Chapter Three

“Of course it matters, Jacob,” his mother said on the phone to him the next morning. “Your social life is important, whether it’s casual now or more serious after you finish studying.”

Jacob gripped the hair at the nape of his neck. He began counting to ten. He made it to three.

“Jacob? Jacob, are you there?”

He gritted his teeth. “Yes, Ma, I’m here.”

“Well, we need to talk about your social life.”

He took a deep breath. He closed and opened his eyes before he spoke. “No, we don’t. I need to study.”

“Jacob, you’re a brilliant young man. Any law firm would be lucky to have you. But you also need to balance things out with a girlfriend.”

“I don’t want a girlfriend.”

“Wait. Jacob, are you trying to tell me you’re gay? Because it’s fine if you are, but you need to tell your mother these things.”

He was going to lose all the hair on the back of his head. Did men lose hair there? He’d have the reverse “monk” look. It would be ridiculous. Especially since he was Jewish.

“No, Ma, I’m not gay. But thanks for your support.”

“Are you sure? Don’t be lippy with me. I’m still your mother.”

He swallowed. There wasn’t enough oxygen in the world for him to breathe through all his frustration. “I’m positive. I just don’t have time for a girlfriend right now.”

“But you would if you had one.”

“Huh?”

“You’d have time for one if you had one. You’d make the time. Just like you make time for other things. Which is why I’ll introduce you to the daughter of a friend of mine.”

“What? No! You can’t do that.”

“Jacob, it’s a mother’s job to make her son happy.”

“But I am happy.”

“Don’t lie to your mother.”

She was killing him. “Uh, I’ve kind of already met someone.”

“What?”

Jacob pulled the phone away from his ear. On a good day, he could hear his mother through the phone when it sat on his lap. Right now, with her shriek, well, he couldn’t hear anything, but when his hearing returned, he’d be able to hear her across the room.

“I said I’ve already met someone.” He wasn’t lying.

“When? Where?”

“Last weekend. At a speed-dating event.”

“Speed-dating. Hmm, we’ll talk about that later. In the meantime, tell me about her. What’s her name? What does she do? What’s she like?”

“Her name is Aviva. She has short brown hair, a great sense of humor, smart.” So far, so good.

“What does she do?”

Crap. “She’s an escape artist.”

His mother was silent on the other end of the phone. That wasn’t a good sign.

“Jacob?”

“It’s a joke, Ma.”

“Is Aviva a joke?”

“No, she’s real.”

“Stop joking and tell me about her.”

He pulled his hair again. What kind of woman would his mother think was perfect for him? “She’s pretty. She lives with her parents in New Jersey. She’s going to cooking school to learn to be a chef and hopes to open her own restaurant. She has a dry sense of humor and likes Rowan Atkinson, like Dad used to. She loves animals and kids. She coaches a girl’s basketball team at a local Boys & Girls Club, likes to travel to exotic places and plays the piano. Jazz.” Oh man. He was totally lying. To his mother. Thank goodness she would never meet Aviva.

“Well, it sounds like a lovely list of character traits, but how do you feel about her?”

“It’s a little early for feelings, Ma.”

His mother sighed. “When do I get to meet her?”

“Ma, I just met her.”

“Jacob, don’t waste time. If she’s as wonderful as you say, she won’t stay single for long.”

Jacob said he had to study and they said their goodbyes. He hung up and sank onto the sofa. He’d barely avoided a catastrophe with his mother, all because he didn’t want to date anyone.

He stared at his books but couldn’t concentrate now. Her voice reverberated in his mind. He needed to do something to quiet it. Turning to his computer, he scrolled through his emails until he found an advertisement for a pirate exhibit at the Discovery Times Square museum. He smiled to himself. He loved pirates when he was a kid. His dad had fostered that love. This would be the perfect way to get his mind off his mother. Grabbing his keys, he left the apartment.

Worst case, it might provide him a way to make her walk the plank.

****

“Aunt Aviva, come look at this pirate!”

Aviva smiled at her nephew’s enthusiasm as Ben dragged her through the crowded display hall of the Discovery Times Square museum. At seven, her nephew loved everything to do with pirates. As soon as she’d heard about the Shipwreck exhibit, she reserved tickets for the two of them.

They approached Blackbeard’s display. Ben made pirate noises while Aviva read his story out loud.

“Did you know he operated around the East Coast of the United States?” she asked him. “He never harmed the sailors on the ships he took.”

“I read a book about him. He used his beard to scare people.”

“Do you think his beard was scary?”

“Maybe if he growled a lot.” Ben scrunched his freckled face into a fearsome frown and stroked a pretend beard.

Aviva laughed. “Hey, you can draw your own pirate over there.”

They waited in line for a kiosk to free up, and Ben got to work. When they were done, they turned to go. Ben bumped into someone.

“Sorry,” Ben said.

The man looked down. “It’s—”

Aviva looked up and gasped. “I can’t—”

Ben looked between the two adults. “What’s going on, Aunt Aviva?”

Aviva’s stomach fluttered. She absently slipped her hand over Ben’s head. “We know each other. It’s Jacob, right?”

“Yeah. You’re Aviva?”

She nodded. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

“Same.” He looked at Ben. “Exploring pirates with your nephew?”

“How…oh. Yes, he’s a big pirate fan.”

“So am I.” His face colored. Aviva smiled. He was embarrassed to admit he liked pirates? How sweet.

“What’s your favorite part of the exhibit?” Jacob asked Ben.

Ben looked around the room, his face scrunched in concentration. “I think I like all of it the best.”

Aviva smiled at her nephew.

“I should let you both get back to your explorations.” Jacob turned to leave.

“Are you two going to go out on a date?” Ben asked.

Aviva gasped. Her heart thundered and her cheeks warmed.

Jacob turned around and tipped his head toward him, one eyebrow raised. “Why do you ask, matey?”

Ben looked solemn. “Because you’re being nice to her. Girls like that.”

“Ben!” Aviva fought her sudden desire to escape. She fingered her Chai necklace.

Jacob’s shoulders shook. By the look on his face, he was trying not to laugh, which made her desire to disappear more urgent. “They do, huh?” he asked.

Ben nodded. “And they like stinky flowers too. Except, they don’t think they stink.” He shook his head in disgust. Aviva didn’t know if she should laugh or try to melt into the floor.

“You seem to know a lot about girls.”

“Girls are icky. No self-respecting pirate would let a girl on his ship.”

“Hey, wait a minute, Ben,” Aviva said. “Look over there at that display. It’s all about female pirates.”

She pointed across the room to a small, but interesting, display. “You should check out Back From the Dead Red,” she added.

Ben’s eyes widened. He ran to the display. Mortified, Aviva realized Jacob continued to stand with her. She wracked her brain trying to figure out whether to apologize for Ben or create an excuse to leave.

“Your nephew is cute,” Jacob said, breaking the silence.

The sound of his voice eased some of her nerves. She took a deep breath. “Thanks. He’s my brother’s son and the first and only grandchild, so he gets a lot of attention. I usually have to beat the grandparents off with a stick to spend time with him.” She was babbling.

She walked toward Ben, who was mesmerized by the display. Jacob followed. Why doesn’t he just leave?

“See, Ben, women were pirates too.”

“Did you know she pretended to be dead, Aunt Aviva? She lived like a man. She died in a shootout!”

“Sounds pretty violent to me, Ben,” Aviva said.

“That’s ’cause you’re a girl.”

“It’s a pretty good thing she is a girl, Ben,” Jacob said.

“Why?” Ben asked.

Jacob looked at Aviva. He winked. She raised her eyebrows waiting for his response. Maybe he should stay a little longer.

“Because if she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be your aunt.”

Ben paused, his face scrunched. With a shrug, he moved onto the next display.

“That’s not where I thought you were going,” Aviva said.

Jacob shrugged. “Come on, he’s only a kid. What did you expect me to say? I can’t corrupt him this young.”

“Good thing. I don’t think my brother would forgive me. I think he wants to do all the corrupting himself.”

“Probably right. Well, I should leave the two of you alone to enjoy the rest of your weekend. It was nice to see you again.”

“You too.”

Jacob walked away. Just as she was about to follow Ben into the next room, Jacob paused. He clenched and unclenched his hands before walking back to her. “Should we listen to him?”

Aviva swiveled her head from Ben to Jacob. “Listen to whom? My brother?”

“No, your nephew. He suggested we go out on a date.”

Her face heated. “Well, technically he asked if we were going to go out on a date. He didn’t actually suggest it.”

Jacob’s eyes brightened. Aviva couldn’t turn away. They weren’t brown, they weren’t green. They were…the color of cognac. The noise of the people around them faded into the distance.

“True, but it would be rude of us to not give him an answer.”

“It would be a shame to disappoint a seven year old,” she said.

“That’s right. He might go through his whole life feeling like he was missing something.”

“That really wouldn’t be fair.”

“So, what do you say—want to go out on a date?”

“With you?”

Jacob looked around for a moment. “Well, there’s a security guard over there, but I’m not sure he’s your type.”

Aviva pretended to consider. “No, not really,” she said, without a glance at the guard. “Yes, I’d like to go out on a date with you.”

Jacob expelled a breath. Once again, Aviva was drawn to his sweetness. He thrust his hands in his pockets before pulling out his phone. “Can you give me your number?”

His smile was a little bashful. He had beautifully straight, white teeth. It was either good genetics or a great orthodontist.

She nodded. His whole demeanor relaxed. He tapped the screen a few times. She recited her number. He repeated it.

“Great. I hope you don’t mind if we wait until next weekend. My class schedule this week is crazy, but I’ll call you tomorrow to set something up.”

“Oh, right, you’re a law student.” Her shoulders slumped. Law students were overworked.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, fine. Call whenever you have time.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow. Bye, Ben!” He disappeared into the crowd.

“Hey, Aunt Aviva, can we get ice cream? I’m hungry.”

“Sure thing,” she said as Jacob disappeared into the distance.

He probably won’t even call.

****

At eight thirty the next morning, Jacob looked at his phone. He shook his head. What the hell was he thinking? He didn’t have time for a social life. He barely had time to breathe. One minute he told his mother he didn’t have time to date, the next he asked Aviva out. He should forget it. He had to study. With a yawn, he made himself a pot of coffee, sat at his desk, and opened his books.

Two hours later, he pushed away with a groan. He’d told her he’d call. And he always kept his word. He’d enjoyed his conversation with her yesterday. Could he somehow find the time to make it work? Pulling up the calendar on his phone, he searched for time to spare. Classes, assignments, and study time left little room for anything else. He punched the Contacts button and searched for her number. Best to get this over with. Maybe if he got her out of his system, he’d be able to forget about her and concentrate. She answered on the third ring.

“Aviva? Hi, it’s Jacob. From the Discovery Museum. And the speed-dating fiasco.”

Aviva laughed, reminding him of a bowl of cherries in a sunlit kitchen—bright and genuine and full of flavor. “I don’t know if I’d call it a fiasco, technically. But I didn’t expect you to be this prompt.”

He glanced at the clock. “Well, I told you I’d call. I’m on a break now and I won’t have time later. I thought you might be interested in dinner on Saturday night with a round of bowling at Bowl Rite in Jersey City afterward.”

“You bowl? Somehow I don’t picture you bowling.”

“Well, I don’t have a monogrammed bowling ball, but I always have fun. We can do something else if you’d rather.”

“No, I’d love to go bowling. Saturday is good.”

“Great. If you give me your address, I can pick you up. Unless you’d be more comfortable meeting me at the restaurant.”

“No, you can come to my building.” She gave him the address.

That night, while he studied at the library, Aviva texted him.

—what do u think?—

He frowned at the distraction but scrolled down and chortled out loud. She’d texted him a picture of a monogrammed bowling ball—bright pink, with the letters of her name engraved in sparkly silver writing. Hushes from fellow students stifled him.

—didn’t know u were a “pink” person—he typed.

—didn’t know U were into bowling—

—guess we’re even now. Looking forward 2 learning more about u—

The next day, he called his mom. “Can you take a picture of Dad’s old bowling shirt and text it to me?”

“Jacob, I don’t text.”

“Okay, could you email it to me?”

“What do you need it for? Shouldn’t you be in class now?”

Jacob moved the phone from his ear and took a deep breath. “It’s Monday, Ma, I don’t have class until eleven today. I want to show it to a friend.”

“You know I’ll do anything for you. I have my mah jongg group in a half hour, so I’ll take the picture and send it to you when I get back.”

“Thanks, Ma, love you.”

“Love you too, dear.”

That evening, when he checked his email, the picture waited in his inbox. The shirt looked to be straight out of the sixties, brown- and white-striped with the team logo on the back, his Dad’s name stitched in gold thread on the front pocket. He typed a quick text it to Aviva.

—will u still go out w/me if I wear this?—

A few moments later, he received her answer.

—I was thinking of this 1. it goes w/my ball—

The shirt was pink with Betty Boop on the pocket and rhinestones on the collar.

—guess we’re good—

Two days later, Jacob received another text from Aviva.

—found the perfect shoes—

“Holy—” He silenced himself as his classmates turned to look at him. She’d texted him a photo of bright pink bowling shoes with silver rhinestone stripes. As soon as class was over, he searched the web for vintage men’s bowling shoes. He shot her a text of a pair he found.

—these r mine—

—awesome—

By Saturday afternoon, Jacob oscillated between hoping Aviva would show up in her bright pink bowling outfit and praying she wasn’t a poufy pink kind of girl. She’d seemed to be joking, but you could never be sure via text. He locked his apartment, whistled as he jogged down the stairs. Time for the moment of truth.