. You’re worth waiting for. Okay?”

  He flipped his hand over to grasp hers. “Okay.”

  When they finished eating and Aviva had paid for the meal, they headed outside.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” she said. “I have something for you.” Reaching into her purse, she handed him an envelope.

  “What’s this?”

  “Won’t know until you open it.”

  He rolled his eyes, ran his finger through the envelope flap and pulled out the insert. “An invitation to your gala?”

  “Yeah, I thought you’d like to go as my date.” Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe he’d think it was stupid. Maybe he was trying to figure out a way to say no.

  His cheeks spread into a wide grin. “I’d love to.” He leaned down, took her in his arms and kissed her.

  She melted into him, savored his warmth.

  “Thanks for inviting me.” He pulled away. “Thank you for today. It was great.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Thank you for everything you did for me when I was hurt.”

  He chucked her under her chin. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m your boyfriend. That’s what we do.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Aviva sat in the Prudential Center with Jacob’s mother and the families of the other law school graduates as the names were called. After quizzing Aviva on her recovery from the accident, her ability to take time off for Jacob’s graduation, and complimenting her on her dress, his mother kvelled next to her about Jacob. Aviva couldn’t blame her. There was something awe-inspiring about watching these students reach their goal. Knowing how much effort Jacob put into this made it more a
mazing.

  Especially when you considered she’d almost messed everything up for him. She shook her head to rid herself of the thought, wiping a tear from her eye.

  Karen leaned over. “My son the lawyer.” She beamed with pride. “You know what makes me even prouder of him?”

  Aviva shook her head.

  “Because for all the nagging I do about making time to see me and prioritizing things in life, he manages to balance everything and still do well.”

  Aviva tried not to show her reaction to Karen’s words. Was this woman psychic? If she was, there could be definite problems down the road—a psychic mother-in-law? Holy cow.

  “Don’t look surprised, sweetheart.” Karen patted her leg. “You think I don’t worry about his finding time for life in his life? I do. All the time. But look at how well he did after your accident.”

  Aviva shook her head. “I could have messed everything up for him.” Other audience members turned to look at her. She lowered her voice. “I feel guilty,” she whispered.

  “Nonsense. You didn’t mess anything up. If you think he hasn’t spent forever studying, you’re crazy. He spends so much time doing it, if he misses a day or two, he’d still be fine. He was. Because he’s there.”

  She pointed toward the sea of black mortarboards. He was toward the front, but she couldn’t tell exactly where.

  “Oh,” she said, turning to Karen, “they just called his name.” They pulled out their cameras and pointed them toward the podium as he exited his row, followed the line of other graduates toward the stage, and made his way toward the podium. He shook hands with the Dean, received his diploma, and turned toward the audience. Aviva would swear she saw him wink at her, but he couldn’t have. He didn’t know where they were seated, did he?

  After he made his way to his seat, Karen leaned toward her once again. “Don’t doubt for a moment he can’t handle you and his studies. He doesn’t talk a lot about his feelings, but he is excellent at managing expectations.”

  Aviva, lulled by the drone of names called from the stage, thought about Karen’s words. She let go of the guilt. She had to believe, or at least try to believe, Jacob. There was simply no other option.

  When the last graduate was called and the last speech was made, Jacob made his way to them. Karen grabbed him and held him in a hug. Arms wrapped around his mother, he made eye contact with Aviva. She smiled. Once Karen let go, he leaned toward her. She kissed him chastely—his mother was here, after all.

  “I’m proud of you.” She fingered the tassel that hung from his mortarboard.

  He grabbed her in a hug, put his lips against her ear. “Would it be wrong of me to say I’m proud of you for dealing with my mother for the last hour and a half?”

  She smacked his arm with her good hand.

  “Okay, you two. Before we do anything else, has my son invited you to Shabbat dinner yet?”

  “Ma!”

  Aviva swiveled between Jacob and his mother. “No, but between my accident and his studying and graduation, there hasn’t been time.”

  “That’s sweet of you to defend him, but an invitation takes two seconds to give. He is very good at wiggling out of them. We’ll take care of this right now. How is this Friday?”

  When Jacob started to object, Aviva placed a hand on his arm. “I think it’s okay. What time would you like us, and what can I bring?”

  “Oh, that’s not necessary, sweetheart. Just bring my son and come about six. Jacob, make sure to look nice when you come. I don’t want her to think I raised a slob. Now, how about we go out for something to eat?”

  “Ma, I told you I don’t have time to celebrate. I need to study.”

  Karen met Aviva’s gaze. “I know you do, but you have to have time for at least an ice cream cone, right?”

  Wrapping his arms around Aviva and Karen, Jacob nodded. “Okay, an ice cream cone I can do.”

  As they left the theater, Aviva kept her eyes on Karen. She was formidable, but she could also teach her a thing or two.

  ****

  “Ready?”

  Aviva stood with him in the silver-carpeted hallway of his mother’s condo. He wasn’t ready. Aviva couldn’t possibly be, even if she had managed to handle his mother during graduation. An hour and a half in an auditorium filled with people wasn’t the same as a Shabbat dinner with just the three of them and no set end-time.

  “Ready,” she said.

  Ah, the confidence of the inexperienced. He shook his head. He was leading a lamb to slaughter. She was used to bowing to her dad; there was no way she’d be able to stand up to someone like his mother. His mother met lots of girlfriends over the years. She was very vocal about her opinions, and she always had an opinion. The women were too loose, too uptight, too boring, too loud, or not intelligent enough. She commented on their clothes, their hair, their makeup, and their manners. Except for the times she didn’t. Those times, she was uncomfortably silent. Even with prompting, she said nothing. Aviva would need a lot of help.

  She took his hand and squeezed it. Maybe she was nervous. He wanted his mother to like Aviva, because he was starting to think he and Aviva might have a future together. As he reached for the doorknob, he realized how much he wanted a future with Aviva. He turned the handle and ushered her inside.

  “Ma?”

  Heels clattered on the tiled floor. His mother appeared in the darkened hallway. Her smile practically lit up the enclosed space. “Jacob! Aviva! How nice to see you!” She pulled Jacob’s head down for a kiss, turned toward Aviva, and grasped her hand. “I’m glad you’re here.” She pulled her down the hallway, leaving Jacob to follow. This was new.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Pretty good, Mrs. Black. I can’t wait to get this cast off.”

  “Call me Karen, please. Now, I hope you like brisket. You’re not a vegetarian, are you? Jacob didn’t say anything about that…”

  “Oh, I love brisket. Please don’t worry about me. I’m sure whatever you serve will be delicious.”

  Jacob shook his head; he followed the two women into the living room. They chatted as if he didn’t exist. Chatted pleasantly. For now, at least.

  “Jacob, why don’t you get everyone a drink.”

  He walked to the sideboard and poured himself a scotch. “Aviva, what would you like? Mom?”

  “I’ll have a gin and tonic, Jacob, thank you,” his mother said.

  “Good idea, I’ll have one too,” Aviva said.

  As he mixed, he looked out the window onto the deck. The deep gold velvet drapes had been pulled back. Although the sun had begun to set, it was still high enough on the horizon to provide a view. Turning, he handed his mother and girlfriend their drinks, took his own, and leaned against the sideboard. He could get a good overview here and hopefully prevent anything bad from happening. You know, swoop in like a superhero. Yeah right. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried to mask the wry laughter bubbling inside as he imagined his mother’s and girlfriend’s looks if he showed up in a cape and tights.

  “Jacob, don’t stand there like a ficus tree. Come sit down.”

  He sat on the pale gold upholstered chair, gripped his drink, and made circles in the gold and green Oriental carpet with his heel.

  “Aviva, you were able to get off work in time to come here today?”

  “During the summer, my office closes at four on Fridays. It’s a nice chance to start the weekend early.”

  “That’s wonderful. I guess you work longer hours during the rest of the week?”

  “Usually until about seven, depending on the work that needs to get done. You have a lovely home, Karen.”

  “I moved here after Jacob graduated college. Our old home was lovely, but I didn’t want to be bothered with the upkeep.”

  A beep sounded in the kitchen. His mother rose. “Please excuse me. Help yourselves to hors d’oeuvres.”

  Jacob called out to her. “Do you need any help?”

  She beamed. “No, I’m fine. But tha
nk you for asking.”

  “I don’t know why you were worried,” Aviva whispered. “Your mother is lovely.”

  “Just wait.” He leaned over and dipped a pita chip into hummus. Offering one to Aviva, he took another for himself.

  “Should I offer to help?” Aviva asked.

  “No, she said she’s fine. Don’t worry.”

  He tried to see the living room from Aviva’s perspective. It was his mother’s home, but he’d never felt relaxed here, especially in this room. The furniture wasn’t comfortable, he was always worried he’d stain it and it wasn’t the kind of “sprawl on your back and hang” kind of room he liked. But did Aviva like it? She sat in the corner of the sofa, legs crossed, her non-sling arm resting on the armrest. She didn’t seem tense. In fact, she seemed more at ease than he was. Maybe the warm-up meeting during graduation was a good thing. He took a breath.

  His mother returned. “Dinner’s just about ready. Jacob, would you pour the wine, please? Aviva, come with me.”

  His mother led her into the dining room. When Jacob was finished, they lit the candles, said the prayer, and sat.

  “Jacob, will you say the bracha for the wine, please?”

  He did, and they each took a sip. He swished a little in his mouth before swallowing. It was a Yarden 2008 Merlot. His mother recited the bracha over the challah and passed around the food. Jacob served the brisket to his mother and Aviva.

  “Avs, do you want noodles? Green beans?” He held her plate and waited for an answer.

  “Of course. Thanks. Mrs. Black, oh, sorry. Karen, do you want some water?”

  Distracted for a moment by the pretty blush that stained her cheeks at her slip, he held the serving spoon suspended midair. She was beautiful. Her graceful neck and delicate collarbone accentuated high cheekbones.

  “Yes, Aviva, thank you. Jacob! You’re going to stain the tablecloth.”

  With a start, he moved the spoon back over the tureen. This time, he concentrated on serving people. Aviva wasn’t prepared for his mother, who could squash her with one or two pointed comments. It wouldn’t do to get distracted. He wouldn’t be able to rescue Aviva if she needed it.

  His mother turned to Aviva. “Is Avs a nickname?”

  Jacob held his breath. See, they’d walked into an invisible minefield. His mother didn’t like nicknames. He remembered how often she made comments to him about his friends and their nicknames. “Why ruin a perfectly good name your parents spent time picking out with something like that?” was a favorite refrain as he grew up. He should have remembered, made sure to use her full name in front of his mother.