The Goy Next Door (Girl Meets Goy #2)

Chapter 26 Unnecessary emojis

“It’s only been like two weeks!” Leah exclaimed into the phone.

“I’m not saying you need to marry him! It’s just dinner, you need to eat, right?” Savannah responded. “And you just never know! Give it a chance! Worst case scenario, you got a free dinner!”

Leah rolled her eyes although her mother couldn’t see her. It was a pointless conversation because they’d already gone through this and Leah had already agreed. In fact, she was already on the way. Her mother had just called to confirm that her daughter wasn’t going to stand the poor guy up.

“He’s really a very nice guy,” Savannah continued. “He’s some sort of entrepreneur or something. Very smart!”

“You don’t know him at all, Mom, don’t lie.” Leah could feel the sweat starting to form on her lower back. It was just barely July, but summer was in full swing and the heat was intensified by the subway vents that blew hot air onto the streets.

“I know his mother! Well, his aunt. I think I might have met his mother once at some function at the synagogue, maybe it was during our March Mitzvah Day? Or the Israel Parade last year? I don’t remember exactly—”

“It really doesn’t matter, Mom,” Leah responded and then quickly ended the conversation. Holding the phone to her ear made her face sweat. She really hadn’t wanted to go on a date. It was too soon, she had only been unengaged for a couple weeks and besides, she wasn’t interested in anyone her Mom might set her up with. But for some reason, she had agreed—or maybe she hadn’t—but somehow the guy had gotten her number and he had called her and seemed friendly enough and Leah hadn’t had a good excuse ready for why she was too busy to ever find a time to go out with him. So she agreed even though it mostly went against her new philosophy of not flowing with the current. She was only two weeks into 23 and there was plenty of time to get on track. But first, she would prove to her mother that all these set ups were bad ideas.

They were meeting at a restaurant in Leah’s neighborhood, which Leah thought was generous so she didn’t have to go much out of her way for the date. After work, she had gotten on the subway, but because she still had time before her date she decided to get off a few stops early so she could walk the rest of the way. It was a decision she was coming to regret as droplets of sweat seemed to form in every nook and cranny on her body.

Her phone buzzed and she saw it was a text from the guy her mom knew the aunt and had once met his mother. To others, he was known as Drew. Probably Andrew, Leah assumed. She looked at the text.

Here early. See you soon ??

She didn’t like the smiley face. It turned her off somehow, like guys were not supposed to be smiley or add unnecessary emojis. But maybe she was judging him too harshly. Although, the smiley wasn’t the only thing in the text that put Leah off. She didn’t like the pressured feeling that the text gave her, like she was supposed to hurry up and get there simply because he was early.

She didn’t hurry up. Hurrying up might create more beads of sweat on her body, which would make this date even more uncomfortable than it needed to be. So, instead, she slowed down.

Be there soon! She responded (no emoji) and continued walking uptown. At this pace, she’d arrive five minutes after their scheduled time, which might sound late to someone who arrived early, but according to everyone else on the planet, five minutes late was still on time.

When she arrived at the small Mexican restaurant, she immediately knew which seat was hers. It was at the small table in the middle of the floor with an overly eager looking man wearing a kippah on his head. He smiled and waved to her as she walked in and she smiled back.

“Hi, sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, instantly angry at herself for apologizing. She had done nothing wrong.

“Oh, it’s OK,” he responded and as he did, a waiter placed a cocktail in front of Leah.

“Oh, I didn’t—” she started to tell the waiter it must be a mistake, but her date—Drew—cut her off.

“I ordered for you,” he said. “I thought you might be thirsty.”

She looked at the bright cocktail that was orange on top but transitioned to red down the cup. It looked pretty and inviting and she took a sip. “Strong,” she commented.

“It’s their specialty here,” he offered. “I looked it up on Yelp so I would know the best things to order.”

Leah smiled politely and then the waiter came back with a few plates of food that he set on the table. Tacos, nachos, and a few fried things that Leah hadn’t been sure about.

“They’re known for the fish tacos,” Drew said. “Try one!” He immediately reached over and picked one up and placed it on her plate. Leah looked from the taco to her date across from her and wondered how she had ever agreed to this. Free dinner, she tried to remind herself, but she would have rather paid for her meal and chosen it herself. Or at least used her own hands to serve herself.

“I hear you’re a reporter,” he said, serving himself a taco and taking a bite. “That’s pretty interesting. I thought reporting was a dying industry, you know, with social media and whatever these days.”

“Social media can’t replace real journalism,” she found herself defending. It was actually a conversation she had had often when people asked about her profession. Everyone seemed to think that opinions on social media were as important as reported facts in the news.

“True! So tell me about the real journalism you do? Do you go undercover? Is it like Watergate? Are you exposing truths about corruption or scandals?” The crunch of his taco hit Leah’s ears hard and she felt angry and defensive. How could she defend real journalism while she had spent her day writing about the best Amazon Prime Deals that your parents won’t care if you use their credit card for?

“You know, I am not feeling great,” she said. “Maybe it’s the alcohol and this heat.”

“Should I order you some orange juice? Or something else? If you don’t like fish tacos, the nachos are supposed to be good too.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Drew, this was a mistake. I am going to go.”

“Should we reschedule when you feel better? Let me have them box this and I can walk you home!”

Leah again shook her head. “No need,” she said. “You should enjoy the meal you ordered. I’ll be OK. It was nice meeting you.” She stood up and walked as fast as she could out of the restaurant. That was the last straw.

She darted down the streets toward her apartment so quickly that she barely noticed when she almost bumped into that bare chest that was racing toward her.

“Leah!” he said, out of breath with his hands on her shoulders as he steadied her. “Are you OK?” She looked up from the muscled bare chest to Gabe’s face.

“Why do I keep running into you?” She exclaimed and shook her head.

“You’re right next door to my apartment,” he motioned up to the brownstone in front of them. “I was just heading out for a run. Are you OK? You look flustered.”

“It’s just the heat,” she said, trying not to think about the last time she’d seen his bare chest. The last time she’d pressed against it. How smooth it felt, how strong he was.

“Do you feel like you’re getting heatstroke? Let’s get you some water,” he suggested and he pointed his arm as though to invite Leah in the direction of his apartment. She knew she shouldn’t accept his invitation. Her own apartment was just minutes away and she could get as much water as she needed there, but she wanted to go to his apartment.

They walked inside and he grabbed a water bottle from his fridge and handed it to her. The apartment looked exactly as it had the last time she’d been there. There were books stacked by his messy bed, cases of water bottles by the door, and pots and pans drying next to the sink. She wondered if he was now cooking for somebody else.

“Thanks,” she said, as she took a sip. She sat down at the small table where they had eaten dinner together plenty of times after he cooked for her and they discussed the books they were reading or their jobs or hundreds of other things that made Leah laugh and also think.

He stood silently while she sat quietly and sipped the water. “Gabe,” she said. “Thank you.”

He nodded and looked toward the door. “If you’re OK then…” His voice trailed. “I still have to go for a run tonight, it’s part of the training plan.”

She wanted to suggest that she’d wait for him, that maybe she’d prepare them dinner or that maybe he could just skip his run altogether, but she just nodded and stood up. She looked at him longingly and wondered if he could read the pleading in her eyes.

“You told me it couldn’t work between us,” he finally said. “I’m never going to be Jewish and I know that you’ll never be truly OK with that. It’s just better we don’t.”

She looked down and wanted to cry. This hurt more than ending her engagement with Asher. But he was right. Her Judaism was important to her and just like Asher had said when they broke up about him wanting to raise Jewish children, she felt the same way. And it didn’t matter the technicalities of her children being Jewish because she was Jewish. She wanted a partner to raise those kids Jewish together. Someone who would understand the importance of Hanukkah and say the Kiddush on Friday nights.

She followed Gabe back out of his apartment where the summer heat was starting to fade into the evening.

“Enjoy your run,” she said and he waved goodbye before darting down the street toward Central Park.