A Life Worth Living (14 page)

The next day, Hillel woke up early to go to shul, leaving Gaby snoozing in his bed. “You want coffee or something from the dining room?” Hillel asked.

“I’m fine. I want to stay here for a little bit longer. I’ll get something from my room soon.”

“Okay.” He closed the door gently and Gaby fell back asleep.

She woke up when Hillel returned. He left the door open, leaving the bright sun streaming in. Gaby snuggled deeper under the blanket, closing her eyes against the blue of the sky and the sharp green of the grass.

Hillel sat down next to her on the bed and rubbed her shoulder. “You’re coming to lunch?”

“Do I have to?”

“You don’t have to, but people will talk if we don’t show up.”

“Uch, fine.” Gaby pushed herself up, rubbing her eyes. She leaned against Hillel and rested her head for a minute against his shoulder. He held her that way, massaging her back, until she was ready to get up and slip on the knee-length black dress she had worn last night. She looked down at herself and told Hillel, “I have to go back to my room to change. Everyone will know I slept here last night if I show up in the same dress I wore to dinner.”

Hillel nodded his agreement and Gaby held onto his arm, unable to fully wake up. Once she was outside, walking back through the winding paths to her house, the brisk air invigorated her and she took deep gulps of air, feeling the freshness fill her lungs.

“The weather here is like California,” Hillel said.

“I’ve never been to
California, but the weather here is one thing I love. It’s so weird how Israel has such fluctuating temperatures. In Shiloh, it was pretty cold before I left.”

“It was cold in
Jerusalem without you.”

“Baby, that’s so sweet of you to say,” Gaby said, slipping an arm around Hillel’s waist. They walked like that into the house, where Shira and Devorah Leah were sitting around in their pajamas, drinking coffee.

“Hello, love birds!”

“Shut up,” Gaby said, unsuccessfully trying to hide her grin. “Is there any hot water left for me?”

“Yeah, in the
kumkum
.”

“Hillel, you want some coffee?” she offered sweetly, trying unsuccessfully not to flaunt her boyfriend in front of the two admiring girls.

“Should I make
kiddush
for us first?”

Gaby smiled. She liked the idea of a man making
kiddush
for her. “Yeah, let me just wash up first.” She pulled out a white t-shirt and black skirt and quickly changed in the bathroom. When she came out, Hillel was sitting on her bed, talking to the girls about their plans after they finished their service in
sherut leumi
.

“Do you have grape juice or something?” Hillel asked Gaby when he saw her.

“Grape juice… let’s see.” Gaby said and went to the kitchenette. Thank God he changed the subject. She had no idea what she wanted to do after the year was over. She searched around the fridge and cabinets. “I’m so sorry. We don’t. What about beer?”

“I don’t drink beer, but I guess it will do. You’ll help me finish it?”

“Sure,” the three girls answered in unison, and Hillel laughed.

He poured the beer into a coffee mug and then recited the short prayer by heart. The girls answered
amein
loudly, and Hillel took a tiny sip. “Gross. Here, have some.”

“Well, if you say it like that,” Gaby answered, but she drank a little from the cup and then grimaced. “Yuck. Beer first thing in the morning is not a good thing.” She passed it to Devorah Leah, who took a small sip, and then passed it to Shira, who finished the cup.

“I’m gonna make us some coffee,” Gaby said to Hillel. “How do you take it?”

“Half spoon sugar and a lot of milk.”

“No way! That’s the same way I take it,” Gaby exclaimed.

Hillel smiled broadly at Gaby. “That’s convenient.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Devorah Leah said.

“Yes it is,” Gaby insisted. “It’s unusual for two people to drink coffee the same way.”

“It’s not like having the same fingerprints,” Shira retorted.

“Really? How do you take your coffee?” Gaby asked as she emptied the last of the hot water urn into two coffee mugs and carefully measured out a spoonful of coffee and a half a spoonful of sugar.

“Like three times as much sugar as coffee,” Shira said.

“That’s disgusting. I like it with equal sugar to coffee, like civilized people drink,” Devorah Leah said.

“See,” Gaby said. “Of everyone in this room, only me and Hillel drink coffee the same way.” She topped the coffees with a generous serving of milk and gingerly brought the mugs into the bedroom area.

“It must be fate, then,” Shira said.

“Indeed, it must be,” Gaby said. She handed one mug to Hillel with a huge smile and sat down next to him.

Hillel winked at her and took a grateful sip. “Perfect.”

“Would you like cake with that?” Gaby asked, passing him the tin of cake that Shira and Devorah Leah had been nibbling with their fingers.

“Thanks, I’d love some.” He took a piece and offered it to Gaby. She took a bite from his hand and Hillel grinned.

“Ew, you two are making me nauseous. I’m going to the
chadar ochel
.” Shira pulled a skirt over her pajama pants and ran a brush lazily through her long blond hair. Devorah Leah tied a colorful wrap-around skirt around her waist. “Coming soon?” Shira asked to Gaby.

“Yeah, soon.”

The girls left to go the dining room and Gaby slid closer to Hillel, tucking her feet underneath his thighs. “Do we have to go to lunch?” she asked plaintively.

“It’s a good idea,” Hillel said.

“But you are leaving tonight, and I’m gonna miss you so much!”

“I know. But we still have this afternoon, and tonight we’ll do something fun before I go back, okay?”

“You’re such a good boy,” Gaby said.

“I’m not such a good boy. I just like doing the right thing.”

“You always do the right thing,” Gaby said. “Listen, I want to tell you something.”

Hillel looked at her expectantly.

“I love you, too,” she said, looking at him shyly from beneath her eyelashes.

Hillel beamed happily, and picked her up, putting her on his lap.

Gaby squealed and put her arms around his neck.

“You love me?” Hillel said.

“Yes, very much.”

They kissed and Hillel ran his hands down her back.

“I really want to stay here with you,” he whispered. “But we can’t.”

“I know,” she whispered back. People will talk, and then people will think things about her that might or might not be true. It was better not to give anyone the opportunity for some juicy gossip.

“Later,” he promised.

“Okay,” Gaby said, smiling. She gave him one more hug before they got up and went to lunch.

Lunch was pleasant enough with lots of singing, a speech from the kibbutz rabbi, and plenty of hot steaming cholent that Hillel enjoyed three servings of.

After lunch, they went for a walk around the kibbutz. Gaby showed him all the different projects and industries the kibbutz was involved in. Hillel was duly impressed and asked a lot of questions that Gaby was forced to admit she did not know the answers to.

When the tour was over, they ended up at the playground, hanging out with Shira and Devorah Leah. Some teenagers came soon after, bringing with them snacks and drinks that they were more than willing to share with the
b’not sherut
and Hillel.

Havdalah
was a communal affair, and after good wishes for a
shavua tov
were passed around, Gaby walked Hillel back to his room.

“What do you want to do tonight?” Hillel asked.

“There’s an art festival in Tzfat tonight. Shira’s dying to go. What do you think?”

“In Tzfat? That’s over an hour away.”

“I know, but it would be fun.” When Hillel didn’t look appeased, she added cheekily, making her eyes half-lidded, “I’ll wear something sexy.”

Hillel tried to suppress his grin. “It’s fine, I
t’s just that I still have to drive back to my base and get there by eight tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, so drive us there and we’ll find our own way back.”

“All right, but you better wear something really sexy.”

“Ohh, the bad boy is coming out in you,” Gaby said, and laughing, jumped out of the way when Hillel tried to swat her butt.

“I’ll meet you in front after I take a shower and pack up,” Hillel said.

“So like twenty minutes?” Gaby asked.

“Ten minutes,” Hillel said.

“Okay,” Gaby said. She ran back to her apartment and told the girls the good news.

The girls shrieked with excitement and then rushed to get dressed. Gaby took a twenty second shower, and still dripping wet, went to the main room to find something cute to wear. She pulled on a tight jean skirt and pink top, layering it with a woolen gray vest. As she got dressed, she silently thanked Serena yet again. What would she do without all her cast-offs?

Shira, not one to waste time getting dressed, took Devorah Leah’s wrap-around skirt and pulled on a chunky black sweatshirt over a black t-shirt.

“That’s so Tzfats-out,” Gaby said, looking at Shira through the mirror while she put on eye makeup.

“Tzfats-out,” Devorah Leah snickered, putting on her tightest jeans and a skimpy top.

“Call me names if you want, but at least I know that it’s cold in Tzfat,” Shira reminded, looking at Devorah Leah’s outfit.

“I’ll find someone to warm me up,” she smirked.

“Take a sweatshirt just in case,” Shira advised.

“What? Are you my mother now?” Devorah Leah said, irritated.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

Gaby took the sweatshirt from Shira and said, “Come on, let’s go. Hillel is waiting.”

The girls skipped arm in arm to the front of the kibbutz, talking loudly about what they want to do once they get to Tzfat, and jumped into Hillel’s little white car when he pulled up in front of them.

About fifteen minutes into the drive, Hillel pulled into a gas station to fill up. Shira, announcing that she was starving, pulled the girls inside with her to check out what the mini-mart had in stock. While Shira and Devorah Leah haggled with the young Israeli boy manning the counter over the prices of ice cream, Gaby checked out the selection of CDs.

Devorah Leah, licking her ice cream pop, came to look over her shoulder.

“The only good one here is Idan Raichel,” she said.

“Who? Rachel?” Gaby asked, confused, looking at the cover image of an Ethiopian with a full head of dreadlocks, who was clearly male.

“What?” Devorah Leah asked in an unnecessarily loud voice. “You never heard of Idan Raichel?”

“Excuse me,” Gaby said, brushing her off but slightly embarrassed. She never seemed to know anything cool.

“Please, allow me,” Devorah Leah said, taking the CD from her hand. She paid for the CD and the girls went back to the car where Hillel had finished pumping his gas and was waiting patiently by the entrance.

“You’re gonna love this,” Devorah Leah promised as she passed the CD to Hillel to play.

By the time they reached Tzfat, Idan Raichel’s CD had played three times and even Gaby was able to sing along.

“He’s really good, right?” Devorah Leah said.

“Yeah, he’s great,” Gaby said.

Hillel parked the car in a parking lot, and the four of them walked to the festival. Tzfat, an ancient city of cobble-stone streets and mystics, was filled with throngs of people. The art festival brought out all the residents and then some. There was an outdoor market, with vendors selling artisanal foodstuffs and hand-crafted jewelry. Colorful lights and twinkly jangling beads were hung from stonewashed walls. The doorways and window frames of many of the buildings were painted a light blue to remind passersbys of heaven.

Gaby held tightly to Hillel’s hand as they walked around, listening to the flurry of languages spoken around them. Devorah Leah walked next to them, afraid of getting separated in the crowds of people, while Shira danced around, checking out every stall.

“Hey, come check this out!” Shira yelled out excitedly, picking up a portrait. “Look, it’s the artist!” She pointed to the man sitting in the stall, who nodded in acknowledgment. “Amazing,” she said, shaking her head in wonder. “An exact replica.”

Shira flitted to the next stand, where glass figurines in bright, shimmering colors sat on display. “How cool is this? It says here that everything was made by hand.”

The owner, a hippy-looking older woman, got into a deep discussion in Hebrew with Shira about the process of making hand-blown glass designs, while Gaby looked over the collection. There were the traditional vases and bowls, a beautiful white and silver glass candelabra, and kitschy designs of pumpkins, menorahs, snowmen, and a smiling sun.