Chapters (45)
Jacob thought a moment, then shook his head.
Decker said, “Do you like her?”
“No. I think she’s detestable!”
“But you’re still attracted to her.”
“If you like mummies.”
Silence.
Jacob sighed. “Maybe.”
“It’s understandable.” Arm in arm, they walked through the sea of vehicles, trying to find the car.
“You did a really good job the other night,” Jacob said. “I was bowled over, how you just took command…had things all figured out in, like, no time. It made me proud to be your son.”
Decker allowed himself a slight smile. “Thank you. You couldn’t have said anything nicer.” He looked away. “I still think you should let me tell your Eema about my dragging you down—”
“She’ll only yell at both of us, Dad.”
“She should know about my stupidity.”
“Then she’ll find out about my stupidity. Frankly, who needs the friction? Besides, it was neat…being on the edge like that. It had a certain pulse.”
“You talk as if you enjoyed it, Yonkeleh.”
“A little…a lot, actually.”
“Don’t say that!” Decker cried out. “You’ll give your mother a heart attack.”
“So we won’t tell my mother that, either. Another little secret.” He sighed. “Lord knows we’ve had enough of them over the past couple of years.”
Decker threw his hand over his son’s shoulder. Jacob was so young, yet weighted down. “I know I have zero credibility with you, but you’ll be all right. It’ll work out, Yonkeleh.”
“Sure it will.”
“It will. All you need is a brilliant, stunningly beautiful, wonderful, Jewish, religious girl with a sexy body and an overactive libido.”
“Right!”
“They do exist—”
“No, Dad, they don’t exist!”
“Oh, they do.” A slow smile spread across Decker’s face. He raised his eyebrows. “Believe me, they do.”
Jacob stared at him. “Eeeuw!”
“Eeeuw?”
“Yes, eeeuw. Stop smiling like that! That’s my mother!”
“We all come into the world the same way, Yonkel, both prince and bastard—”
“Stop! I love my mother!”
“I love your mother, too. Just a little bit…differently than you do—”
“Oh, gross!” He stalked off toward the car.
Decker smiled broadly, sticking his hands into his pants pockets. Poor Jacob. He thought he had invented sex.
Acknowledgments
Special thanks to Malka Hier and the staff at the Museum of Tolerance in Los Angeles. May you go from strength to strength.