“I know that.”

“Well, I don’t think you do know that. Otherwise you wouldn’t look so damned worried.”

“I’m not worried.”

“Yeah, you are.” He clutched the wine as he spoke. “I’m going to have a wonderful meal with my family, all right? So stop giving me those looks! And don’t tell me you wouldn’t have had some feelings if it had been Sammy or Jacob bringing home an Ethiopian girl.”

“As long as she was Jewish, I wouldn’t care.”

“Well, aren’t you the liberal one!”

“Peter, why don’t you make yourself useful?” She handed him the bouquet of flowers. “Put these in a vase and set them on the Shabbat table. Then open the wine before you break the bottle.” She stirred a pot of lentil soup. “We’ll let it breathe while we’re in shul.”

Decker regarded his wife, then looked at the objects in his hands. He set them on the kitchen counter, realizing that his jaw was clenched. He took a deep breath in, then let it out. Reaching his long arms to the top cabinet, he opened the door and took down a cut-crystal vase. He placed it under the sink and began to fill it with water.

“Flowers … wine … the man has manners.” He growled out, “More than …”

He left it at that. Rina filled in the blank. “More than Cindy?”

“He’s probably too good for her.”

“She’s a good girl, Peter. She’s gone through hell—”

“I know that, Rina. Stop giving me perspective, okay? I’m not angry. I just don’t know why she didn’t … Forget it!”

Rina checked the meat thermometer in the lamb roast, then turned down the temperature. She opened the refrigerator and took out green beans. “I’ll put these on the hot tray. That way they won’t overcook. Nothing worse than limp green beans.”

“It smells good,” Decker said quietly.

“What does?”

“Everything.” He turned off the water and planted a kiss on his wife’s forehead. “Thank you for making this delicious meal. I’m snapping at you. I apologize.”

“I know you’re not a racist, Peter. And I’m not trying to one-up you, okay? It would have been nice if she had leveled with you. Just to prepare you.”

“Exactly!” Decker plunked the flowers into the vase. “That’s exactly what I meant!” Rummaging through the drawers, he found a corkscrew. “She tells me he’s a traditional Jew from Israel; I get a certain picture in my mind, that’s all.” He plunged the bit into the cork. “I’m too involved, that’s the problem. It’s her life.”

“He seems lovely,” Rina said.

“How can you tell that in thirty seconds?”

“He’s got beautiful eyes. They’re windows to the soul. I can just tell.”

“Nonsense, you’re being irrationally optimistic.”

“Peter, he’s Jewish, around her age, and gainfully employed.”

Decker stopped a moment, then shrugged. “True.” He went to work on the cork. “Well, if I say I’m not prejudiced, I guess I shouldn’t prejudge.”

A moment later, Cindy came in. Decker took in her face, then popped open the cork. He smelled the wine. “Not bad. It’ll be better after it breathes a little.”