I wanted to kiss him, but I didn’t. Instead I stated, “My mom was Jewish,” like it was something he should know. “So, I’m half,” I amended, studying Cal’s confused face. “Although a lot people say if your mom’s Jewish, you are too.”

The topic was fresh on my mind after listening to a Hassidim, in his top hat and tassels, warn onlookers of the injustices Jews were facing in Nazi Germany. I’d been following the news, which had grown more bizarre by the day. In August, Hitler had declared himself Führer and Reich Chancellor, and since then he’d been systematically stripping German Jews of their rights. I didn’t know how to feel about it other than confused.

“You say it like it’s a confession,” Cal pointed out.

“Is it?”

“You tell me.”

“It feels like it could be,” I relented, trying to read his demeanor. “I’ve never …” cared, understood, owned it, “practiced.”

“Do you want to practice?

“No.”

“I’ll learn with you,” he offered, pinching the stem of a leaf between his fingers so he could tickle my cheek with the tip. “If you’re interested …”

Chuckling, I swatted it away. “I’m not.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why aren’t you interested?” he pressed.

“Are you Catholic?” I asked. It wasn’t something we’d discussed, but with a name like Calvin Connolly, flame red hair and freckles, I had assumed my lover had Irish Catholic blood.

“My family is.”

“Are you interested in Catholicism?”

“No.”

“See,” I shrugged, propping myself up on my elbows and dropping my head back to drink in the sunbeams.

“Not see,” Cal chided with a light laugh. “You can’t say ‘see’ as if you’ve proved something when you haven’t.”

“You’re not interested, and neither am I.”

“The difference is I learned about Catholicism before concluding I wasn’t interested in practicing. How can you know you’re not interested in Judaism if you don’t know anything about it?”

“You have to be at least slightly interested in something to want to learn about it. I’m not interested enough to want to learn.”

“That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re obviously not listening to the radio because I assure you, if you were, you would realize the daily news is much sadder than my lack of interest in Judaism. You know, with dictators ruling several major countries and all.”

Cal rolled his eyes in a way that assured me he got my point.

“We’ve got Mussolini, Stalin, now Hitler. They have a few things in common.”

“Of course they do: they’re fascists, they’ve had their political opponents killed, and they back out of treaties,” he rattled off. “I pay attention, asshole.”

I grinned. “I know, but those aren’t the things I’m talking about.”