Those Eyes

“Rebecca, would you like to join the others in a card game?”

Her gaze shifted from the blue sky through the window to the lady standing over her waiting for an answer. Card game? What was she talking about? 

“Rebecca? Hmmm, what do you think? Want to play some rummy?”

“No.” She returned her gaze to the bluest of skies letting the voice float away. It was the perfect color, reminding her of that day so long ago. Where was she? Leaning back, legs outstretched holding onto those chains she saw that same blue sky, heard the laughter, felt the joy. She tried to put herself back in the scene to get a clue as to where she had been, but the memory flickered like a candle, burning out too soon.

She turned her attention back to the room, heard the cackling of ladies playing cards nearby. It would have been nice to be included, she thought. She preferred her own company, but her feelings were slightly hurt at being left out.

The man with the kind face crossed the room wearing the usual white jacket. “How are we today, Rebecca?” He sat down next to her. She looked around to see who else was there to prompt him to say ‘we’ instead of a simple ‘How are you?’ 

“I am fine,” she emphasized the word ‘I’ to show that he was addressing her alone. She looked to see if he caught the nuance and noticed for the first time those eyes. Those dark eyes, chocolate brown, warm and inviting. She had seen those eyes before. 

“Glad to hear it. Would you like some lunch? We have your favorites today.”

How does this stranger know her favorites? This man with those eyes belonging to someone else from far away.

“Can I have a cup of coffee?” She surprised not only the aide but herself as well with the request.  It was definitely not on her most recent list of approved beverages.

“A coffee? Let me see what I can do.” He winked, squeezed her shoulder gently and disappeared.

***

“Yes, I would like a cup of coffee please,” she repeated, smiling at the waiter amidst the giggling of the young women at the table. She ran her fingers over her long hair hoping it wasn’t too out of control. The hotel shampoo and low water pressure in the shower weren’t exactly what she was used to in Brooklyn to tame her curls.

He leaned over to fill her coffee cup as her heart rattled about. She had read enough corny romance novels to know the tired expression ‘my heart skipped a beat’ and had always scoffed at that as nonsense. It wasn’t until that very moment that she acknowledged it to be fact. Yes, a heart can skip a beat, or in her case, rattle about in her chest.

“Are you enjoying your stay in Tel Aviv?” He inquired politely, obviously well trained by the hospitality staff.

She smiled at him, knowing she was being flirtatious with that smile, knowing that her mother was sitting next to her, and the entire tour group was seated at their table. Nevertheless, she smiled, locking eyes with him, and waiting just a bit enjoying their connection. “Yes,” she finally responded. “Very much so.”

One of the giggling girls at the end of the table held up her coffee cup shouting “I would like a refill.”

They looked at each other, instantly understanding their situation as he moved to quiet the guest.

She hardly tasted the fruit or the eggs, so invested was she in the instant connection she felt with this stranger. Her mother poked her in the ribs and whispered, “Be careful.”  The warning only prompted her to rise from the table and return to the buffet. She wasn’t hungry but he was there.

“What do you recommend?” She approached him boldly.

“For breakfast?” Those eyes. He looked at her with those eyes.

“No, for sightseeing in Tel Aviv. Anything special that is a must do?”

***

“Here’s your coffee, Rebecca. I snuck it out of the kitchen for you. Enjoy it, sweetie.” 

She blinked. “Rummy!” The giggling lady screamed with delight. She looked down at the half filled cup of coffee placed in front of her while the orderly pushed her wheelchair closer to the table. What was happening? She had been somewhere else just an instant ago, come back, come back. She searched her mind round and round looking in all the corners but couldn’t bring it to the surface.

Taking a sip of the lukewarm coffee she smiled. “Thank you, Ben.” 

“Rebecca. You remembered my name. I’m honored!” He beamed at her, those dark eyes twinkling.

***

“My name? It’s Rebecca. Are you going to remember that?” 

“Rebecca from the Big Apple. The girl who likes her coffee strong and her eggs scrambled.” 

“That’s me. And your name?” 

***

What was his name? She knew it, thought it countless times, looked at that scrap of paper obsessively after dialing his number from her room at the Kibbutz. Her mind’s eye saw the wrinkled paper but couldn’t bring it into focus. 

“Ben can you bring me home please?” She had the paper in her photo album tucked behind the one snapshot she had of him. She would feel better when she saw it again.

“You are home, honey. Is there anything I can get you from your room?”

“Yes, please. My photo album. The one from my trip to Israel.”

“Oh honey. We weren’t able to find that one. Did you ask your daughter if she has it?”

My daughter? He must mean my mother, she was on that trip, their special mother-daughter trip. She didn’t want to make Ben feel awkward about his confusion so let it go, looking once again out the window. Why would he possibly think she had a daughter? She was just a young girl herself.

***

Leaning back, she grasped the chains, hearing the rhythmic squeaking, feeling the wind blow through her long curly hair.

“Do you think he’ll call me back?”

Her mother sat on the swing next to her looking pensive. “Becky. You know he’s not Jewish, right?”

“So?”

“Please don’t get your hopes up. I don’t want to see you disappointed.”

“I don’t care what his religion is.”

“But he might care what your religion is. Or his parents might care.” 

She hadn’t considered his parents.

Looking around the Kibbutz she watched the children taking care of the vegetable garden. They spoke Hebrew, a language she had learned well enough to get through her Bat Mitzvah but not well enough to become conversational. She realized that unlike Tel Aviv, only Hebrew and English were spoken at that Kibbutz.

What would he think returning her call at the Kibbutz? She had left a message with his sister when she called last night upon arriving. It had been a long bus ride, and she was relieved to finally check in to her modest room, pleased to see the phone sitting on the night table. After holding onto that folded piece of paper all day, she had quickly dialed the number, disappointed that he wasn’t home.

***

“Rummy!”

“Again? You’re cheating.”

“How am I cheating? Look, I have three tens and four sixes. I win fair and square.” The women in their wheelchairs bickered on and on, the sound of it mixing with the coffee making her sick. She looked around for someone to take her home.

***

“You play rummy here?” 

“Yeah, why not? This is Israel, not Mars.”

She sat down at the table with the hotel staff, excited to be with him after a day of exploring the local art galleries and boutiques with the tour group. She had said good night to her mother before sneaking downstairs for some wine and cheese left over from a catered event. Keeping their nightly rendezvous a secret made it more exciting, thrilling actually, she realized, as she sat close to him at the table.

***

“Becky, you look exhausted. What’s the deal?”

“I guess the jet lag caught up to me finally,” she squirmed at the breakfast table realizing how ridiculous that sounded. After being in Israel almost two weeks it was unlikely that jet lag would still have any effect on her. The first few days they spent in Jerusalem, sleeping late and poking around the old city at their leisure had adjusted her internal clock to Middle Eastern time.

“Coffee please!” The giggling girls shouted, bringing embarrassment to the entire table. “And that gorgeous waiter, please!” 

She darted them a look, daring them to continue on. It didn’t matter, she realized, he had no interest in them. She thought back to the night before, biting her lower lip to keep from smiling ear to ear. 

He appeared by her side filling up her coffee cup before heading to the giggle twins. She felt the warmth radiating, was it from the steaming beverage or his attention? 

After a few sips she rose from the table letting her mother know she had to finish packing with the few precious moments she had before checkout. Looking around she found him talking with the busboys she had met the night before. “I could use some help bringing down my luggage, please.” Putting down the coffee pot, he escorted her to the elevator. 

***

“Does she remember me?” The unexpected voice brought her back to the present.

“Of course. Go on, say hello to Grandma,” the woman nudged the little boy through the doorway. 

She had no idea who they were, most likely they came into the wrong room, but he was so precious she felt sorry for him in his nervous state.

***

“It’s okay. You can come in,” she laughed as he stood in the doorway awkwardly.

He entered the room leaving the door open. 

“You really have the most gorgeous eyes I have ever seen,” she boldly told him, finally admitting what she had been thinking nonstop the past few days.

He blushed, reaching for the pad and pencil left on the writing desk for the guests.

“You’ll be in Israel a few more days?”

“Yes, at the Kibbutz.”

Scribbling quickly, he tore off the sheet and handed it to her.

“Call me.” 

He was still a few feet away from her, being the gentleman that he apparently was. She folded the paper, placing it deep into her pocket for safekeeping and stepped up to close the gap between them.

***

“Ali.” She whispered, suddenly remembering everything clearly.

She remembered the young girl on the swing realizing they would never see each other again.

She remembered blinking back tears after his father harshly told her not to call again when answering the phone, confirming her mother’s suspicions. 

She lay her head down on the pillow thinking of those eyes while closing her own.