“You didn’t see him or talk to him today?”

Jonathan noticed a hint of concern in his brother’s voice. “No, I didn’t.”

Ezra looked down the sidewalks again. Lots of people walking home from synagogue. But nowhere was his son.

“Want me to look for him, Ez?” Jonathan said. To Decker he said, “Noam wanders off all the time. Maybe now’s a good time to reestablish some contact.”

Ezra took off his hat, adjusted the black yarmulke underneath, then returned the hat to his head. He rocked on his feet for a moment, then said, “Do you mind, Yonie?”

“No problem,” Jonathan said.

“I’ll come with you,” Decker blurted.

Rina gave Decker a look of surprise. “Anything to get out of lunch.”

Decker tossed her a smile laced with emotion. Immediately, Rina felt his sadness. What that smile had told her.

Jonathan.

His brother.

Talk about establishing contact.

Decker caught himself. “I’m not trying to get out of anything. I just thought Jonathan might want to avail himself of my trained eye.”

Everyone burst into laughter that held more relief than mirth.

8

It was taking too long, everyone making desperate excuses for the delay.

“They got lost,” Breina said. “Go look for them, Ezra.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Ezra countered. “Yonie grew up here.”

“Yonie’s been away,” Breina fired back.

Shimon said, “Yonie didn’t get lost, Breina. Calm down. They’ll be back soon. Yonie probably started talking to someone and forgot there are forty people waiting for him to come back. You know how he is.”

“He’s the absentminded professor, Breina,” Miriam said. “Don’t worry.”

“He’s impossible when it comes to time,” Faygie added.

“Always late,” Rina’s sister-in-law, Esther, chimed in.

Rina didn’t buy it. Even if Jonathan was irresponsible, Peter certainly wasn’t. But she didn’t say anything.

Everyone was quiet for a minute. Ezra broke the silence.

“I thought you were watching him,” he scolded his wife.

“I had the girls,” Breina said. “The boys are your responsibility.”

“Noam’s a year past bar mitzvah,” Ezra said. “I should watch him like an infant?”

“I’m not saying you should watch him like an infant,” Breina said. “But you can keep your eyes open. You know how Noam is. Lost in his own world. Just like Yonasan—”

“So if you know how he is,” Ezra interrupted, “you can’t keep your eyes open?”

Breina repeated, “He’s just like Yonasan—”

Frieda Levine broke in. “Stop bickering, both of you. You’re making all of us nervous.” But Frieda’s sense of dread had started long before this happened.