Only sort of, but Judah did the handshake-nod thing as if he did. Aaron had been a couple of years ahead of them in school, and now, apparently, he had daughters old enough to listen to Judah’s music. It was nothing new—plenty of guys his age got married right out of college (if not while still in it) and started having kids with their wives immediately afterward—but for some reason, this hit Judah acutely.
“My Keren is begging for us to hire you for her bat mitzvah,” Aaron said with a grin, as if to rub salt in the wound. “So, you know, if you could keep February wide open three years from now, that’d be great.”
“You got it, man.” Judah bit back the urge to point out that he’d be lucky if Aaron’s daughters still knew who Judah was in three years.
“This is PJ,” Benny added, pointing to another guy behind him with a long beard that looked more like a fashion choice than a religious one, “and Ethan. Ethan was actually in Bnei Zimrah.”
“Oh yeah?” Judah’s eyebrows rose at the mention of the boys’ choir that was big around the same time Kol Sasson was. They weren’t quite on the same level, but they’d most likely crossed paths a few times. “You still sing at all?”
“Nah, puberty was not kind to me in that department,” Ethan said, and they all laughed, though Judah knew more than a couple of guys who could say the same and didn’t feel nearly as lighthearted about it. “I think you’ve performed with a few of the guys I was with though—Jeremy Hirsch is still doing weddings and bar mitzvahs, from what I hear.”
“He is, yeah. Good guy.” Judah noticed the woman was just standing there, not looking as if she was actuallywithany of them. He dropped a glance down to her hands, and the only ring present was one of those hammered silver ones girls often got during their year in seminary. “Hi,” he said, since no one else seemed to be making introductions. “I’m Judah.”
“I know,” she said, blushing. “I’m Mira. The sister.”
He didn’t see much of a resemblance. She was definitely younger, probably in her mid-twenties, with pale skin and straight dark hair that just brushed her shoulders. “How many Winklers are here, exactly?”
“My wife and boys are upstairs,” said Benny. “We’ve got three boys and one on the way that better be a girl or she’s gonna make me try again.” The other guys laughed. “And Aaron’s got three kids running around here somewhere.”
“But Mira here’s still single, if you happen to know a guy,” Aaron said meaningfully.
“Please, please shut up,” she muttered, and Judah couldn’t help a tiny grin.
“Don’t you have a younger brother?” Benny asked him. “He’s not here, is he?”
“He’s not,” Judah said, relieved he didn’t have to make up areason why Akiva and Mira were decidedly not a fit. “It’s just me,” he added, cutting off the inevitable next question.
Was it his imagination, or did Mira’s eyes flicker up at him in interest? He wasn’t immune to the frequency with which he got checked out, but he’d always regarded it with only mild disinterest or, well, total disinterest. And it wasn’t so much that he was interested now as that he couldn’t stop hearing Arielle’s voice in his head.
Let yourself have a good time, Judah. It’s only as lonely as you let it be.
… especially if we find other people to keep us busy in that time…
Desperate to change the subject, he turned to the other guys, PJ and Ethan, and asked the first small-talk question that came to his mind. “So, where are you guys from?”
“Boston originally,” said PJ, “and now I’m in Williamsburg.”
“West Hempstead born, raised, and returned,” Ethan said with a grin. “I live two blocks from my parents. Highly recommended for babysitting when the time comes.”
“I was just talking to someone who grew up in West Hempstead,” Judah said, racking his brain before realizing, to his horror, that it was Arielle. He tried to think of someone else’s name he could use, but he wasn’t a good enough liar to make one up on the spot. “Do you know Arielle Becker?”
Ethan’s smile widened while Benny let out a guffaw that sent Judah’s hands curling into tight fists. “Uh, yeah, I know Arielle Becker. She was a, uh, friendly girl in high school.”
“Very friendly, from what I’ve heard,” Benny added, and wow, did Judah hate him. So much.
“Is that Dana Becker’s sister?” Aaron asked. “I went to Camp Moriah with her for a few years.” Judah hadn’t gone to sleepaway camp like most other guys his age had, but he recognized the nameas one of the bigger ones. “Had the biggest crush on her. Last I heard, she was totally off the derekh.”
“I don’t think her sister was everonthe derekh,” Ethan said with a snort.
Judah’s gut roiled as the words to defend the Beckers danced on the tip of his tongue, but before he could say a word, Mira spoke up. “I was with the youngest sister, Hannah, at Moriah,” she said softly. “She’s really nice.”
Inexplicably, Judah felt a pull of gratitude toward Mira for her kind words. “I don’t really know any of them well,” he said—a 95 percent truth. “I sang at their cousins’ wedding somewhat recently, and Arielle’s a friend of my brother’s.”
“I’ll bet she is,” Ethan said with another punchable smile.
Thankfully, this time, Benny didn’t bite. “We were just about to check out the pool with the waterslides. You want to join? Or do you have important Official Entertainer Business?”
“I do have important Official Entertainer Business,” Judah lied, “but I’ll see you at mincha?”
