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A horn blasted, and the passengers cheered. Warmly-lit windows welcomed them from every level; the celebration had clearly started a while ago. Music seemed to crystalize in the winter air.
Beck took her hand to help her over the last step, but didn’t let it go right away. “Thank you…for making this happen, Nora.”
It was the first time he’d called her that; she decided she liked it even better. He drew out her name like it was something to be savored; something precious.
First kiss on land, second by sea…
Was it wrong that she was already thinking of all the places on board they could steal away to and snog?
“Actually,I’mthe bad-ass mofo who made this happen…” A holler floated down from above. “But if taking credit helps Noraleh score, I’m all for it.”
Jay Katz leaned over the upper deck rail, wearing a captain’s hat and a smart-ass grin. The same grin that had calmed Nora’s nerves at JFK when, at nineteen, she was about to board her first-ever international flight and leave everything and everyone she knew behind for a year in Israel.
“Avast! Stay right there, I’m coming down.”
Leave it to Jay – the three-hundred-sixty-four other days of the year, he was just one of New York’s notable live event promoters. But on Baller day, he let his pirate freak flag fly, lingo and all.
Nora turned to Beck. “I should’ve warned you. Half my Year-Course crew are probably on this boat. Did you do a gap year?”
“No, but I did Birthright a while back with my cousin Drew. Who’s here tonight, too, by the way. That was only a ten-day trip. A year must’ve been incredible.”
“It was something, all right.” Nora laughed. What were the odds of walking the earth at the exact same time as the motley group she considered her found family; let alone all of them landing on the same kibbutz in the Negev desert?
Ugh, getting sappy was not Nora’s MO for the night. The guys would make fun of her like days of old – Avi playing an overwrought version ofDust in The Windon his battered acoustic guitar; Jonah pouring her another Arak over ice to shut her up. Jay farting in her general direction to lighten the mood. Eli philosophizing with some ‘Grains of Sand’ metaphor.
God, she didn’t want to think about Eli Gold, tonight of all nights.
The girls would all get it, though. Talia especially. The term “ride or die” was particularly apt when the ride in question was a pack of spitting, suicidal camels.
An oversize hat came down firmly on her head, its brim falling over her eyes. “A minute later, kid. You’re lucky it’s the season of miracles.”
“I owe you one, Jay.” Nora righted the captain’s hat in time to see Jay stick out a hand to Beck.
“Hey, man. Bar mitzvah theme?”
“Not this again.” Nora groaned. “Beck, this is Jay Katz, the mastermind behind the Matzo Baller. And you don’t have to answer that. ”
Beck, to his credit, didn’t miss a beat. “Baseball.”
Jay broke into an easy grin. “You can tell a lot about a person by their party theme. Take Noraleh here.”
“No, Gatsby. We’re not doing this.”
Didn’t this guy have a party to run? A boat to sail?
A short pier to take a long walk off?
“Sock monkey theme.”
“It was not!” Nora insisted. “It was a Paul Frank theme. Who doesn’t love Julius the Monkey?”
While she pleaded her case, Beck wasn’t lobbing his glances between them like a spectator at a tennis match; no, he was studying her intently. She could only imagine what was going through his head at that moment.
Like a dog with a chew-toy, Jay refused to let it go. “YousayJulius, because it’s the more socially acceptable lifestyle choice. But we all knowJockowas your first love.”
“Yes, sue me. I had a sock monkey growing up.”
“Beck. She brought the thing to Israel. Jocko went everywhere we did. The Western Wall, to Egypt,intothe Dead Sea…he stunk to high heaven after that.”
