“I’m not going to ponder that statement,” Sol said. “But if she’s undertaking such tasks, I assume her health is improving.”
“Very much.” Roger pressed his lips together. “She’s quite hale, and her arm seems almost completely healed.”
His eyes growing wide, Sol gasped. “My god.”
“What?” Roger asked, squinting at him in puzzlement.
His friend slapped a palm on the desk. “You’re shtupping her.”
“What?” Roger cried, his voice rising. “You’re mad.” But his voice sounded unconvincing even to his own ears.
“Perhaps,” Sol said with another smile. “But you’re still shtupping her.” He shook his head. “I knew something had happened when I saw you—you’re different—an improvement.”
Roger folded his arms over his chest and glared at his friend.
“I’m just stating facts,” Sol said with a shrug. “You had the release you obviously desperately needed, and had it with Miss Adler.” He stared at Roger. “Even if you deny it, I’m not going to believe you. There’s too much evidence to the contrary, and I’m quite perceptive, so you might as well admit the same.”
“Perceptive” was a touch of a stretch, as there had been nearly half a dozen attempts on Sol’s life prior to him accepting that they might not all be unfortunate coincidences, but he was not going to belabor the point.
Especially as, while he was not a man who gave confidences, but held them instead, for the first time since as long as he couldremember, the idea of confessing to someone who might understand seemed… appealing. Even if that person was the most unreasonably optimistic person on earth. A rare feat—especially for a Jew.
“Do you need to say it like that?” he asked, lowering his voice. The children were supposed to be asleep, but they had a habit of not being where they were supposed to be, especially when there was information to be overheard.
“How should I say it?” Sol’s lip tipped in amusement.
“Not at all,” he told his friend. “This isn’t a topic that is discussed.”
“Why not?” Sol sounded genuinely confused. “We’re friends, are we not?” he asked with a ridiculous amount of earnest naivete that if Roger didn’t know better, he’d believe was put-on. At least, though, the younger man was willing to learn.
As much as he could.
Roger touched his fingers to his temples. “We are,” he said, despite “friend” being perhaps an overstatement of their relationship. He cleared his throat. “But—”
“Friends discuss important matters with each other, especially concerning their health,” the other man finished, looking ridiculously proud of himself.
“This has nothing to do with my health.” Roger sniffed.
“I disagree,” Sol countered, raising a single finger. “Physical release is necessary to maintain one’s body, mind, and nefesh,” his friend said, only mangling the last few words.
Biting the inside of his cheek so as not to laugh out loud, Roger leaned forward over his desk, tenting his fingers. “Where did you read that?”
“The Talmud,” Sol responded rather primly.
Roger barked a laugh. “That’s not in the Talmud.” At least he couldn’t imagine it was. He glanced at the volume once more, shaking his head.
“Have you read all of it?” His friend gave him a curious stare.
“No, I’ve read none of it,” he admitted, stroking the binding. “Though I would bet my family’s fortune that you made that up out of your arse.” He started as an idea, or rather an impulse, came into his head. “I have committed myself to a study program in which I read during the week myself and then discuss my findings with my brother during Saturday luncheon, as David lacks the time for daily study. Would you care to join me?” He picked up the volume and showed it to his friend.
“A commendable endeavor.” Sol mused after a pause. “I’d love to join you and your brother on Shabbos as my schedule is quite similar to David’s.”
That should have occurred to Roger in the first place. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Sol was not finished.
“Though I will defer to you, as my knowledge, not to mention my facility with the language, is still quite lacking, despite my recent efforts,” his friend continued. He paused, his expression thoughtful. “However…”
“What?” Roger asked, squinting a little.
“I do know someone who might be a skilled study partner, even helpful regarding his own knowledge.” Excitement bubbled on his face. “And happens to have a great deal of time to devote to the same now that he is no longer employed as custodian,” he added, his tone knowing.
