20
***
Jacob had twelve sons. Each became one of the twelve tribes of Israel (Numbers 1:4). I wonder what tribe my descendants are from. I'm sure the Internet doesn't track birth records from that far back.
***
It takes a few minutes for me to comprehend what Avi just told me. Specialized fighting unit. Being the enemy. I pull back and look into his eyes. "We're supposed to see each other next summer when I come to visit. You promised me."
"I got time off now instead."
"Where are you going to be living in the summer?" Avi gives me a small smile. "I'll be traveling a lot."
"In the Middle East?" I ask. "Yes. And Europe."
"I don't like that," I tell him. "Not one bit." Taking a look at my watch, I realize we better head to Rosebud or my dad will be worried. "My dad's meeting us for dinner," I tell Avi, then start walking but I feel like I'm in a trance.
Avi takes his place right next to me. "Did I freak you out?" he asks.
"Yep." Totally freaked me out. All these thoughts are running through my head, especially the ones where men are captured and tortured and mutilated. I mean, it's inhumane what's going on in the world. I seriously like my life right here, as safe as I could be in a big city like Chicago.
I'm silent the rest of the walk to Rosebud. My dad is already there, sitting and waiting at a table. He waves us over and stands up to shake Avi's hand and to pat him on the back. Does my dad know? Does he have any idea Avi is about to risk his life for Israel just like he did at Avi's age?
I roll my eyes as they immediately start speaking in Hebrew, strange words and sounds pouring out of their mouths super fast. My phone vibrates with a text message. I read it under the table.
Jess: Where did you run off to?
Me: Dinner
Jess: Avi ok?
Me: Yep.
Jess: Does he know you XOXOed Nathan?
Me: NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The waitress is standing over to our table, but the guys are oblivious.
"I'll have a Coke," I tell her. "No ice. No lemon." There's nothing worse than watered-down Coke. "Got it. And for the gentlemen?"
The gentlemen are gurgling and gargling their way through a very intense conversation. They're probably talking about Avi's army training because my dad is totally concentrated and impressed with whatever Avi's talking about. Boys and their gun talk...
I just want to forget about guns and army and elite forces these next seven days. I'm going to treat his military service as if it doesn't exist. Ignorance keeps me sane sometimes. "When you're ready to speak English, just wake me up," I say, then lay my head down on the table.
"Sorry, sweetheart," my dad says. "I was just telling Avi your mom is pregnant."
"Thanks, Aba" I tell him sarcastically. "I'm sure I couldn't have told him that myself." I don't understand why everyone in my life just can't keep their mouths shut.
As my temperature is rising and my heart is pounding, I feel Avi's hand reach under the table for mine. As soon as our fingers touch, I take a calming breath. It's as if Avi knew I was starting to panic about everything. He gets big brownie points for this.
Even though I'm usually carb-conscious, I can't resist the warm bread at Rosebud. The loaf is crunchy on the outside and soft and warm on the inside. Taking the jug of olive oil, I pour some of the golden liquid onto my little appetizer plate and spoon parmesan cheese on top.
Avi is staring at me strangely. "What are you doing?"
"Tell me you've never dipped bread in oil and parmesan."
"I've dipped pita into hummus," he says.
"Not the same." I rip off a piece of bread and hand it to Avi. "Here, try it."
He tries it and nods. "That's awesome. Totally unhealthy, but awesome."
When our dishes come, Avi digs in to his food with gusto.
His mouth is going to get spoiled eating Chicago food. We have the best restaurants in the entire country, the largest portions, and probably one of the highest obesity rates.
"Are you watching me eat?" Avi asks, slowing his chewing rate.
"I just want to make sure you like it."
"Amy, in the army you get eggs, jam, bread, and slow-cooked meat. As long as I'm not eating any of those, I'm in heaven."
My dad laughs, then goes into a long, detailed story on the horrible food they served when he was in the army. I stop listening when he talks about bees being stuck in the jam. The rest of the dinner is okay, except that it's mostly my dad and Avi talking and me just wondering when I can get some alone time with my non-boyfriend.
I guess now is better than ever to break it to my dad before he finds out from someone else. "Mutt kind of had an incident this afternoon at the dog park."
Both of them look at me.
"What kind of incident?" my dad asks.
I start peeling away the nail polish from the manicure I just had. "He sort of impregnated Princess. Well, I'm not one hundred percent sure, but Mr. Obermeyer seems to think he did and he's more of an expert on these things than I am."
My dad's hand slaps over his face and he squeezes his eyes shut. "Please tell me you're joking."
"Mr. Obermeyer almost called the police." Then I blurt out, "But he didn't, so it's okay."
"Okay? Okay? Amy, I told you Mutt needs to be fixed."