"Paul Levinson - Loose Ends (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Levinson Paul)

looked great -- like her best picture, from someone named Sol's
bar-mitzvah, come to life.
Sarah was smiling, a wonderful smile he had seen in his
father and some of his aunts and uncles and his grandfather.
"You look like I know you," she said. "You're one of Louie's
grandsons?"
"Right, Louie," Jeff answered quickly. His mind sped
through family history. Louie was Sarah's older brother. The
two had come with a middle brother -- Hymie -- to New York
around 1900. Sarah was a little girl then, about 5, and Louie
was like a father to her. Her real father and nine other
brothers and sisters she would never see again. Louie -- Uncle
Louie, Jeff's grandfather had always called him -- had moved to
the West Coast after World War II. He had fathered a big family
himself, and Jeff recalled that these in turn had given Louie
dozens of grandchildren who from time to time showed up at
weddings and bar mitzvahs on the East Coast. Good. Jeff for
now would be one of them.
Sarah took off her apron and moved out from behind the
counter. "I'm taking the rest of the afternoon off," she said to
the matrons. "You tell Murray I'll make up the time this
weekend, ok?"
"No, no, please, Mrs. Harris," Jeff raised his hand and
smiled. He didn't think he could take more than a few minutes
with his great-great-grandmother in this first meeting. "I've
got just a little over an hour before an appointment downtown,
and I don't want you to lose time from your job. How about we
go for a cup of tea at the Dairy Restaurant by Lydig Avenue.
It's Kosher, right?" He had checked out this whole neighborhood
a week ago.
Sarah laughed heartily. "It seems you know me and this
area very well. OK, let's go to Lydig. Tell Murray I'm back in
an hour," she said over her shoulder to the counter.
"So it seems you know my name but I don't know yours,"
Sarah said as the two walked the half a block around the corner
to Lydig Avenue.
"I'm Jeff. Jeffrey Rosenberg." Jeff was 99% positive that
Rosenberg was Sarah's maiden name.
Sarah's eyes widened in pleasure. "Yosef was the name of
my father. Wonderful of Shlomo to name you after him. We have
only one son, and we named him after my husband's -- Yitzhak's
-- mother. So you're Shlomo's boy, then?" Now Sarah's eyes
furrowed in some confusion. "Or are you Harry's?"
Jeff smiled and thought frantically as they entered the
restaurant. He ushered Sarah to a table, and once seated,
ordered two cups of tea -- with lemon for Sarah, milk for him --
from the elderly waiter who looked like he had about five
minutes left to live.
He knew that Sarah prided herself on perfect recall of
every relationship in her extended family. Right now she was