Beginning of September
"I can't believe you did that!" Dr. Michelle Futterman was ready to throttle Dr. Blair Sandburg. They were both emerging from the planning meeting for a communal "Break the Fast" for the Jewish students at the university following Ne' eelah, the final service for Yom Kippur. And since tickets for services at the synagogues were at an all time high even for members, people from the surrounding areas often attended the Hillel House services for High Holy days as well.
Blair looked at his colleague and friend innocently. "Hey, you're the one who volunteered us to bring blintzes."
Michelle stopped and put out a hand halting the new professor. "Yes, but you're the moron who told the committee that we'd make them from scratch."
"You always make them from scratch," Blair remarked, unfazed.
"Yeah, for six people or so. There are going to be two hundred or more people at this thing."
Blair flashed her one of his winning smiles. "Well, we have a month to make them."
They resumed walking as Michelle said, "Yeah, but who wants to eat a month old blintze."
Three days before Yom Kippur
Her arms laden with grocery bags Michelle kicked the door of number 307. Impatient, the bags growing heavy she went to kick again only to have the door open.
"'Bout time you got here," the eager-to-get- started anthropologist greeted her.
"I had to stop at the store... and will you please take one of these?" Michelle shifted a bag in his direction then let her arm come to help support the sack in her other arm as Blair relieved her of some of her burden. She used her hip to bump the door closed.
Both professors set their bags on the table. Michelle flexed her arms a bit and stretched them over her head. "Jim left early."
Blair laughed. "I think he didn't want to take a chance that we'd ask him to help. But he left you this." He handed Michelle a small vase containing a single pink carnation. Taped to the side was a folded note. She carefully removed the note and opened it.
Chelle,
Please try not to kill Sandburg today. He's the only guide I've got.
Love,
Jim
Michelle folded the note and shoved it into the pocket of her jeans. She sniffed her flower before setting it on the table and unpacking the grocery bags. "Does Jim have a crepe pan? I brought mine but I think it would go smoother if we had two."
Blair sighed, thinking. "Yeah, he does. But it's up on a top shelf of the cabinets. It's not like he uses it. I think it was probably Carolyn's." He was chattering as he opened the cabinet and tried to stretch and snag at the pan with barbecue tongs. When that failed he tried the leap and grab approach.
Michelle chuckled at the spectacle and moved to his side. Nudging him away slightly she said, "Here, let me."
"No offense," Blair began. "But you are one person that I am actually taller than and if I can't..."
His litany was cut off by Michelle placing her hands on the counter and effortlessly hoisting herself so she was kneeling on the counter.
Blair's eyes widened. "Just hope Jim doesn't see you up there."
Reaching into the cupboard and retrieving the elusive pan she said, "His vision isn't that good." She handed the pan to her colleague and jumped down from her perch.
The next hours were spent making crepes, filling, rolling and freezer wrapping the finished product. Along with the preparation was some good natured bantering. Mostly a lot of Blair asking, "Who's idea was this again?'
And the answer, "Yours. All yours."
Then Blair left Michelle to clean while he transported the blintzes to the university where they were being permitted to store them in one of the industrial freezers. They would be pulled and fried the day of the fast breaking.
Michelle was laying on the couch, eyes closed but awake when Jim came through the door. "Smells good in here." He moved to the couch and raised Michelle's feet. Sitting he placed her sock clad feet in his lap. "Where's Sandburg?" he asked suspiciously.
Not opening her eyes Michelle smirked. "I didn't kill him. And, no, he's not locked in the storage room."
Jim rubbed at her foot. "I wasn't implying.... but where is he?"
The prof sighed. "He took the blintzes to Rainier. We have to store them somewhere and the U is letting have part of a freezer."
Jim chuckled. "I thought that's why Blair wanted to do them from scratch. So you wouldn't be feeding people the frozen kind."
Michelle nodded. "Well, they won't keep any other way. He's right, though. They will taste a lot fresher." She peeled one eye. "You'll be able to taste the difference even if no one else can."
Reaching over and closing the eye that was giving him "a look" Jim agreed, "Yeah, freezer burn is not one of my favorite flavors." He trailed his hand down her face and her torso back to join the other in the slow massage he was providing to her ankles. "Hey, did Blair tell you I'm going to join you for..." He paused to think. "Yiz-kor".
"Cool. You'll get to hear my father chant the Haf- Torah portion."
"Your father."
"Yeah," she opened her eyes and sat. "I told you before.. My father was coming in to chant from the book of Prophets. And no changing your mind about coming."
Jim laughed. "I could always tell Simon to put me on special duty that day. No, I won't. I'll stick it out with you until the final blast of the Shofar."
Michelle stroked her fingers over his ear. "Just remember to dial it down."
Fast Breaking
"It's a good turnout," Jim complimented Michelle.
"Yeah, it is. But I didn't chair this one. Rabbi Black did."
"I don't think she likes me," Jim said absently as he shoveled honey cake into his mouth."
"Well, " Michelle began.
Jim interrupted, "All I said what that I thought she looked a little young to be a rabbi."
Michelle shook her head. "Not all rabbis are old with long beards."
"Agreed. But, hell, she's even way younger than you."
The prof raised her eyebrow.
"I'm going to wish Sandburg a Happy New Year," Jim said suddenly and shoved his plate into Michelle's hands.
"I thought you didn't eat that stuff," Elliott Fivel's voice came from behind.
Michelle turned. "Hey, Dad. No. This is Jim's. I'm just baby sitting it." She then took notice of her father's plate. He had a pile of the blintzes and was polishing them off in two bites each. "How many of those did you take."
"Six. But who's counting," he responded with his classic answer. "Did you and Blair make these?"
"Sure did. Took us about ten hours. Do you like them?"
"They're okay, " he told her after another bite. "I really prefer the frozen ones from *Golden."
Michelle laughed. "I guess if you liked these better you would have taken ten."
Blair Sandburg felt warm arms come around him from behind and hold firm, one forearm resting snugly against his chest, the hand clutching at his shoulder. The young man smiled as he heard the words L' Shana Tova in his ear and felt the press of Jim's lips to the side of his head.
The Next Morning
The picture in the religious section of the newspaper bore the caption: Cascade Police Detective James Ellison leaves High Holy Day Festivities with Professors Blair Sandburg and Michelle Futterman.
Disgusted William Ellison slammed the newspaper on his desk....
The End (for now)
*Golden oddly enough is the brand of frozen blintzes.
Also, the lines I have given to Michelle's father are lines that have come out of the mouth of my father.