Page 90 of The Dating Contract

“It’s appointment viewing,” his father replied, focused as usual on the years of tradition Samuel was about to break. “I can’t sleep without his dulcet tones yelling about how annoying the announcers are.”

Which they often were, unless the game was being broadcast on the home network. But that was another conversation for another time.

“Games on Union Sports,” Tommy interjected. “So the announcers are fine.”

“Let him go,” Aaron added. “He’s got to get his girl.”

“You’ll bring her back?”

Which was a question from his mother but could have been anybody asking.

“I might. But if there’s news to tell, I’ll tell you.”

“Good,” his mother said as his father and Tommy went off to watch the game. “I always liked her, and I never understood what happened. I hope the two of you can figure this out.”

“Me too,” he said, as he left the dining room and headed upstairs to grab the package, looking briefly in the mirror to make sure he didn’t look awful.

Fixing that took some time, but when he was ready, he was clear that presentable was fine.

At least he thought so. All he knew, as he managed to get himself down the stairs and out the door into a beautiful Briarwood summer night, was that he couldn’t make a mistake. Not one.

Thankfully the location of Leah’s family’s Shabbas dinner wasn’t that far, which meant a nice walk toward a very uncertain future. And he’d do this, he’d convince her. Step by step.

*

Everything had tobe perfect.

She barely managed to choke down dinner, Shayna’s attempt at creating her version of a beef stew she’d been eyeing for years.

It might have a place in Jewish culinary history, but this version did not deserve a place on Shayna’s regular menu. It was, to put it mildly, horrible.

“I don’t understand,” Shayna said. “I followed the instructions, used the perfect cuts of meat…and yet.”

Thankfully, as everybody was discussing how to pronounce the name of this dish, Leah got up and left the room, grabbing the bag she’d left just outside Shayna’s study.

Wine. Glasses. And the painting, perfectly propped up against a bookcase, still wrapped.

She stepped back and looked at her handiwork.

Perfect.

It had to be.

Of course, there wasn’t even a knock, but the slight creaking of door hinges.

“What…”

“So,” Judith said, looking around. “What’s going on?”

“This is private,” Leah said. “Can you…”

“Go back to the rest of the family?” Judith shook her head.

Getting her sister out was going to be impossible.

“In fact,” Judith continued as she barged her way into the room, “I’m wondering why you’re creating what looks like a presentation area or, specifically an art gallery in Shayna’s office?”

Answering the question without creating havoc meant giving more information than she actually wanted to. But Leah knew that she’d never hear the end of it if tonight happened, when Samuel showed up, if she didn’t brief her sister in advance.

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