senior citizens coming up in a bus from Little Neck to pray in his apartment, a field trip for the underemployed. He would offer them something to eat and they would accept some token, probably a cookie each, maybe some warm water with lemon. Then they’d get down to business, reading from their prayer books in unison, not comprehending the Hebrew words. On their way out, they would make the appropriate sad faces at him and one of them might offer some Yiddish aphorism about sad times.
It was too horrible. “That’s very gracious of you, thanks,” Adam said. “I’m okay. I don’t know how much praying I’ll be doing, but there are temples near here if I get the urge.”
Rabbi Mira was undaunted. Adam wondered how often she had this exact conversation. “Of course, we’d never want to intrude,” she said. “But you can change your mind any time. Just let me know. I also wanted to remind you that Rosh Hashana is practically here. I can’t believe it, but it starts Wednesday night, so the shiva period will end early. I don’t think I can get to you before the holiday, but I would like to stop by sometime soon if I could. I also wanted to invite you to our temple for High Holiday services this year. I know you usually came with your grandfather. Please be our guest.”
Adam hadn’t thought about Rosh Hashana without his grandfather. His throat constricted. He needed to get off the phone. “Thank you, Rabbi. I can get your number from Danny if I need it.”
The afternoon passed like a fever as Adam stared unfocused into space. Only the occasional stab of grief prodded his consciousness to awaken, like some swamp creature surfacing for air before sinking back down into the mud. It was after five when the phone rang again. This time, it was his cell. It was Danny.
“How are you doing, Danny?” Adam asked. He held his breath. He could hear it coming.
“Not so good, Adam.” The whine in Danny’s voice set Adam’s teeth on edge. “I need a favor.”
Adam knew his grandfather would have been Danny’s first call. Evidently, he was next in line. He exhaled slowly. “Yeah?” He moved his laundry over to the dryer as Danny spoke.
“I’m at a trade show in Jersey. Rose has known about it for months, but she got called into work. It’s an emergency, she says, and I can’t get home in time even if I leave now.” Danny paused, waiting, Adam knew, for an offer of help. After a couple of seconds, Danny asked, “Can you cover for me?”
“Cover what?” Adam was still in a fog.
“Henry. Can you watch Henry for me until I get back?”
Adam couldn’t claim to be too busy, he thought, not after pissing away the whole day. And he had to admit to himself that the thought of spending some time with Henry was appealing. He could read him a couple of books, maybe sing him a song or two. The change of venue might even help him get something done. And his grandfather would have been very pleased, Adam knew. He loved that boy.
“Do you need me to leave now?” Adam asked.
“Could you? I’m two hours away, but the conference ends soon. I’m making some important connections. If I could stay to the end and then rush over there, it would mean a lot.”
“Yeah. I can come. Don’t be late, okay? I still have work to do for tomorrow.”
“Thanks a million, Adam!” Danny said. “I knew I could count on you. I’ll tell Rose to expect you.”
Adam packed his notes and his computer and headed out. He was on the expressway within ten minutes and at Danny’s within thirty-five.
Danny’s house was a Tudor on a quiet cul-de-sac, just a couple of blocks from the traffic and noise of Northern Boulevard. Rose was waiting on the front steps as Adam made his way up the long walk. She had changed a lot since high school, Adam noted. Her hair was darker, almost black, and it was cut in sharp lines to her jaw. The red of her lipstick still made a striking contrast against the milky white of her face, but she now wore a painted-on smile in place of her adolescent scowl. Adam wasn’t a fan of either, but if he had to choose, he preferred the scowl. She must still have her tattoo, he thought, though it was hidden under her crisply tailored blazer. It was a rose, he remembered. She wasn’t one to avoid the obvious. She was holding Henry. Adam thought the boy’s light brown curls had grown longer since the last time he was there.
Adam grinned at Henry before he looked back at Rose. “Danny told me you had to run out,” he said, hoping she might take that as a combined greeting and dismissal.
Rose nodded. She handed the baby to Adam. “He should be just about ready to go down,” she said. “He just ate and he’s wearing a new diaper. There are more on the changing table in his room if you need them.” She spoke over her shoulder as she entered the house. Adam followed her in. “I thought I had Labor Day off,” she said, “but we have a new client, a very big name, and I got called in. It’s still very hush hush, so I can’t talk about it.”
Adam had no response. On his best day, he couldn’t give a shit about advertising or marketing, whichever Rose did. There was a difference, apparently, but he’d never figured it out. “We’ll be fine,” he said.
Rose glanced up at the clock again. “Shit, I’m late,” she said. “I need to run.” She grabbed a black leather purse and snatched the keys off the hook by the door on her way out. Everything was fine until Adam heard her car pull out. That’s when Henry started fussing, growing more and more agitated so that he was crying loudly within a couple of minutes.
“Are you hungry?” Adam asked. Are you thirsty? There was no answer, of course. Henry’s diaper wasn’t full. “Maybe there’s something in the cupboard,” Adam said. He checked, but most of the food there needed chewing and Henry had one tooth. Crackers and pretzels weren’t going to work.
Henry made it clear that the bottle of formula Adam found wasn’t going to cut it either, but some digging uncovered a pint of peach ice cream in the freezer. Adam figured there was only so wrong you could go with fruit and milk. He scooped a couple of generous teaspoons into a small bowl and fed Henry the ice cream with the tiniest spoon he could find in the silverware drawer. Henry looked at Adam with such surprise and delight that Adam almost laughed.
Adam hummed to him while he ate, and by the time the ice cream was gone, Henry was struggling to keep his eyes open. Adam put the bowl and spoon in the sink, and then he wet his finger under the faucet and used it to clean Henry’s tooth before he took him upstairs. There was a rocking chair in Henry’s room and Adam sat in it, holding Henry against his chest. He rocked Henry for a long time, willing his own muscles to relax as he lulled the boy to sleep. It was a trick his grandfather had taught him the last time Adam had watched Henry, the night of his grandfather’s birthday.
It had been raining for hours that day, and they were at his grandfather’s apartment. Rose was away at the time, on a business trip. Adam had arrived on time, he remembered, in the afternoon. But when he had walked in, it looked like Danny and Henry had already been there forever. Adam could still picture his grandfather bouncing the boy in his lap, singing him nonsense songs while Danny stood alongside him. He remembered the pang of loneliness he felt then, the feeling of being an outsider in his own home.
After dinner, Danny had been called into work to deal with a part of the cemetery that had been flooding. Adam didn’t know what happened when a cemetery flooded, but he imagined it was bad news. That’s what the look on Danny’s face suggested at the time, Adam thought.
Adam smiled as he remembered how, when it was time to get Henry to bed, he and his grandfather rearranged the cushions on the living room couch to make a crib for him. They must have used a hundred feet of duct tape to hold it all together, but after his grandfather went to sleep, Adam still wasn’t sure that it would hold. When Henry had finally conked out in the makeshift bed they had assembled, Adam settled himself down onto the floor right beside him so that if Henry did fall, he would fall on Adam. In the end, Danny was away most of the night. When he finally came home at about four in the morning, he woke Adam and shook his head at all the duct tape, “For God’s sake,” he said, “Rose doesn’t need to hear about this.”