All I Love and Know by Judith Frank Read Free Book Online Page A

something.”
    When Gal had gone, Lydia opened her suitcase, releasing a waft of her scent, and began rummaging through the neat piles of knit clothing. “Those religious fanatics are insisting Joel and Ilana be buried tonight,” she hissed at Matt. “The funeral is in two hours.”
    â€œYou’re kidding,” Matt said.
    â€œNo, I’m not,” she said, her face livid. “According to Jewish law you’re supposed to bury the bodies as soon as possible, and they’ve already held them so we could get here to identify Joel.”
    â€œWow,” Matt said.
    He rose and went in search of Daniel, bumping into Ilana’s father in the narrow hallway. Yaakov looked at him, bewildered.
    â€œShalom,” Matt said.
    â€œShalom.”
    â€œI’m Matt, I’m Daniel’s friend,” Matt said, and stuck out his hand, which Yaakov gripped. Yaakov had a strong, broad face, lined from years in the sun. He was wearing a white oxford shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His belly strained over his belt. “I’m very sorry about Ilana,” Matt said. “I knew her, and she was a wonderful person.”
    Yaakov nodded with moist, puzzled eyes.
    Daniel was in the shower. Matt went up to the bathroom door and hovered there for a moment, then gently tried the handle. The door was unlocked, and after a quick look around, he stepped into the tiny, steamy room, and locked the door behind him. “Hey, baby, it’s me,” he said, unbuttoning the top two buttons under his open collar and peeling his shirt off over his head. “Can I come in?”
    Daniel stuck his wet head out from behind the curtain. He was virtually blind without his glasses, but managed to cast a disapproving look in Matt’s general direction. “I don’t feel comfortable cavorting naked with you when my in-laws are out there,” he said.
    Matt looked at him. “ Cavorting? Honey, believe me, the last thing on my mind is a cavort.”
    Daniel turned off the water and stepped out, and Matt handed him a towel.
    â€œAnd I’m worried my parents won’t have enough hot water. The boiler’s on, but hot water isn’t unlimited here.”
    Matt looked at his foul-smelling shirt. “I’m putting this back on,” he said.
    Daniel looked nervously at the door and bit his lip.
    â€œShit,” Matt said. He threw the shirt angrily onto the pile of Daniel’s soiled clothes and slipped out the door, walking shirtless through the apartment to their room. There was food out on the kitchen table—sliced bread, cold cuts, hummus, olives—and an argument under way between Lydia and her in-laws about whether the baby should be taken to the funeral. It was conducted in English without the benefit of Daniel’s mediation, so it was occurring in its crudest form. Lydia was struggling to express the idea that when Noam grew up, he’d regret not being at his parents’ funeral. Sam was leaning against a counter, ripping out huge bites of a sandwich, his eyes darting anxiously back and forth, his Adam’s apple convulsing as he swallowed.
    Matt went into their room, a tiny guest room/office off the kitchen with a sliding door that rumbled when rolled open and shut. He perched on the bed and folded his hands. Maybe he would never get to shower; maybe it was his destiny to reek of death from now on. He sat there for a while, hearing outside the door the noises of raised voices straining to remain polite, staring at his hands till they blurred, trying to recall himself to his life but unable to imagine the details of his friends and his work and the house he lived in. Where had he felt this before, his stomach yawning into an abyss of despair, feeling so implacably plunged into another’s dark reality? The closest he’d come was family holidays when he was a child, when he had to dress in a shirt and tie and be ostracized by his cousins