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I was shifting my purse strap from one shoulder to the other when Benjamin spoke.
“It could be the beginning of thehamotziblessing.”
Benjamin’s words snapped me back.
“Thehamotziblessing?”
“Hamotzi Lechem Min Ha’aretz.” The man’s Hebrew sounded flawless. But what did I know?
“How does that translate?” I asked.
“Who brings forth bread from the earth. But like I said, you don’t have much, and I’m no expert.”
“I understand. Just a couple more questions?” Smiling my most beguiling smile.
Benjamin thrust the page at me but didn’t leave.
Taking it, I asked, “When is this prayer said?”
“It’s the third of the three traditional blessings recited by women on Friday night. Before the bread is cut.”
“On what might the phrase be inscribed?” I asked.
Benjamin raised both palms and brows. “Where mightGod Bless Yoube inscribed? Take your pick.”
“Might it be found on ashochet’s cleaver?”
“Unlikely. The blessing has to do with bread.”
He reached out to grasp the screen door handle. Paused, as though struck by a possibility.
“I suppose it could be found on a challah knife.”
“A challah knife?”
“They’re used to cut the challah bread on Friday nights.”
“Who might own a challah knife?” I asked.
“Any Jew on the planet.”
“Where are they sold?” Excited. Thinking a Judaic specialty shop could be a good lead.
Benjamin snorted. An unpleasantly wet sound.
“Amazon. Target. The mom-and-pop kitchen store at the mall.”
As we both fell silent, my eyes drifted to the shiny red and black motorcycle parked on the drive. Benjamin noticed.
“You into bikes?” he asked.
“I know that’s a Kawasaki Ninja 250.”
“I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be. I’m aware only because my sister owned one in college.”
A brief hesitation, then, eyes on his sandals, Benjamin asked, “Want to go for a spin?”
