Rogue Acts

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Rogue Acts Page 22

by Molly O'Keefe


  The relief Sam felt after Deborah had agreed to go to watch hockey with him on Saturday was palpable. But before he could give her more than a smile, someone had come over and yanked him into another conversation, leaving Deb alone with her sister.

  Each conversation he entered into followed the same playbook and covered a mix of business, the differences between DC, New York, and LA (he missed New York pizza and the subway equally), and how the current administration was making life difficult for everybody.

  Which is why he spent most of the rest of the evening searching Deborah out. He would go from a business conversation to a short one with her. With each passing moment, he learned more about the woman behind the classroom he helped to fund. She was funny, and without pretense.

  “Pineapple on pizza?” she wondered during one of those moments.

  “Yes,” he said, remembering a scene in LA with a few friends. “Absolutely. I love the combination of the sweet pineapple and the acidic sauce.”

  “You have no taste,” she informed him, gleefully, her eyes sparkling. “Next you’ll tell me a hot dog is a sandwich.”

  He laughed, but before he could answer that one, he was dragged off to another business conversation.

  Yes, he knew he was in DC to help a film, which meant a lot of his interactions would revert to that kind of business talk. Nevertheless, spending every waking hour talking business was not a good recipe for his continued wellbeing. Deb was the breath of fresh air he needed.

  All he had to do was, at some point, to tell her he’d been bankrolling her classroom.

  “My sister-in law’s a cool chick,” Liz finally said once she and Sam were alone. “Be careful though. I don’t want to have to kill you. I love my wife, but she’s a softie.”

  He laughed. “Honestly, I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’d love to have Deb as a friend. I don’t have many of those.”

  Liz nodded slowly, seeming to let the information sink in, maybe judging it, and him. “And if you guys don’t end up being just friends?”

  There was a LOT to think about, but only one thing he could tell Liz. “Then I’ll treat her like the queen she is. I won’t take anything to a place she doesn’t want it to go.”

  “I like that answer, and I especially like that you had to think about it.” Liz paused, and if she had been wearing glasses, Sam felt she would be giving him the ‘over the glasses’ look. “There’s a lot of shit going around regarding guys who don’t think, or who think that they’re the shit.”

  Yep. Sam knew about those. From President Crosby all the way down, there had been more reports about guys finally getting called out for their consistently atrocious behavior towards women.

  “There’s clearly a power differential,” he said. “I’d be an idiot if I didn’t create a great deal of wiggle room. But, ” he paused, because he knew the next words he uttered would be the most important. “I want to get to know her. And if she doesn’t want to get to know me, I’ll leave her alone.”

  Then Liz gave him what felt like the nod of permission. “Okay.”

  Deb usually wasn’t sure of what to make of her extroverted sister. Her film business focused friends and their parties, but this one had been nice. There were people she could speak to, not just Sam. But it was nice to speak to him. He wanted to hear whatever she had to say, about sports, about politics, and about how badly she craved a roll from her favorite restaurant. He didn’t care that she had dropped a fig on her sweater during another of their conversations.

  She wanted to find him before she left. Thankfully, he was trying to get away from a conversation with some random dude.

  “Hey,” he said, his eyes brightening in a way that warmed her insides as he turned away from the dude. “You doing okay?”

  There was concern on his face, and she liked that. Except she wondered what she’d done, or what she’d spilled to put it there. “I think I’m about done,” she said.

  “That’s right,” he said. “You had a long day, too?”

  “Didn’t involve travel or a kitten, but I think herding a bunch of kids earns me a nap.”

  “The teacher definitely deserves a nap,” he replied. “So you’re going to head out?”

  She nodded, ran a hand up through her hair. “Yeah.” She didn’t want an extended discussion about her school problems. She wanted to have a happy conversation with a hot guy. “But I’m looking forward to Saturday hockey.”

  His smile was lethal. It glowed. “Me too. Do you want me to meet you beforehand?”

  “I’m going to services first though, so I’ll meet you there?”

  Thankfully, his eyes weren’t actually LED lights; otherwise, she’d have ended up with a migraine. “I’m in the mood for temple too, actually. Honestly, I’m usually a Friday night guy, but I need to crash tomorrow night.”

  He was hot, Jewish, and went to services? She needed to pinch herself. “Do you go all the time?”

  She waited for him to answer as his cologne found permanent residence in her nostrils, his scent playing havoc with her brain.

  “I go when I need a touchstone. First Friday in a new city, first…time I can breathe after finishing a project, first…” he shrugged. “Regularly enough that a small temple would notice, seldom enough to be a random attendee in a large temple. I will not ask you where you’re going, though. I’ll call my cousin. He must have gone to a service he liked.”

  “If I see you there I’ll save you a seat?”

  He nodded, and the smile on his face melted her toes. “I’d like that.”

  And if she let herself think about it, she’d like spending the day with him, too.

  3

  Friday, 6 pm

  Sam got back to the apartment and let Toby out of the bathroom. The kitten zoomed out of the room, and jumped into the cardboard box Sam had deliberately left in the center of the living room.

  Toby was adorable but predictable, Sam noted as he lifted the kitten out of the box, rubbing the space behind his ears and his belly as Toby stretched, purring like an engine.

  Once he started to squirm, Sam put Toby on the floor to let him run around the living room a little bit. He got on the couch and called his cousin.

  “H’lo?”

  “What’s up?”

  Adam sounded happy, if not tired. “Hey. Just got on the train upstate. Late week at work, couldn’t wait, so I got out early and ran to Penn.”

  “How much time do you have?”

  “Bout ‘n hour and a half. Tam’s picking me up at the Albany station. So?”

  Yep. Having a girlfriend apparently agreed with Adam and Sam could not be happier for him. “Your place is treating me well and my kitten hasn’t destroyed everything in sight, so…I call it a win.”

  Adam snickered on the other end. “Glad to hear. And if he does, that’s your security deposit, not mine.”

  Now it was his turn to laugh. “Fine. Fine. So. Question.”

  “Yeah?”

  He wasn’t looking forward to having this conversation, but he had no choice at this point. “Did you have a Saturday service you liked?”

  The pause that followed extended, and Sam wondered whether his cousin had dropped the phone, or if he had lost reception.

  “You want to go to services?”

  After he’d finished making the first Shadow Squad movie, six years ago, he’d had a feeling of longing, a clear hole in his gut. He’d spent an extended period focusing on a character who drew power to protect his community. Yet he didn’t feel connected the community at all. So he’d gone to a Friday night service for the first time since his Bar Mitzvah. Since then, his semi regular service attendance had become necessary, like breathing. So yes. He wanted to go to services. But what he said to his cousin was: “Yeah. I’m in the mood. I need…”

  “You need a temple fix?”

  Adam’s phrasing was enough to make him laugh. “I guess? Dude, seriously…”

  Sam burst out laughing, as apparently did his cou
sin.

  “Dude,” Adam continued. “I’m not harshing on your self-care. I totally get it. You want to know which one I went to?”

  “Yes. Please. That would be awesome.”

  “If the Sixth and I synagogue has a service tomorrow morning, you need to go. My best friend loved that service, and I dug it too. Right up your alley.”

  “Sounds good,” Sam noted as he grabbed a pad out of his messenger bag and wrote down the name. “So I go from temple to hockey. Works for me.”

  “What time’s the game tomorrow?”

  Sam shifted. “We’ve got two, I think…but you’re still sending the Hockey for Hope emails. Why are you asking me?”

  Now it was Adam’s turn to laugh incredulously. “I’m on the train to upstate new York. Like I know the exact time for tomorrow’s games offhand. ”

  “You still send the emails.”

  “That’s only because Sophie is refusing to send them. She’s organizing everything on site, unless she gets yanked back to work because of an emergency.”

  Sophie Katz, it seemed, had her hands full. She was officially a DC based reporter for the Manhattan Times-Ledger’s International desk, though her main byline seemed to be associated with the revelations contained in what was presented as President Crosby’s infamous blackmail notebook. Rumors had her up for a prime slot on LBS. No wonder why she wanted nothing to do with a mailing list. “From what I hear, you’re lucky she’s helping you at all.”

  “Which is true. I am completely in debt to her, even though I…” Adam paused, and Sam wondered why. Adam did have his secrets, and Sam didn’t begrudge his cousin any of them. “Anyway, enjoy your night and enjoy tomorrow. Let me know if you’ve got questions, eh?”

  “Absolutely,” he replied just as Toby began to climb up the couch, settling onto his stomach. “Will do. You, too.”

  As he ended the call, Sam found himself looking forward to Saturday and all of its wonders.

  Pajamas, a glass of wine, bowl of ice cream and a silly, sweet romantic movie were on Deborah’s agenda for that Friday night. She’d had a wild week, and as she settled down under the blanket, her phone rang. As she stared at the call display, she wondered why she hadn’t put it on ‘do not disturb’. Of course, only her sister would call at eight thirty on a Friday night.

  “Hello?”

  “So what are you up to tonight?” Lisa said without preamble. “And tomorrow?”

  Deb loved her sister and her sister in law, but she was peopled out. “Pajamas and a movie, then probably services at the Sixth and I synagogue tomorrow morning.”

  “Why?”

  Why did she suddenly want to go to services? Many reasons. First, Deb was worried about what living in President Crosby’s world would mean for her sister and her wife. President Crosby was her best friend’s father and she knew personally what a horrible person he was. His awful personality attracted even worse people, and the administration he’d put together was meant to serve his awful ends and reflect his racist, anti-Semetic and homophobic views. Second, as a Jewish woman she needed to be around other Jews every once in a while. It also felt good to pray.

  Bottom line, here were so many different reasons to go to temple, and so many reasons to stay away. She did not say any of that to her sister. All she said was, “Because I feel like it. It’s been a while and I…”

  “You’re going to see him.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Sam. You should see Sam.”

  Lisa had always equated happiness with being in a relationship; even more so since she’d found Liz and a marriage of her own. As of late, she’d decided to emulate the matchmaking mamas and bubbies of stage, screen and other people’s realities. If there were even a hint that she was having a conversation with a guy, Lisa would have her under a chuppah.

  “I’m going to services,” she finally said. “If Sam decides to go and even if he ends up at the service I’m going to that’s great, but it’s not important. Because I’m going for me. I need to go to a service that takes place in a temple that doesn’t house my school.”

  “You also need to see the guy,” Lisa continued undeterred. “Sam.”

  So they’d gone from the over excitement about his being there, to matchmaking and work. Something must have happened “Have you decided what you want him to do?”

  There was a long pause. “We got the letter from the Maccabee Festival.”

  The festival was to be a Jewish celebration of resistance, highlighting contributions made by Jews and non-Jews alike to fight against tyranny, both in the past and in modern times. It was going to take place during Chanukah. The team had planned for the festival to be a celebration for the small movie, since they’d already had a premiere.

  Unfortunately, from the tone of her sister’s voice, she could tell the festival’s email had contained a rejection. “I’m sorry.”

  “They didn’t say no, but they did say there were things they wanted us to do to change it enough? You know? We just weren’t sure if we could. But Sam? He’s totally willing to help us with the checklist and we figured out a game plan this morning.”

  “That’s amazing. He seemed excited about the movie.”

  Deb could tell when her sister seemed to relax just a small bit. “I’m glad. It feels like it was meant to be for a lot of reasons.”

  She smiled and looked down at her melted bowl of ice cream and smiled. “I’m so, so proud of you, Lisa. Seriously. No matter what happens with whatever changes you decide to make, you need to remember that you made an amazing movie about all of these resistance movements. ”

  “And you, my dear sister, are educating the next generation of resistance fighters. Or hopefully citizens who won’t need to resist, but who will be educated enough to go ahead and vote for the right people.”

  She smiled. Her sister was brilliant. “Thank you, Lisa.”

  “Anyway, you sound tired. Go to sleep and you’ll deal with the nonsense in the morning. Which one?”

  Deb had almost forgotten that she’d started the conversation by telling her sister that she was going to synagogue. “Sixth and I probably.”

  “Good. Go. Let someone in for once. Love you. I may see you there.”

  Lisa’s sudden interest in attending temple smelled too much of meddling and matchmaking for Deb’s liking. But here, in her comfortable, cozy, solitary apartment, she wasn’t going to question her sister’s motives. Instead, she smiled. “Good. Love you, too.”

  As her sister hung up the phone, Deb lay against the couch, restarted the movie, turned back to her melted ice cream, and wondered if it were possible to salvage it.

  4

  Saturday

  Services had been lovely, and going had felt good, except when Deb realized the time after closing prayers had finished and she’d had a bit of food at the post service meal. She’d arranged to meet Sam just outside the rink where the game was taking place, which meant she had to get home and change into non-temple clothing.

  The light chill of winter in the district had arrived, and she hated running in heels. So it was a toss up between running and freezing. She chose the running, and ran toward the metro entrance.

  She stopped, trying desperately to catch her breath, breathing hard as her feet turned into aching pits of despair. She knew she’d made shitty life choices. The shoes were the most comfortable things on carpet, but turned to torture devices on any other surface. Unfortunately, there were mostly the latter type of surfaces between her apartment and the temple. The horrible metro carpet did not count.

  Breathing hard wasn’t enough though; she found herself bending over while gasping, and reaching for her feet in a feeble attempt to give both her lungs and toes a breath.

  “Hi.”

  Apparently, it seemed that Sam was always going to appear while she was in the middle of her worst moments. Like this particular one, where she probably looked like a twisted up tomato. All the same, she smiled as she straightened up and turned towa
rds him. “Hey. What’s up?”

  Of course he looked gorgeous and not at all like he had to rush to get here. “Just got out of services, heading to see a hockey game. You know.”

  “You went to services?”

  He nodded. “Sat in the back, stayed quiet. I saw you though.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “So why didn’t you come and join me? I saved you a seat, you know.”

  “I came late,” he said, a grimace on his face. “I was already disturbing people when I came in, so I didn’t want to make it worse.”

  Of course. Sam Moskowitz could not just meander through the aisle to find her. If he had gotten in and nobody was paying attention, she understood. “I get it. But you didn’t come to find me after services?”

  He laughed. “I didn’t want to make a scene. I waited in my pew, talked to the rabbi, who seemed cool, and then headed out.”

  Right. Sam Moskowitz couldn’t just meander through the crowd of people heading towards the post service meal. The fact that he was standing on the sidewalk next to her was probably dangerous. “So…”

  “It’s fine. Really.” He paused. “You want a ride to the game?”

  She grinned, gestured at her outfit. “Not like this.”

  He nodded, gestured at his tie. “Yeah. My cousin apparently used to go direct from temple, but he was playing, so he had the excuse of changing there.”

  “And the facility in which to do so.” She sighed. “And mine is back at my apartment along with what I’m changing into.”

  He nodded and she wondered what he was thinking. “I can take you back to your apartment…”

  She bit her lip. She appreciated the offer but she didn’t know him, not really. They’d had a bunch of short conversations, but she’d only met him the night before. The last thing she wanted was for him to know her address. “I’m fine,” she said, moving from foot to foot in an attempt to put too much pressure on either of her feet “I can take the metro.”

  “Look,” he said. “The car is comfortable, you’ll be off your feet a little bit, and I can drop you a certain distance away from your apartment, say a block or so? Close enough where it makes sense to drive and far enough away where I don’t know where you’re going.”

 

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