And Decker’s last conversation with Donatti had been promising. He was hoping that Chris might come through with something.

Rina said, “Far from making fun of you—although it is tempting—I admire your flexibility and your compassion. It shows what a true man you are. I will, once again, change the tickets.” She threw her arms around Decker’s neck and kissed him hard on the mouth. “It’s not religiously modest, but it is heartfelt.”

“I like that!” Decker said. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Just for being you. Now, we should go inside so the kids don’t think we’re fighting.”

It took them ten minutes to be seated. The tables were so close to one another that Decker could have lap-danced with his neighbor’s Cornish hen. With all the packages and Jacob’s valise, they were as tight as pack animals. The tables were covered with red-checkered paper and there was sawdust on the floor. It was loud and noisy and smoky, but boy did it smell good.

It took another five minutes to get menus from a waiter wearing a blue denim shirt, white jeans, and sneakers. All the servers were dressed alike. They scuttled and scurried as if their job consisted of aerobic exercise. Another five minutes produced five glasses of ice water and bread and margarine.

Next everyone got up to ritually wash so they could break bread.

The bread was gone five minutes later.

They had been in the restaurant for a half hour, and all they had to show for it were crumbs and ice cubes. Prison could have done just as well.

“Hey, Sammy,” someone called out.

Sammy turned around. “Ari!” He got up and talked to Ari for five minutes. He made introductions. Rina and Decker smiled. Hello, hello. Ari left; then a busboy came, holding more bread. He took orders for drinks, then left.

Rina asked Decker, “How hungry are you?”

“I was hungry when I started out. Now I’m ravenous. And no, I don’t want to split anything.”

“Boy, someone’s blood sugar has taken a nosedive,” Sammy said.

“Eat the bread,” Rina offered.

“I don’t want bread!” Decker groused. “I want meat!”

The waiter finally came back, pad in hand. “Are you ready?”

“I’ve been ready for forty minutes—”

“Peter—”

“Chateaubriand for two for one,” Decker ordered.

“It’s big,” the waiter remarked.

“So am I.” He handed the waiter the menu.

The boys decided to split the Chateaubriand. Rina chose the rib steak. Hannah ordered a hot dog and fries. Jacob heard his name called out, then turned around.

“Reuven! What are you doing here?”

“Probably the same thing you’re doing here,” Reuven answered. “Bumming a meal off my parents. These are your parents?”

Jacob said, “These are my parents.”

Reuven smiled. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Lazarus.”

“Actually, it’s Mr. Decker,” Decker answered. “I’m his stepfather.”

“Yeah, but he pays all the college tuition, so that qualifies him as a dad,” Sammy answered.

Reuven’s father broke into laughter. He offered his hand to Decker. “Shragy Miller.”