Sam got back to the apartment and let Toby out of the bathroom. The kitten zoomed out of the room, and jumped into the cardboard box Sam had deliberately left in the center of the living room.

Toby was adorable but predictable, Sam noted as he lifted the kitten out of the box, rubbing the space behind his ears and his belly as Toby stretched, purring like an engine.

Once he started to squirm, Sam put Toby on the floor to let him run around the living room a little bit. He got on the couch and called his cousin.

“H’lo?”

“What’s up?”

Adam sounded happy, if not tired. “Hey. Just got on the train upstate. Late week at work, couldn’t wait, so I got out early and ran to Penn.”

“How much time do you have?”

“Bout ‘n hour and a half. Tam’s picking me up at the Albany station. So?”

Yep. Having a girlfriend apparently agreed with Adam and Sam could not be happier for him. “Your place is treating me well and my kitten hasn’t destroyed everything in sight, so…I call it a win.”

Adam snickered on the other end. “Glad to hear. And if he does, that’s your security deposit, not mine.”

Now it was his turn to laugh. “Fine. Fine. So. Question.”

“Yeah?”

He wasn’t looking forward to having this conversation, but he had no choice at this point. “Did you have a Saturday service you liked?”

The pause that followed extended, and Sam wondered whether his cousin had dropped the phone, or if he had lost reception.

“You want to go to services?”

After he’d finished making the first Shadow Squad movie, six years ago, he’d had a feeling of longing, a clear hole in his gut. He’d spent an extended period focusing on a character who drew power to protect his community. Yet he didn’t feel connected the community at all. So he’d gone to a Friday night service for the first time since his Bar Mitzvah. Since then, his semi regular service attendance had become necessary, like breathing. So yes. He wanted to go to services. But what he said to his cousin was: “Yeah. I’m in the mood. I need…”

“You need a temple fix?”

Adam’s phrasing was enough to make him laugh. “I guess? Dude, seriously…”

Sam burst out laughing, as apparently did his cousin.

“Dude,” Adam continued. “I’m not harshing on your self-care. I totally get it. You want to know which one I went to?”

“Yes. Please. That would be awesome.”

“If the Sixth and I synagogue has a service tomorrow morning, you need to go. My best friend loved that service, and I dug it too. Right up your alley.”

“Sounds good,” Sam noted as he grabbed a pad out of his messenger bag and wrote down the name. “So I go from temple to hockey. Works for me.”

“What time’s the game tomorrow?”

Sam shifted. “We’ve got two, I think…but you’re still sending the Hockey for Hope emails. Why are you asking me?”

Now it was Adam’s turn to laugh incredulously. “I’m on the train to upstate new York. Like I know the exact time for tomorrow’s games offhand. ”

“You still send the emails.”

“That’s only because Sophie is refusing to send them. She’s organizing everything on site, unless she gets yanked back to work because of an emergency.”

Sophie Katz, it seemed, had her hands full. She was officially a DC based reporter for the Manhattan Times-Ledger’s International desk, though her main byline seemed to be associated with the revelations contained in what was presented as President Crosby’s infamous blackmail notebook. Rumors had her up for a prime slot on LBS. No wonder why she wanted nothing to do with a mailing list. “From what I hear, you’re lucky she’s helping you at all.”

“Which is true. I am completely in debt to her, even though I…” Adam paused, and Sam wondered why. Adam did have his secrets, and Sam didn’t begrudge his cousin any of them. “Anyway, enjoy your night and enjoy tomorrow. Let me know if you’ve got questions, eh?”

“Absolutely,” he replied just as Toby began to climb up the couch, settling onto his stomach. “Will do. You, too.”

As he ended the call, Sam found himself looking forward to Saturday and all of its wonders.

Pajamas, a glass of wine, bowl of ice cream and a silly, sweet romantic movie were on Deborah’s agenda for that Friday night. She’d had a wild week, and as she settled down under the blanket, her phone rang. As she stared at the call display, she wondered why she hadn’t put it on ‘do not disturb’. Of course, only her sister would call at eight thirty on a Friday night.

“Hello?”

“So what are you up to tonight?” Lisa said without preamble. “And tomorrow?”

Deb loved her sister and her sister in law, but she was peopled out. “Pajamas and a movie, then probably services at the Sixth and I synagogue tomorrow morning.”

“Why?”

Why did she suddenly want to go to services? Many reasons. First, Deb was worried about what living in President Crosby’s world would mean for her sister and her wife. President Crosby was her best friend’s father and she knew personally what a horrible person he was. His awful personality attracted even worse people, and the administration he’d put together was meant to serve his awful ends and reflect his racist, anti-Semetic and homophobic views. Second, as a Jewish woman she needed to be around other Jews every once in a while. It also felt good to pray.

Bottom line, here were so many different reasons to go to temple, and so many reasons to stay away. She did not say any of that to her sister. All she said was, “Because I feel like it. It’s been a while and I…”

“You’re going to see him.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Sam. You should see Sam.”

Lisa had always equated happiness with being in a relationship; even more so since she’d found Liz and a marriage of her own. As of late, she’d decided to emulate the matchmaking mamas and bubbies of stage, screen and other people’s realities. If there were even a hint that she was having a conversation with a guy, Lisa would have her under a chuppah.

“I’m going to services,” she finally said. “If Sam decides to go and even if he ends up at the service I’m going to that’s great, but it’s not important. Because I’m going for me. I need to go to a service that takes place in a temple that doesn’t house my school.”

“You also need to see the guy,” Lisa continued undeterred. “Sam.”

So they’d gone from the over excitement about his being there, to matchmaking and work. Something must have happened “Have you decided what you want him to do?”

There was a long pause. “We got the letter from the Maccabee Festival.”

The festival was to be a Jewish celebration of resistance, highlighting contributions made by Jews and non-Jews alike to fight against tyranny, both in the past and in modern times. It was going to take place during Chanukah. The team had planned for the festival to be a celebration for the small movie, since they’d already had a premiere.

Unfortunately, from the tone of her sister’s voice, she could tell the festival’s email had contained a rejection. “I’m sorry.”

“They didn’t say no, but they did say there were things they wanted us to do to change it enough? You know? We just weren’t sure if we could. But Sam? He’s totally willing to help us with the checklist and we figured out a game plan this morning.”

“That’s amazing. He seemed excited about the movie.”

Deb could tell when her sister seemed to relax just a small bit. “I’m glad. It feels like it was meant to be for a lot of reasons.”

She smiled and looked down at her melted bowl of ice cream and smiled. “I’m so, so proud of you, Lisa. Seriously. No matter what happens with whatever changes you decide to make, you need to remember that you made an amazing movie about all of these resistance movements. ”

“And you, my dear sister, are educating the next generation of resistance fighters. Or hopefully citizens who won’t need to resist, but who will be educated enough to go ahead and vote for the right people.”

She smiled. Her sister was brilliant. “Thank you, Lisa.”

“Anyway, you sound tired. Go to sleep and you’ll deal with the nonsense in the morning. Which one?”

Deb had almost forgotten that she’d started the conversation by telling her sister that she was going to synagogue. “Sixth and I probably.”

“Good. Go. Let someone in for once. Love you. I may see you there.”

Lisa’s sudden interest in attending temple smelled too much of meddling and matchmaking for Deb’s liking. But here, in her comfortable, cozy, solitary apartment, she wasn’t going to question her sister’s motives. Instead, she smiled. “Good. Love you, too.”

As her sister hung up the phone, Deb lay against the couch, restarted the movie, turned back to her melted ice cream, and wondered if it were possible to salvage it.