Sammy asked, “Are you all right, Eema?”

Rina looked up. “I just wish you kids would act more respectful. What would your-” She shoveled mashed potatoes into her mouth, then abruptly got up and went into the kitchen.

Decker said, “She’s had a hard day.”

“Obviously.” Sammy looked at his dirty plate. “Why is she thinking about Abba? It’s not his yahrzeit.”

Decker blew out air. Why did he get all the fun jobs? “She went to a funeral of a friend of his.”

“A friend of Abba’s died?”

“No, no.” Decker shook his head. Talk about Freudian slips. “His father died. The friend’s name is Abram Sparks.”

Sammy thought a moment, shook his head. “Don’t remember him.”

“He’s a priest.”

“Oh…” Sammy sat up. “You must mean Bram. I remember Bram. He was a real nice guy.”

“Who was?” Rina said.

“Abba’s friend Bram.”

Rina glared at Decker. He said, “You want to be mad, be mad. I think he’s entitled to know what’s going on, okay.”

Rina barked, “Why don’t you just-…have some more pot roast.”

Decker stifled a smile. “Thank you, I think I will.”

Rina smiled and sat down. “Fine! So will I!”

“You two are so strange sometimes,” Sammy said. “I know, I know. Honoring your parents. Kibud av v’aim. I’ll work on it. So Bram’s father died. That’s too bad. Should I send him a card or something?”

Rina stared at her son as if he had uttered Greek. “That would be very nice, Shmueli. I think he’d like that very much.”

To Decker, Sammy said, “He went with us to Disneyland for my…sixth birthday?”

“What a memory you have,” Rina said.

“Yeah, it was the high point of that year.” Sammy’s voice cracked. “You know, I always meant to ask you this, Eema. I remember having a fit because you wouldn’t let me have a hot dog.”

“Yes, I remember that well.”

“I mean, I really had a fit.”

“Yes, you had a very big one.”

“Then…like a couple hours later…after I forgot all about it…you got me and Yonkie…like a dozen hot dogs. Where’d they come from?”

Rina’s eyes turned soft. “Bram went back into town and got them at the kosher deli.”

Sammy said, “He went from Anaheim to L.A., then back again to Anaheim just for hot dogs? That’s like an hour-and-a-half trip.”

“Closer to two and a half hours with traffic,” Rina said. “It was your birthday. He wanted you to be happy. If he had told me his plan, I would have said no. But he didn’t tell me. Just took the car and said he’d be back later.”

She smiled.

“I was furious with him for disappearing. I was left alone for over two hours with two very cranky boys. Demanding this and whining about that-”

“We weren’t that bad,” Sammy said.

“It wasn’t your fault. I was cranky, too. By that time, I was so exhausted, I just wanted to go home. Lunch had been long eaten and we were all starving. Bram was nowhere in sight. Then all of a sudden…”

Rina let out a small laugh.

“I see this guy walking toward us, wearing a cassock.”

She laughed again.

“You’re not allowed to bring food into Disneyland. Bram had changed into a cassock so he could conceal the hot dogs under his skirt. He figured no one would stop and frisk a priest. Even though he had grown an enormous stomach and was reeking of garlic.”

“That’s right…” Sammy squinted, trying to recall the image. “That’s right. He was wearing normal clothes when we started out.”

“I was ready to kill him,” Rina said. “But the sight of him walking toward us with this pregnant belly was so comical. He brought me into a corner, pulled out the hot dogs…like he was selling me drugs.” She paused. “I almost forgot to wash, that’s how hungry we all were. We ate and ate and ate and ate. Plus, we got real A-one treatment after that. The ride lines parted for us like the Red Sea. The boys were thrilled.”

Decker said, “Respect for the clergy.”

“Now I know why people impersonate police officers or priests. One woman there…” Rina laughed again. “She pulled Bram aside, told him she needed to make an on-the-spot confession. Nothing could dissuade her. Since Bram hadn’t taken his orders, he wasn’t allowed to hear confession. He didn’t know what to do.”

“What’d he do?” Sammy asked.

“I told him to hear her confession,” Rina said. “Then he should confess the sin later on at his own confession. He thought that was a good solution. Ah well…” Rina began clearing the table.

Sammy said, “It was a fun day…you bought us Mickey Mouse pajamas.”

“I’m impressed, Shmueli! Yes, I bought you Mickey Mouse pajamas. We stayed until the park closed. I hadn’t anticipated being there that late. Had to get you into something you could fall asleep in.”

“Yeah, it was fun.” Sammy got up from the table. Kissed his parents. “Thank you, Eema, for dinner. I’ve got homework. Can I be excused?”

Rina nodded, kissed him back. “You’re a good boy, Shmuel. I’m sorry I jumped on you.”

“S’right.” Sammy kissed her cheek, then left the table.

Decker took Rina’s arm. “Sit, honey. I’ll clear later.”

“You want any more food?”

“Goyishe food?”

“Peter, I’m sorry.”

He smiled, spooned mashed potatoes onto his plate. “Next thing I know you’ll be making creamed chicken on toast points and lime Jell-O.”

Rina scrunched her nose. “You really didn’t eat things like that, did you?”

“Every church social had creamed chicken and lime Jell-O. I half-expected to see that kind of food at the Sparkses’ house. Being there, even under those circumstances, reminded me of home.”

Rina paused. “Do you ever miss it?”

“Miss creamed chicken and lime Jell-O?”

“No, Decker. Miss what you left behind.”

“I was very alienated from my church by the time you met me. Don’t forget, you weren’t my first Jewish wife.”

“Why were you so alienated?”

“I don’t know…independent spirit. Maybe I just didn’t like the attitude: that man was born a sinner. I could never accept the dogma that newborn babies were sinners. Then, after I found out about my Jewish roots, I became even more estranged. I find the Jewish concept much more livable despite the restrictions. That man was put here, not just to worship God in order to be saved but to do good deeds. It subscribes to the philosophy that man is basically good. Which is what I believe.”

“After everything you’ve seen, that’s quite an endorsement of mankind.”

“I’ve seen the worst. But I’ve also seen the best.” Decker smiled at his wife. “It was nice that you talked to Sammy about Disneyland. His memories are very important.”

Rina nodded.

“Sounds like you had a good time.”

“Relatively speaking,” Rina said. “We stayed until the park closed, watching the electric light parade at midnight. I remember thinking how wonderful it was…how normal I felt.”

She hesitated, her eyes watching a distant videotape. She returned her focus to the present.

“Normal in a relative sense. Because there I was, a frum woman with two little boys wearing kipot and tzitzit, standing next to a priest in full religious regalia. Meanwhile, I had a husband dying at home. Rav Schulman had agreed to care for Yitzchak so I could take Sammy to Disneyland for his birthday. He actually asked Bram to go with me because he didn’t think I should be alone. You can imagine how bad off I was if Rav Schulman sent a goy to be my shomer-my guard.”

Decker said, “Can I ask you how he and Yitzchak became friends?”

Rina stared at her half-eaten dinner. “Bram was writing a book-interpreting the Chumash in a very Catholic way-which is what they do.”

“The gentiles. Or should I say goyim?”

“Goy is not a bad word, Peter. It means nation. It’s used with Jews as well.”

“It’s just the way the Jews say it when they refer to gentiles. He’s such a goy-”

“You’re teasing me. You’re only hurting yourself,” Rina chided. “You shouldn’t be interrupting me if you want to pump me.”