“Yes,” I replied. “But some Jews pick and choose the rules that they’ll follow. Mrs. K makes sure she follows them all. I’ve seen rabbis in here for lunch.”

“So her question was a test, then,” Alex said.

“Not a test, exactly.” I smiled in apology. “More like a way to find out if you were Jewish or not.”

“Is it bad if I’m not?” he whispered, leaning across the table.

“That depends,” I whispered back, leaning forward, too.

“On what?”

I couldn’t help myself. “You don’t have to be Jewish, but circumcision is a requirement.”

Alex’s mouth dropped open in surprise, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from laughing.

“For you or Mrs. K?” Alex asked with a grimace.

“Me,” I said through the laughter I couldn’t hold back anymore.

Alex’s mouth snapped shut and he leaned back in his seat. He brushed off one shoulder and looked at me smugly. “I meet the requirement.”

I snorted out a laugh, making him smile.

“I knew you liked me,” he said happily.

“Did you?” I asked, taking a drink of my coffee.

“I was really hoping.”

“You know how attractive you are—” I began.

“Not prettier than you,” he cut in, reminding me of the night we met.

I laughed and shrugged. “I was searching for excuses, and you”—I pointed at him—“were a little too sure of yourself.”

“Confident,” he said.

“Cocky,” I replied.

“Comfortable in my own skin.”

“Conceited.”

“I give up,” he joked, raising his hands in the air.

“You’re hard to say no to,” I confessed, taking another sip of my coffee. “But I’m being honest when I say I have no time. I work and go to school all week, and on my days off I clean my house and do homework.”

“I’m good at cleaning,” he said, his lips tipping up in a lopsided grin.

“Are you offering to clean my house?” I asked incredulously.

“If it means I can spend some time with you, then yes.”

“Done.” I smacked my hand lightly on the table.

“Really?” he asked, his eyes lighting up.

“No, not really,” I replied, kicking his foot under the table. “You’re not cleaning my house.”

“Honestly, Sarai,” he said, pausing as the waitress put our plates down in front of us. “Whenever you can make time, I’ll be there.”

I watched him as he casually picked up his fork and butter knife.

“Look,” he said, putting his fork and knife back down when he realized that I hadn’t started eating yet. “You have a life and I have a life. Right now it sounds like you’re busier than I am, okay? At some point, I’m going to be busier than you. That’s just the way things work when you’re an adult. I’m willing to work around our schedules if you are.”