“Janet, you don’t have to knock every time!” she called out.
The door opened. It was Mr. Lowenstein. Hana started to stand up.
“Stay seated,” Mr. Lowenstein said, motioning with his hand. “It slipped my mind earlier, but I wanted to find out what Jakob Brodsky is up to. Gladys told me that Daud met with him in one of our conference rooms.”
“I hope that was okay,” Hana said. “I was supposed to be there but didn’t make it because of an unscheduled lunch with Mr. Collins and the CEO of the Maricoma Group.”
“It’s not a problem,” Mr. Lowenstein said. “Tell me about Brodsky.”
“He’s investigating a new case,” Hana answered. “Jakob wanted to explain the situation to Daud and ask for his help.”
“Did he ask you to assist him?”
“Just to offer advice.”
“Which is what lawyers do,” Mr. Lowenstein shot back. “Your employment agreement with the firm requires you to devote one hundred percent of your legal efforts to what we do here. We’ve invested a lot in your professional development.”
Hana’s mouth went dry. “And I appreciate all you’ve done for me.”
“You can talk with Jakob on your own time, but not while you’re here at the firm.”
“Yes, sir.”
The senior partner left. Hana stared unseeing at her computer screen for several seconds. It was fine for Mr. Lowenstein to ask her to work on a non–law firm project like the interfaith forum that wouldn’t generate any billable hours, but that didn’t mean she had any leeway of her own.
* * *
Daud decided his first step in helping Jakob would be to reach out to Avi Labensky, a Jerusalem art dealer. The son of Holocaust survivors from Latvia, Avi was a person with many diverse connections. It took several minutes for Daud to locate the former client’s information. Pulling up his investigative report, he remembered the sadness on Avi’s face when Daud presented overwhelming proof that the art dealer’s son had been stealing thousands of shekels from his father for almost ten years. Avi didn’t report his son to the police but terminated Yoni’s employment with the family business.
Daud hadn’t eaten lunch and fixed a sandwich of salami and spicy Italian ham on ciabatta bread topped with provolone cheese, hot pickled peppers, and a sauce made with lime juice, garlic, and oregano that Hana kept in the refrigerator. He settled down in front of his computer, took a big bite, and noticed that he had several new emails. One was from Avi offering to Skype with him.
“Shalom,” Avi said in Hebrew when the face of the sixty-year-old Jewish man with a bushy gray beard and black-rimmed glasses came into view. “Is this my friend Daud calling from America?”
“It’s me,” Daud answered in the same language. “And I’m honored that you call me a friend.”
“One who brings repentance to a house is the kind of friend all men need.”
“What do you mean?” Daud asked.
“I should have called you two years ago,” Avi began and rubbed his chin. “Yoni has been restored to my heart. After I told him he no longer had a place in the business, he moved to Tel Aviv and didn’t speak to me for months. Then I received a check in the mail from him making payment for some of the money he stole. It wasn’t much, but it was the first of many checks since then. So far he’s paid back almost half of what he owes and regularly visits in our household, which makes his mother happy. Yoni is a different man. The burden of his sin weighed him down. He doesn’t know it, but once he pays half the debt, I’m going to forgive the rest. If you hadn’t uncovered what he was doing, none of this would have happened. That’s why I call you a friend of our house.”
Yoni had been surly during the investigation, an attitude that made sense once Daud discovered what was going on.
“That’s good news,” Daud replied. “What is he doing in Tel Aviv?”
Avi shrugged. “Something to do with the internet that I don’t understand. But I asked the son of a friend to check out the company to see if it was legitimate, and he reassured me it is on the level. Yoni has always been a quick learner. He’s even met a girl from Netanya whom we like. They served in the same army unit.”
Daud couldn’t remember Yoni’s job in the IDF, but it wasn’t unusual for men and women to have similar roles.
“Tell me about you,” Avi continued. “I asked a question about America and didn’t give you a chance to answer.”
“I’m married,” Daud said and gave the art dealer a short history.
“I hope living in the US isn’t a permanent move,” Avi said. “We need people like you to prove the politicians wrong about Jews and Arabs not being able to dwell together in peace. I’d like to send you and your bride a wedding gift.”
“Talking to you and hearing about Yoni is gift enough,” Daud said with a smile. “But I would appreciate your advice. It has to do with antiquities, not art.”
Without revealing any names, Daud briefly told Avi the story of Jakob’s client and the stolen ceramic female head. Preferring to hear from Avi first, he didn’t go into Jakob’s plan of action to find and recover the stolen items.
“Stealing by the Russians was just as illegal as by the Germans,” Daud said.
“True, and I know about the recent find in Metula,” Avi replied. “It was in all the papers. An eighth-century BCE ceramic piece with the kind of detail and craftsmanship worthy of a king will earn it a prime spot in the Israel Museum. But it’s highly unlikely the great-grandfather of the man from Belarus owned its twin.”
“I realize that,” Daud replied. “But Hana’s colleague wants to investigate it, and I’ve agreed to help him. My first act was to contact you.”
Avi scratched the left side of his neck. “I know many of the old-timers in the antiquities trade, both Jew and Arab. The government has tightened down a lot since the days when almost anything was available for cash at the right price. Most of my contacts have retired or moved on to something else, but there are a few I can reach out to. Someone might have information about the kind of piece you’re talking about. What should I tell them? I wouldn’t mention the Metula find because that would either scare them off or cause the price to go up too much.”
“Mention there’s a discreet collector who is interested in that type of item.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best approach,” Avi said, leaning in closer to the camera on his computer. “I think I should make the inquiry for myself, not as a middleman. That will allay suspicions.”
“You would do that?” Daud asked in surprise.
Avi rubbed his hands together in front of him. “Yes, it would be a better way.”
“Then I’d better tell you what Hana’s colleague is about to do in an effort to track down the items and how I fit into his plans.”
Daud told Avi about the Russian internet sites and the plan to expand the same thing into Israel.
“That may produce results in Russia, but not here,” Avi said when Daud finished. “I’d rather give old-fashioned word of mouth a try. I can toss a small pebble into the pond and see where the ripples lead without creating too much disturbance. Can you send me more details?”
“Yes, and I’ll include an inventory of other items owned by the great-grandfather. There might be a chance some of them are still together or the discovery of one could lead to information about the others.”
“Okay,” Avi said. “I’ll give this some more thought and let you know what I think after reviewing the inventory.”
“Thanks.” Daud paused. “And please keep my name confidential. I need to stay in the background.”
“Understood.” Avi yawned. “I’m ready for a final glass of wine and bed.”
“Good night,” Daud said.
“Blessings on you and your wife,” Avi replied. “May you have as many children as Jacob.”
Daud smiled. He and Hana wanted children eventually, but producing patriarchs for twelve tribes was a bigger job than they could take on.
Chapter 16
Hana had trouble shaking off the negative feeling from her conversation with Mr. Lowenstein. She tried to put it out of her mind during the drive home. As she pulled into the short driveway for the house, her phone vibrated. It was Ben’s number. Saying a quick prayer, she parked the car but didn’t get out.
“Hello,” she said, trying not to sound too cheerful or too serious.
“It’s Ben. Is now a good time to talk?”
“Yes. I wanted to call you the other night and apologize, but—”
“No apology necessary,” Ben cut in. “But I’m glad you waited because some other things have happened.”
Leon scratched the passenger door panel with his left paw. Hana leaned over and opened the door. Leon ran to the house and yelped. Daud opened the door and peered out curiously at Hana, who pointed to her cell phone.
“Hold on,” Ben said. “Sadie is supposed to be reading in her room, but I hear her in the hallway and need to see what’s going on.”
Hana could hear muffled talking.
“Sadie was hungry and made a run to the refrigerator,” Ben said when he returned. “We made a strawberry gelato last night. I’ve never been much of a cook, but if this keeps up, she’s going to end up opening a restaurant and hiring me as her assistant.”
“You’re a good dad,” Hana replied.
“Who wants to be the best father I can be,” Ben answered. “I’ve decided to cool things down with Laura for a while and told Sadie when she came home from school this afternoon. You would have been proud of the way she responded. She listened without interrupting, and when I finished she gave me a long hug followed by a kiss on the cheek. It may work out with Laura, but I want to be sure the relationship has what it takes to last.”
Hana felt a weight lift from her shoulders. “Is there anything you want me to do? I want to help, but I’m not sure how.”
“Let’s wait on that.”
“Whatever you say,” Hana quickly replied.
She wanted to ask Ben if she could speak to Sadie for a few seconds and tell her good night, but Daud’s counsel from the previous day held her back.
“And thanks so much for getting in touch with me,” she concluded.
The call ended. She slipped her phone into her purse.
A subdued Leon was standing over his metal feeding bowl while Daud poured the food.
“That was Ben Neumann,” Hana said. “We had a good talk, and I think things are okay between us. I can’t say the same thing about Mr. Lowenstein.”
Hana told Daud what the senior partner had said to her about working with Jakob Brodsky.
“I wouldn’t make too big a deal out of it,” he said when she finished. “He’s just being a boss.”
“Yeah, but it still stung.”
Hana saw a large bowl of salad fixings on the kitchen counter. Daud followed her gaze.
“I fixed salad for supper,” he said.
“Did you eat a sandwich when you came home from the office?” Hana asked.
“What makes you say that?”
“Because you don’t eat like a rabbit unless you’ve gorged like a lion.”
Daud gave a soft roar.
“I was going to fix something with protein,” Hana continued. “But if you’re not hungry—”
“No, that sounds great.”
While they ate, Daud told her about his Skype session with Avi Labensky.
“I think he’s right about how to begin the investigation in Israel,” he said. “It should be focused, not general. And there’s nothing for you to do at this point that will upset Mr. Lowenstein. I can talk to Jakob directly.”
Chapter 17
Over the next month and a half, Daud spent a lot of time working on two new consulting projects, including the one that would require a short trip to Lebanon. The day he’d closed the deal, he scheduled a flight leaving two weeks later.
The day he was scheduled to depart for Beirut, Daud jerked awake when Hana suddenly jumped out of bed and rushed into the bathroom. It was several minutes before she returned. By then the sun was up, and light beams illuminated the bedroom. Daud could tell from the expression on Hana’s face that she didn’t feel well.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Upset stomach,” she replied. “I added too much baharat to the chicken and rice last night.”
For supper Hana had transformed what would in most cultures be a bland dish into a fiery concoction by throwing in a blend of Arabic spices known as baharat, a seasoning loaded with Aleppo peppers and two other types of chiles.
“I loved it,” Daud said.
“Me too, at the time, but not this morning.”
Hana stayed in bed while Daud took a shower.
“Should you stay home from work today?” he asked when he came out of the bathroom. “I can take care of you until I leave for the airport at ten thirty.”
“No, I don’t have a fever, and there’s an important meeting on my schedule.”
“That someone else could handle.”
“Not really. Mr. Collins wants me to translate as well as offer legal advice. Janet’s Hebrew and Arabic need a lot of work.”
Hana’s attempt at humor eased Daud’s concern.
“Do you want me to fix you a cup of coffee?” he offered.
“No, I’ll drink tea instead.”
Daud heated a cup of water in the microwave. He dropped in a tea bag to steep and took Leon out for a walk around the yard. When he returned, Hana was still in bed with her eyes closed.
“Now I’m worried all over again,” he said.
“Don’t be. Is the tea ready?”
“Yes. Do you want me to bring it to you?”
“No, thanks,” Hana answered, propping herself against the headboard. “And I haven’t been in the bed this whole time. I went to the bathroom again.”
“Did you get sick?”
“My stomach is upset, but not because of the baharat.”
“What is it then?”
“Come, sit beside me.” Hana scooted over slightly and patted the sheet.
Daud joined her. Hana reached out for his left hand and held it. “Come home safely from Lebanon.”
“I will,” he replied, puzzled. “It’s a quick trip into a good part of Beirut where problems are rare. That’s why I’m recommending the area to the client. What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing is wrong,” Hana said as a small smile creased her lips. “You’re going to be a father. I had my suspicions, and while you were fixing the tea, I took a home pregnancy test that I bought a couple of days ago. The results are in the bathroom.”
Daud’s jaw dropped open. “I’m going to be a babai,” he said, using the Egyptian term for daddy. “Are you sure? I mean, I hope you’re right—”
“I’ll go to the doctor, of course, but you can see the results for yourself. Two lines equals positive; one line is negative.”
Daud went into the small bathroom and saw a plastic object that looked like a chubby thermometer on the counter beside the sink. In the middle of an oval window were two very distinct lines. He returned to find Hana with her arms crossed and a satisfied expression on her face.
“I hope you’re as thrilled as I am,” she said.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Daud repeated before reaching the level of excitement he wanted to communicate.
Hana beamed. “Good. I know that’s true, but I’m sure I’ll need more reassurance as we go along.”
Daud couldn’t keep his eyes off Hana while she sat at the table sipping tea and eating a piece of dry toast. When she caught his eye, the sparkle he saw melted his heart. The thought that he was going to be a father drove everything else from his mind.
Hana finished her tea and went into the bedroom to get ready for work. Daud quickly researched fetal development and downloaded an app that would give him daily updates on the baby’s progress. At six weeks, the unborn child was about the size of a sweet pea. There was a bag of frozen peas in the re
frigerator. He opened it and placed a few samples in the palm of his hand. They varied in size, and he wondered which one most closely resembled the new life in Hana.
“What are you doing?” Hana asked when she returned from the bedroom.
“Looking at our baby,” he answered.
Daud showed her the app on his phone. Hana picked up a single pea and kissed it.
“What am I supposed to do with the pea now?” Daud asked when she returned it to his hand. “It wouldn’t seem right to put it in the bag and return it to the freezer.”
Hana held out her hand. “I’ll take it to work and put it on my desk and see if anyone notices.”
Pregnancy was bringing out a quirky side of Hana that Daud hadn’t seen before.
“How are you feeling now?” he asked.
“Better. The tea and toast helped. That may be my favorite breakfast for a while.”
Daud held out his arms and held her close. He kissed the top of her head.
“Will you pray for me, us, our new family?” Hana asked in a quiet voice.
Daud closed his eyes and spoke of thanksgiving and protection. He ended with words of welcome to their child.
“Promise me again you’ll be safe,” Hana said, patting him on the chest. “You’re traveling a long way for two days on the ground.”
“Two days too many,” Daud replied. “But I’ll be extra careful. Will you see the doctor while I’m gone?”
“I’ll try to make an appointment, but it will probably take a while to get in to see her.”
Daud put away the clean dishes while Hana remained at the table sipping a second cup of tea.
“You may receive a packet of information from Avi Labensky while I’m gone,” he said. “I asked him to send it to your attention at the law firm.”
“Why not here?”
“I didn’t want to give him our home address. Avi is discreet, but I don’t know who has access to his computer.” Daud paused. “He said something about us having children when we talked several weeks ago. He prayed I’d be as fruitful as the patriarch Jacob.”
“One sweet pea at a time,” Hana said, laughing. “Should I open the package from Avi?”
Promised Land Page 14
