“For Talmud study,” Ellenberg told him. “My wife said you might be looking for one, and I’d like to study with someone at my own home. On Monday and Wednesday afternoons?”
A month ago, or even yesterday, he’d have said no, that such would never work, but why couldn’t it, if he made an effort and used the skills he’d once only deployed upon the ton? He stared at Ellenberg for a moment, at the proverbial olive branch he was extending.
“I’d like that very much,” Roger told him, suddenly realizing that, wonder of wonders, it was the truth.
“Excellent,” Ellenberg returned. “I’ll see you next week, then, if not earlier, as there’s a group that meets Thursdays at the Great Synagogue after morning minyan that’s useful as well. We always enjoy additional perspectives.”
“Good day, Roger,” David called as he and Ellenberg exited.
“Good day,” he called after them, resolved to find the courage to truly get what the real him, or at least the him that he had become, wanted.
Moments after David and Ellenberg exited, Roger bounded up the staircase and knocked on the guest chamber door.
“We need to speak,” he told a rather startled Rebecca as he entered the room.
She stepped back, folding her arms across her chest. “I think we’ve said all we need to say. I’m happy for you and the life upon which you shall be embarking with Miss Teres,” she told him, her tone clipped.
“I’m not going to marry her.” He took a step toward her.
At that she blinked. “Pardon?”
“You were right,” he told her.
“Me?” Her eyes were huge behind her spectacles.
“She’s too young for me,” he joked then took a deep breath. “And we aren’t suited. Not to mention, I don’t love her.” He took another step forward.
“You’ve barely met her,” Rebecca reminded him as she moved back again. “Most relationships don’t start with love, merely compatibility. You and Miss Teres are certainly compatible.”
“Perhaps. Once.” But not any longer.
“She fits into the life you want perfectly,” Rebecca argued. “She’s practically made for you and your goals.”
“Goals can be changed. Or modified,” he countered. “Especially when the circumstances demand it.” He took a deep breath. “When people change, or discover who they actually are.”
“I don’t—what about your seat?”
“The seat can hang,” he told her, raising a finger. “I’m not even sure I would be what the community needs in the first place or that I even understand what we need. But I do believe I understand what my children need in a governess, so I think that’s the position I’ll stay in. At least for now.”
Her eyes grew wide. “But—”
“You aren’t going to congratulate me on my new employment?” he teased.
“Mazel tov,” she said. “However, I still don’t understand why that means you can’t marry Miss Teres.”
Roger smiled to himself. He’d have preferred her to guess, but at least her question placed the subject firmly in front of them. He just needed to summon the courage fully and push them down the path. He took a deep breath.
“Because it’s not the only job to which I’d like to apply,” he explained. “Do you know what other position I think I’m best suited for?”
“What?” she asked, squinting rather adorably through her spectacles.
“Your husband.” He took a step toward her once more. “Please consider it,” he added, his heart now in his throat.
She gasped. “Are you out of your mind?” she snapped, glaring at him as if he was incorrect in his assessment.
“No. I don’t think I am.” He inhaled once more, holding out his hand. “Rebecca, these weeks with you have—”
“Included excellent sexual intercourse, yes,” she told him. “While I know that can produce heightened emotions, thus making one believe in a greater intimacy—”
