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“Not sure. It’s sometimes omitted from performances. The singing teacher said I had the best voice she’d heard in a decade.”
Gal’s eyes glowed, sparkling with happiness. Very different to the moping, depressed girl of the days after the recital. Perhaps it was a one-time glitch, like Eitan suggested. But at any rate, it would be good to air it and talk about it with someone who wasn’t her immediate family.
“That’s great, Gali! Listen, how about you check out this therapist. Look, she has an Instagram page and everything.”
Gal pouted a little but peeked at his phone. A good enough sign. He sent her the contact number he got from Dafna. He’d give it a day or two and tackle the subject again, this time with the clear aim of making an appointment.
“I surfed this morning again. Uncle Eitan says hi.” He cut vegetables, using the dining table as his work surface.
“Abba, I’m so happy that you’re back surfing! You should have woken me up.”
He added water and lemon juice to two spoons of tahini and whisked briskly. Gal smeared the tahini on two slices of sour bread, arranged freshly cut tomatoes, and sprinkled salt, handing him a slice. She took a huge bite, and he followed suit.
“But you never want to get up that early.”
“I will, I will! You promised to teach me paddleboarding. Take me this Friday, there’s no workshop.”
She’d expressed interest many times, but whenever the early hours were mentioned, she’d back down. Dafna would be there, and even though odds were that Gal wouldn’t wake up, he would be honest with his daughter.
“Gal, if you want to learn, I’ll take you this Friday. We leave at six am. You should know that I’ll be teaching another woman to paddleboard.”
“Another woman? Is she a friend?” Gal stopped with the bread halfway to her mouth, making the tahini leak onto the table. He grabbed the table cleaning rag and wiped it.
“She is someone important to me.”
As he said it out loud, he acknowledged it to be true. Despite their short acquaintance, he’d slept with Dafna less than a month ago, she was important to him. He fervently hoped Dafna would confide in him about what triggered her at The Thinking Nook. They couldn’t go forward before that. And at this thought he realized he very much wanted to go forward.
“Oh.” She drew tahini doodles on her plate. The silence lengthened, with no Schubert to relieve it. Gal’s brows were furrowed together and she was biting her lips.
“She is older than me, has two grown boys and won’t have any more children. Ever.”
The transformation was so complete it was ridiculous. The dimple announced itself, and his daughter practically bobbed on her chair.
“No way! Older? How old is she?”
He was a little uncomfortable, but still committed.
“She is forty-five,” he said and waited for her reaction with trepidation.
“Cool, she’s a cougar.” She giggled, and he let it slide.
He dropped her at the opera and continued to G&L, feeling cool and cougared.
***
The day had become hazy, as summer days tended to become in Tel Aviv. Outside Yogev’s office, Dorit sported a large magenta bow atop newly blue hair. It was more striking against the listless sepia of the urban view at her back.
“Erez, you look extremely well today.”
“Thank you. I went to the beach. It always makes me glow. Your bow is unique.”
“My granddaughter made it for me, and I promised her I’d wear it to work.”
“Is it Anna who made it?” Dorit nodded. “She is the one who likes arts and crafts, right?”
She smiled, clearly pleased that he remembered.
“How goes the due diligence?” she asked.
