The offer was tempting, but she paused, staring up at him. “You’re driving?”
He shook his head. “A car service. I’ve been advised against the subway because it sucks, and the cabs are worse. So I’ve got a driver…”
Of course he did. He wasn’t a local; lord knew who’d actually want to drive on the streets of DC if they didn’t have to. “In a manner of speaking and most of the time, the metro sucks. But then again, don’t most of them? And yes,” she said. “You can drop me off about a block away from my place. Saving my feet for the change in shoes and the rest of the day seems like a good idea. I’ll meet you at Kettler, ok?”
He nodded. “That sounds good. And,” he gestured as a black town car pulled up, “that’s my car.” He laughed. “It’s so cliché, but it works.”
As he opened the door for her, she smiled at him. This was going to be nice. And handy, she thought.
Sam dropped Deb off, ran into the apartment, let Toby out of the bathroom as he changed. Once he’d changed into jeans and a USA hockey jersey, he snuggled Toby, then changed his food and water and cleaned his litter box. Once all that was done, he lured the little cotton ball out from under the couch with a rustle of tissue paper and then deposited him back in the bathroom.
Then he headed off to Kettler. He didn’t see Deb at the assigned meeting place, and he started to get worried.
“Sam?”
He turned around to see a face he was used to seeing on his TV screen. “Hi?”
“Sophie Katz,” she said without preamble. “I’m supposed to make sure you’re ok.”
He shook his head. “Let me guess. My cousin emailed you. ”
She nodded. “Yep. Told me it was part of my responsibility for the day. You know. Watch out for the out of town guests. All that lovely stuff.”
He nodded. “Sounds just like my cousin. Excellent.”
She smiled, and he could see the unasked question flit across her face. He braced himself. “Did you fulfill the bet?”
He wasn’t sure why she’d asked that as opposed to anything else, but the hockey bet he’d made with another actor was a fun but safe subject. “We’re still talking. I’m here at the moment and he’s doing something so we…”
“Hi.”
The sound of Deborah’s voice made him stop in his tracks. He didn’t do it often; it had pretty much been trained out of him, but Deb. He turned, meeting her eyes and the smile on her face with his own. “You made it.”
“I did,” she replied.
He couldn’t get the words out to reply to her; he was relieved and excited all at once. So he turned to the reporter who looked back and forth between them. “Sophie, this is…”
“Deb Taubman. Local preschool teacher.”
“And,” Sophie interjected, “friend of…”
“Preschool teacher,” Deb answered firmly, a hand on her hip as if she was going into battle. “I’m a preschool teacher and the sister of a director. I’m here to watch hockey. We can talk about my sister’s movie, we can talk about kids, we can talk about hockey and that’s about it. We’re not talking about my friends. On or off the record.”
“You’re a friend of a friend of Max’s,” Sophie stated, stopping Deb in her tracks. “Max said to watch out for you too.”
Suddenly, Deb was at a loss for words. “You’re talking to Max?”
Deb had a connection to his cousin’s best friend? That was definitely something to ask her later.
“Yeah.” Sophie shook her head. She motioned to him. “I’m watching over this for him and this yahoo’s cousin.”
“Except,” Sam interjected, “Adam is still sending emails.”
Sophie snickered and Deb looked intrigued. “I told him I can organize on site, but I cannot be responsible for admin. Not my thing. He wants me to do this for him? Then he or Max should be taking care of the admin.”
Both he and Deb found reason to nod. “Reasonable,” he said.
“Anyway,” Sophie said, “You should go and sit and watch some hockey. The games are about to start.”
Sam turned towards the ice. Sure enough, the referee was about to drop the puck for the first faceoff, and so he said goodbye to Sophie and led Deb to their seats.
Deb continued to be amazed how easy it was to talk to Sam. It was comfortable to sit while talking hockey and fandom – thankfully he was also an Empires fan – as they watched the different teams.
“You have any team preferences?”
She laughed. “I’m not rooting for any particular team today.” Then she had to explain. “Would you believe this is the first time I’m here? I mean it’s something that I’ve always meant to do, but I was so crazy stressed with the admin I had to do for my old job. I never gave myself time to breathe. Now? There’s so much less admin, so much less worry, and so much less fear.”
“What happened?”
“I had to partner up with a temple to host the preschool I’d started when I couldn’t afford the rent on the space. Now, I’m doing what I love and I don’t have to do a lot of the admin I used to. It’s a win. But it’s hard and freeing all at the same time.”
He nodded. “Yeah. It feels freeing here. Weird, but freeing. Like back home, I know where to go, how to deal with being what I do for a living. Here I have no idea, but it’s fine so far. I’m comfortable.”
She nodded, and it felt good to be understood. “Me, too,” she said as she took the hand he offered her. “Me, too.”
Sam was pleased to discover that Deb was also a loud hockey fan. He could scream at the ice, cheer, and not worry about embarrassing anybody. More importantly, Adam had told him the arena was a safe zone and protecting people’s privacy was important. Otherwise, according to an early email, nobody would ever go.
But even after a long day of hockey watching and rink food, Sam was still nervous; broaching any possible extensions of their time together after they’d known each other (in person) for a day. And as he descended the stairs that took him down to the aisles and the exit, he smiled at her. “So any plans afterwards?”
“Don’t know.” She shrugged, and then covered her mouth to disguise a yawn – a move he recognized. She grinned. “Maybe go home, sleep. It’s been a long day.”
“It has,” he said, before the yawn hit him, too. “Tomorrow?” He paused, stopping his words when he realized the kind of impression he was giving and the pressure he was putting on her. “I’m …look. I’m coming on strong. I’m sorry…”
“You didn’t run away when our first interaction involved me dropping a fig on my sweater, nor did you run away when I was twisted up like a pretzel and breathing my lungs out before the game.” She grinned. “I call it a win.”
He nodded, a bit more relaxed. “Okay. I’m glad to hear that. And you know that if you don’t want anything to do with me, you can tell me and…”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re a guy I’d like to get to know. We’ve spent some time together, and I like the way you make me feel.”
He loved the sound of her words, and her tone of voice warmed his heart. But he had to reply in a way that wouldn’t scare her. “I like that. A lot. So this is going to sound weird…but it’s because of me?”
In the moment after the words left his mouth, he wanted to take them back and shove them into the darkest depths of his heart.
Deb took a deep breath. “So, you know why that woman…Sophie, really wanted to talk to me?”
He shook his head. “No…”
He watched and waited, wondering what she was going to tell him.
After a while she said, “my best friend from college has parents she hates, as well as two siblings she cannot stand. On the plus side, she has a baby sister she would kill for, and a brand-new boyfriend. Max.”
He blinked. “What? You mean your best friend is Max’s girlfriend Caroline? As in Caroline Crosby? The President’s daughter Caroline?”
She smiled. “Yes. Anyway, I haven’t talked to her for a while because she’s so
mewhere I don’t know. Nor do I want to know. However, she’s about to enter into a very public custody battle for her younger sister that will force her father into a very uncomfortable light. So, blinding lights aren’t very much but hot.”
“Right.” He nodded, understanding. Being friends with someone like Caroline, especially now, would prepare her to be around him at the worst of times, when he couldn’t get a moment of privacy. DC had been safe so far, but he wasn’t going to hold his breath. “Okay,” he finally said. “I see.”
She nodded back at him, looking up at him with an expression he couldn’t decipher. “Do you cook? Because if you did we wouldn’t have to worry about brunch places. Otherwise…”
“I can make an omelet. “ He paused, ideas going through his head. Was she a cat person? Toby’s breed was pretty safe for people with allergies to cats, but there were always people who didn’t like being around cats. “How do you feel about mischievous Devon Rex kittens?”
“Devon Rex?”
“Odd looking, but adorable. A tiny little cotton ball. Climber. He gets into everything. I’ve discovered he likes hair ties for some reason. “
She raised an eyebrow. “Hair ties?”
He nodded. “My sister lost at least a box of them before she discovered who’d been stealing them.”
“What time should I come over? And where?”
“The Palisade,” he replied, trying and probably failing to disguise the relief he felt. “Eleven?”
She nodded. “That sounds great.” She smiled. “I’ll bring hair ties.”
“He will love you forever and insist on playing fetch.”
She laughed. “This will be fun?”
“I hope so.”
5
Two weeks later
Monday
Deb knew when she walked into the production offices that Sam was recording the brand new introduction to the movie, and that he would be starting on the new narrative track. She brought a bag of lozenges as well as a hot mint tea with honey.
“You’re so into him,” Lisa said as she took the huge thermos of tea. “But he’s been amazing for the movie and…you’re smiling. Maybe…”
She rolled her eyes. “We’ve been hanging out for two weeks and he’s about to go to Boston.”
Of course, as she said that, her sister’s eyes lit up like a menorah on the eighth night. Deb could almost see the wedding scene as it unfolded in her sister’s eyes.
The dangerous line of thought had to be stopped.
“Oh come on,” she scolded. “We’re friends.”
“And you’re bringing him tea?”
She shrugged. “He’s been narrating all day and I figured…that’s what friends do, you know?”
“What’s what friends do?” Marcus wondered as he walked over to them. “You figured we wouldn’t take care of his throat? Please. What kind of people do you think we are?”
“Creatives?” Deb shook her head. “You people don’t stop to do anything, you know. So…”
“You figured you’d do it for us, but only for him.” Lisa put her hand on her hip. “I see how this goes.”
“How what goes?” Sam joined the group and her heart stopped.
“Hi,” she managed. “I…”
“Hi there,” Sam said, smiling at her. “And you brought tea. I can smell it from here. I can’t thank you enough.”
The world fell away and she shrugged in his direction. “I figured you’d been talking all day, and this is my favorite on days like that.”
He took the travel mug, his fingers brushing hers, his eyes locked on her. “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll also take one of your lozenges. We still on for dinner?”
She nodded, trying to keep a smile from exploding all over her face. “Absolutely.”
“Good. I have a bit more to go…”
“And I’ll just keep her busy while she’s here.”
Deb knew what her sister was talking about; matchmaking and asking stupid questions, of course, but she grinned anyway. “I’m good at folding letters, stuffing envelopes, and licking stamps if need be.”
“And using postal machines?”
“Whatever you need,” Deb said, smiling. “I’m your girl.”
“Well then,” Marcus gestured towards a table full of envelopes and flyers. “Let’s get to work.”
So she nodded, rolled up her sleeves, and got to work.
A few hours later, Sam had finished the tape, only to leave the booth and discover the group sitting in front of a computer screen.
“We’re not getting much information, but it seems that across the country, there’s been a suspicious string of bomb threats aimed at local Jewish Community centers. Threats have been called in from New York, California, South Dakota, Texas, and Wisconsin. There’s been no rhyme or reason to the pattern but…”
As the newscaster continued to give the latest updates, and statistics flashed across the screen, Sam grabbed Deborah’s hand.
“It’s scary.” Lisa said, her head on Liz’s shoulder. “I mean…”
“They’re horrible people,” Marcus said as Joe, the audio guy, gave Sam a thumbs up before joining the group.
“It shouldn’t be surprising,” Deb managed. “But…it’s a trifecta. Racism, homophobia, and anti-Semitism are a matched trio. I’ve seen how horrible Crosby and his crowd are. They’ve have always been horrible, and with their rise to power, they’ve sent signals to the lowest common denominator of society that it’s okay to be openly garbage. To…”
“Every time society is confronted with anti-Semitism, people swear they’ll confront it and act against it. That they’ll never let it happen again. Never again, they say. We need to make sure that they meant it.” Marcus turned around.
“Not enough,” Sam said, letting Deb lean into him, feeling the comfort of his soapbox. “It’s not enough just to fight anti-Semitism. I mean… that’s… yes,” he laughed at the irony of his words. “I mean yes we need to fight anti-Semitism. But if we just fight anti-Semitism, what are we? Who are we? We need to fight for all marginalized people. There’s been travel bans that affect Muslims. There’s been legislation whose intent is strictly to strip the LBGTQIA community of both the ability to marry and the legal benefits associated with marriage.”
“Yes,” Liz interjected. “We know. Stop ‘splaining, dude. That’s why we’re fighting. And why we’re shining a light on people who do.” She sighed. “And thank you for helping us do that.”
“It’s the very least I can do,” he replied. But there were more important things he had to say. He did not want to be that ‘guy’ who acted as if he knew better than anybody else did even though he didn’t possess even a quarter of his or her experience. “And please, keep calling me out for being an ass. I deserve it.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lisa nodding at Liz. More importantly, he felt Deb’s arm come around him.
Deb got into Sam’s car, entirely unable to process the new reality she lived in. Sam was a rock, and her inability to let him go didn’t seem to faze him.
“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” she told him. “I mean…”
He nodded. “You have hair ties?”
She cracked the smallest of smiles, and thought about how his answer was normal. Not like the dinner, this invitation had turned into an offer of shelter during a storm. “Two packets.”
“Good.”
Then he reached out for her, and she let his arms encircle her. The warmth of his body under his parka comforted her even as the horror of what she’d seen on the news replayed in her mind.
Fear mixed with guilt as she lay against him, and she tried to figure out what hurt her so much. Yes, seeing how easily anti-Semitism infiltrated society without consequence was painful. But always, always, the pain came with the reminder that there were those who had more to lose than she did.
“I tried to be strong for Lisa,” she said. “And I think I managed it? Maybe?”
“You did,”
he said. She felt the touch of his fingers, running through her hair, his knuckles rubbing against her cheeks. “It’s hard, though.”
“Yeah.” She sniffled, blinking back more tears. “It’s just…we walk on that thin line between safety and fear. We need to fight for others, but they’ll come for us, too. They’re already coming for us.”
His lips brushed against her cheek and the soft touch warmed her from the inside. “All we can do is walk. March. Fight for and with those who don’t have that thin line to walk on. Speak against injustice. Act and do more.”
She took a breath as he looked into her eyes. There was fire there. Fire, and fuel.
“If they pull that rug out from under us? We fight back. Because what kind of Jews would we be? What kind of people would we be, if we didn’t?”
That was when she realized the car had stopped. He looked at the door, asking a billion unspoken questions. Was she ok to walk by herself? Did she want him to help her inside? She smiled and squeezed his hand with her free one and nodded. Yep. She was not okay to walk by herself and wanted to go into his place, hand in hand, relying on his strength and his warmth.
“Okay.” He smiled tentatively, like they hadn’t spent brunches together, like they hadn’t watched hockey games or screamed at each other about random things that annoyed either of them over text or phone calls. Like she hadn’t come to visit him and his crazy kitten before.
But this was different. They had chosen to spend time at his place because of Toby and because this apartment building seemed more secure than hers was. Now it was a refuge, and much more convenient to let him inside her heart while she was lying on his couch, playing with his kitten than letting him into her life for real. Especially when he was going to have to leave it sooner than later.
For some reason it made Sam giddy to see Deb throwing hair ties for Toby, repeatedly and constantly. She didn’t get tired of the game, though she was getting tired of his inability to retrieve the ties he’d found.
Rogue Acts Page 23
