“I regret my actions.” Leah dropped her spoon and took a long swallow of wine.
Renee hummed thoughtfully. “What exactly is covered in a modern intimacy seminar?”
“Ooh, good question, Mom.” Leah could not have looked more pleased that Ethan was taking the brunt of the uncomfortable dinner conversation. He made a mental note to ask about her ex-boyfriend at the first opportunity.
Ethan helped himself to green beans. “The syllabus Naomi has come up with is built around seven relationship milestones.” She’d emailed him a draft earlier in the week. “It starts with how to find someone you want to date, then introduces a first-date framework to help you decide if you actually like that person.”
“Ooh, that sounds super useful.” Leah pointed her fork at him. “I can never tell if I’m only dating someone because I’m bored.”
“That’s a thing?” His mother frowned into her glass.
“Definitely a thing,” Leah confirmed.
“As I was saying,” Ethan continued. “After the first-date module, there’s one about communication practices. Then I think it’s integrating a new person into your life?” He took a bite of salad and chewed thoughtfully. “That’s like introducing them to your friends and that kind of thing.”
“Oh. That should be fun for you,” his mother said. “All your friends are octogenarians.”
“Not all of my friends.” Ethan considered. “Just most of the people I spend time with.” To be fair, there were younger people in the intersynagogue softball league he played in. Though not really on his team.
Leah cracked pepper over her vegetables. “What happens after you introduce the women you’re dating to your silver-haired pals?”
“The curriculum isn’t built for me.” Ethan gave her a warning look. “It’s built for... eligible people.”
“Who says you aren’t eligible?” his mother said sharply.
He mouthedChange the subjectat Leah.
She tilted her head and pretended she couldn’t understand him.
They both thought it was so simple. That he could just meet someone he liked and date like anyone else. But tonight was a perfect example of how uncomfortable it was to have people he cared about go through the motions of religion for his sake. He didn’t want to put any of his romantic prospects in that position.
As for dating someone who wasn’t a practicing Jew, was he really ready to test the limits of his faith before he’d firmly secured the synagogue’s foundation?
“No, Mom. No one said that, I simply mean...”
“Ethan’s afraid of dating,” Leah announced. “He’s worried no one will ever understand him now that he’s a rabbi.”
It was a shame that he was going to have to shun his sister so soon after she’d come back from filming.
“The next module,” he declared before his mother could dig into that proclamation, “covers initiating physical intimacy—or the lack of it, I suppose, depending on your and your partner’s preferences.”
“That sounds very healthy,” his mother said, suitably distracted by allusions to procreation. “I’m sure Ms. Grant will provide valuable perspective given her work.”
Ethan nodded, trying not to think too hard about Naomi’s professional history because he was certain, though he hadn’t personally verified, she’d been naked for at least parts of it.
“What comes after the sex session?”
Leave it to Leah to cut to the chase.
“That’s where things get really interesting, in my opinion.”
Leah smirked. “Youwouldthink the parts after sex were the fascinating bits.”
Ethan made a mental note to refuse to let her borrow his car when she inevitably came asking.
“Module six is about opening up about your past and discussing your future together.”
“There’s some lovely symmetry there.” His mother nodded happily. Apparently sibling bickering did nothing to dampen her enjoyment of an evening of family time. Either that or she’d had more wine than he’d realized. “More kugel?”