Jonathan didn’t answer right away. Then he said, “Did Rina tell you I was her late husband’s best friend? Yitz and I grew up together.”

“Yitz and Yonasan used to learn together,” Shimon explained. “Every single night until Yitz and Rina moved to Israel. The two of them were amazing. Whenever they learned in the Bais Midrash, people gathered around them just to hear their fertile minds click—”

“A real dog and pony show,” Jonathan said.

“You loved to learn back then, Yonie,” Shimon said. “I remember the fire in your eye whenever you proved a point.”

“That was a glazed look from lack of sleep.”

“You loved it.” Shimmy became grave. “Yitz was a good influence on you. Now he’s gone and you’ve become an apikoros. We lost both of you in one year.”

Jonathan looked pained. “Not quite the same thing.”

Shimon put his arm around his brother and said, “You’re right. It’s not the same thing at all. I’m just saying you lost your love for learning when Yitz—”

“I pay an analyst for this, Shim,” Jonathan said.

“Ach,” Shimon said. “Analyst, shmanalyst. I have faith. I haven’t given up on you.”

Jonathan started to say something but changed his mind. They walked the next few steps without talking. Turning to Decker, Jonathan said, “I used to razz Yitz the same way I’m razzing you.” He rolled his tongue inside his cheeks. “He was a good guy.”

There was another moment of silence. Jonathan managed to put on a cheerful smile, then punched Decker lightly on the shoulder. “As far as Rina goes, I tried. God knows I tried…and tried…and tried and tried.”

Decker let out a small laugh.

Jonathan shrugged and said, “The better man won out—both times.”

Decker didn’t know if that was true. But he certainly wasn’t going to argue the point.

The house that Rabbi Levine built was nearly identical to the Lazarus abode. Crystal, Decker decided, must be symbolic of something. Frieda Levine, like Rina’s ex-mother-in-law, Sora Lazarus, seemed to be inordinately fond of the glistening glass. The dining area was lit with a mammoth-sized chandelier—a four-tiered job with scores of icy stalactites dangling from the frame. It completely overpowered the room.

And as had been the case at Sora Lazarus’s, the adjoining living room–dining room had taken on the appearance of a mess hall. One long rectangular table and four folding card tables crammed every available inch of floor space. There were enough chairs to fill an auditorium.

Rina took Decker’s hand and explained that Frieda had invited a few families—ones that hadn’t lived in the community for so long.

“Nice that the woman is hospitable,” Decker said.

“Peter…”

“Okay, okay.”

“How was your walk over here?” Rina asked.

“You know, you might have walked with me,” Decker said. “Especially after all that happened.”