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We got used to married life slowly, and as weeks went by, our lives melded together and I slowly stopped thinking about the things she’d said to me at the hospital. I picked up dinner on the nights that she was studying, and ate fast food on the nights she was at school, and we took turns cooking on the nights she was free. Those nights were few and far between. It seemed like Sarai had buckled down even harder on her schoolwork.

Sarai still hadn’t heard from her aunt or uncle. They were freezing her out, and as much as I tried to be understanding and give them the benefit of the doubt, the longer it went on, the more pissed I got.

“I’m so glad we can sleep in tomorrow,” I said, dropping next to Sarai on the couch. It was Friday night, and I was beat.

“I know,” Sarai said, leaning against me as I set my feet on the coffee table. “This week was awful.”

“How much homework do you have this weekend?” I asked.

“Not much,” she said with a sigh of relief. “Just planning out the next couple of weeks and finishing up a paper.”

“We should do something fun,” I said.

“Like what?” she asked, tipping her head back to look at me.

“My normal ideas would include booze, tattoos, or skydiving,” I replied, grinning. “But I guess those things are out.”

The smile on her face froze, but she rolled with the conversation starter. “I don’t even like to drink, and I’d kill for a beer,” she joked, rolling her eyes.

“Oh yeah?” Relief filled me as she shrugged good-naturedly.

“And at work, someone was eating a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich, and I almost tackled her for it.”

“Now that, I can help with,” I laughed. “I’ll pick some turkey bacon up at the store.”

“It smells different,” she muttered.

“Are you really going to give up a lifetime of kosher eating for a BLT?” I asked. “I’m not judging.” I lifted my hands in the air. “I mean, if you’re going to do it, go hog wild.”

“Nice pun,” she replied, her lips twitching.

“I’m very punny,” I said, nodding.

“And no, I’m not going to start eating pork products. I can still enjoy the smell, though.”

“I’ll cook bacon every day, just for you.”

“If you eat bacon in front of me, I’ll cut you,” she replied, settling back against me.

“Fine,” I replied, sighing in fake disappointment.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been trying to keep our meals kosher,” she said nonchalantly.

“What gives you that impression?” I asked. She was right; I had been trying to follow the rules I’d found on the internet. I was doing my best, but I knew I was forgetting things. I’d even printed a list of foods she wasn’t supposed to eat and kept it folded up in my wallet.

“The disaster you make in the kitchen,” Sarai said. “So many different bowls and spatulas.”

“Yeah, thank God we have double what normal people have,” I said sheepishly.

“You don’t have to go to all the trouble,” she replied. “I mean, there’s certain things I won’t eat, but I’m not going to freak out if you use the same sink to wash dishes that aren’t supposed to be mixed.”

My eyes widened in horror. “That’s a thing?”

“That’s a thing,” she confirmed, chuckling at the look on my face.

“You’re supposed to use a different sink?” Had my voice just risen an octave? I cleared my throat. “We only have one sink.”

“Alex,” she said, patting my leg. “It’s a nonissue.”

But it wasn’t. Not to me. I was trying to make things easier for her, trying to train myself to follow the guidelines she’d lived by all her life. I still felt completely clueless about Judaism beyond what I’d learned in my extensive internet searches, but I was trying damn hard.

“It’ll get easier,” she said, somehow reading my mind. “You’ll see how I work in the kitchen, and it’ll make more sense.”

“So you do follow the rules,” I said, pointing at her.

“I do it without thinking,” she said, swatting at my finger with a laugh. “It’s just second nature for me.”

“Then it’ll be second nature for me,” I replied stubbornly.

“We’ll see,” she said.

I hummed to myself and decided that I was going to look online at food-preparation etiquette the first chance I had.

“I haven’t really had any cravings beyond that BLT,” she mused. “I wonder if that comes later or something.”

“I’m not sure.” God, I loved that she was finally talking to me about her pregnancy. I wanted to know everything. I was so curious about it all, but I hadn’t wanted to ask her questions when she wasn’t ready to discuss it. “You could ask my sister—she knows all about being pregnant.”

“Kate?” she asked.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “She’s only been pregnant once, but the older kids’ mom was her best friend, so she was the support crew on those pregnancies.”

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