Faye Kellerman: Street Dreams

My father laughed. “Sammy was born politically incorrect, God bless him.”

Rina came into the living room. “I thought I heard voices.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “Dressed like that, I’m assuming you’re staying?”

“If it’s okay with you.”

“Of course.” She kissed my cheek. “ Shabbat Shalom. ”

Without a word, Koby showed her my finger. My stepmother’s eyes lit up. “Oh my goodness, it’s beautiful! ” She hugged me hard. “Did you tell your mother?”

“Yes, she was the first one we told.”

“Perfect!” Rina hugged Koby and kissed his cheek. “ Mazel tov, mazel tov! This is so incredibly exciting!”

“All this and a gold shield, too,” I said.

“Oh, that’s right! We definitely need champagne!”

Koby lifted the bottle.

Rina said, “I’ll go chill it.” Her face was suffused with pure happiness, unlike the happy but wistful expression that my father wore. “Have you set a date?”

“We were just talking about this,” I said. “I asked Dad if you could put up Koby’s parents because they’re-”

“Of course!” Rina said. “We’ll put up anyone you want.”

“He has between thirty and sixty relatives, dear,” my father remarked.

“Okay. As soon as you set the date, let me know so I can call the caterer for Shabbat dinner and lunch on the day of the aufruf. ” She spoke to Koby. “You’ll have it in our shul, I take it. Unless you want to do it in your shul.”

“Your beit knesset is fine.”

Rina was beaming. “This is so exciting. I can’t wait to meet your family. And don’t worry, Koby. We’ll put them all up. It’s not a problem.”

My dad was massaging a wrinkled forehead. Koby put his arm around his shoulder. “Now you see why I left.”

Sammy came back in and kissed his mother. “Eema, Eema, you’ve gained a son and I’ve gained a forward!” He scrutinized Koby’s face. “I guess you can call her Eema although she’s only what, ten years older than you?”

“No, she’s ten years older than I am,” I said. “She’s only six-”

“Can we move on?” Dad interjected.

“It’s irrelevant because mother is a state of mind,” Rina pronounced. “Besides, Cindy’s mother would be eema. ”

“No, my mother will be mom, ” I told her. “Definitely not eema. ”

“My stepmother is Eema,” Koby said. “To me, you are Rina because that’s what Cindy calls you. Besides, Rina fits your face.”

“Whatever you want, Yaakov.”

He focused his eyes on Daddy’s face. “My question is… what do I call you, sir?”

“What do you call me?”

“Yes.”

Decker rubbed his hands and thought a moment. “Lieutenant is fine.”

“Peter!” Rina chastised.

“It’s my title.”

“Maybe a little less formal, Daddy?”

“No problem.” He threw his arm around my fiancé’s shoulder. “Koby, my man… you can call me Loo.”

FAYE KELLERMAN introduced L.A. cop Peter Decker and his wife, Rina Lazarus, to the mystery world eleven years ago. Since that time she has written nine Peter Decker/Rina Lazarus novels as well as a historical novel, The Quality of Mercy. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband, author Jonathan Kellerman. There are close to three million copies of her books in print.