Chapter 27 ShmuckMensch

During their staff meeting, Tony covered a range of topics from what breaking plates has to do with New Year's (ask people in Denmark!), to the amount of potatoes grown around the world annually (more than 350 million tons!). "Now back on topic!" Tony yelled. "We need to choose our picks for the annual death pool! We can't let Celeb Club beat us again! That was embarrassing! We're supposed to be the most serious of all the Club publications and that means winning the death pool! We have a reputation to keep!"

Leah looked at Alex and Mark for an explanation. "Oprah!" Mark shouted out. "The pope!" Alex contributed. "That's always your guess!" Mark retorted. "J.R.R Tolkien!"

"He's already dead!" Alex responded. "You mean J.R.R. Martin!"

"Whatever, an author with J.R."

"That could also be Rowling."

"Rowling!" Tony exclaimed. "A very bold pick! I'm not sure. People would hate us if we won!"

Leah stood silently, leaning on the end of the desk. Yes, there were chairs in Tony's office, but no one sat during meetings. Meetings were supposed to be quick, Tony insisted, no need to sit for just a few minutes. Science proved that meetings finished faster when people stood. But obviously science didn't realize how off-topic some meetings could veer. She was starting to understand the game, or as they called it, the death pool, and wanted to contribute. "Putin?" she said as though someone could confirm whether she was right.

"Rosenberg!" Tony clapped loudly. "I like it! He is traveling a very dark road that one! He definitely might die in the next year!" Tony wrote down their department's top three picks as Mark explained everything to Leah.

Diamond Media had an annual tradition of guessing which celebrities would die in the next year. Every year on the first day back at work each department submitted its guesses. Usually, people picked celebrities from their own domains. Teen Club chose whichever teen celebrities were getting too addicted to partying and drugs. Connoisseur Club often chose gluttons whose cholesterol would likely catch up with them. Fashion Club chose models who hadn't eaten since before they submitted their picks the previous year. Home Club had been choosing Betty White every year for the last several years and finally got one point. Celeb Club always seemed to be in the know, so much so that it had been rumored they might even be the cause of some celebrity deaths .

"What about departments like HR?" Leah asked.

"Don't ever mention the death pool to HR!" Tony screamed. "If you do, you can list my name as next year's pick!" Apparently, HR wasn't keen on this tradition. It was something all the magazine department heads did together quietly, submitting their picks in a locked Excel spreadsheet. Whenever someone's pick died (it happened at least a couple times a year, the most it ever happened was eight times a year. That was a scary year, said Tony. Mostly scary for the other selected celebrities whose names would be ticked off next.) the department heads all chipped in (from their personal pockets, so as not to get the finance department, who also wouldn't approve of this tradition, involved.) and bought the winning department donuts.

"When Anthony Bourdain died, wow," Tony commented. "We had to buy gourmet donuts for Connoisseur! They insisted the donuts needed to be themed with the celebrity. I wanted to just give them dirt, like what he used to eat on his traveling food show. He tasted worms! It was a delicacy! But Jim over at Connoisseur insisted we go the Brasserie route. You know how expensive French donuts are? Anyway, this year I want donuts! Russian donuts would be great! Ha! I bet they'll have to search hard if Leah's pick wins!"

With their picks chosen, Tony let out the staff meeting. They had important work to do! Everyone needed to focus so they weren't behind after a week of vacation! Leah let her colleagues out first before following them back to their cubicles.

When she sat down, she saw a reply to her email to Gabe and quickly opened it.

Counselor considering deal and may propose his own terms shortly. Default is not forgiven and breach may be irreconcilable.

It was something. Sure, she wasn't forgiven, but he was considering their relationship. She wondered what his considerations were. In mergers, parties considered financial terms, percentage of ownership, voting rights, and obligations. They negotiated how mergers could be terminated and the consequences of defaulting on agreements.

She spent the rest of her day working mindlessly, barely paying attention to the data entry she did or the stories she wrote. She went to lunch with Alex and Mark and barely listened to their stories about New Year's.

She wondered if Gabe was worth it. She understood that the longer they stayed together the more issues they would face. Her family would always be disappointed by him, they'd never stop making inappropriate comments. They'd never be happy for Leah's relationship with him, no matter how happy she was.

She imagined what would happen in their future. Would her parents come to her wedding? What kind of wedding would they have? Who would officiate? And what if she did want to keep a kosher home and have her Bubbe's dishes? Was that an option?

She hadn't even thought about children yet. She knew Gabe said he didn't want any, but could his mind be changed? And then what? Would the kids go to Hebrew school? Get B'nai Mitzvahed? And what about BBYO? Would they get the same magical experiences she had growing up?

Was she willing to go through these complicated choices for love? Was their love worth it? Would Gabe even give her the chance to decide?

Things would have been so easy with Asher. She remembered the way she used to feel about him and the fantasies she always had. They'd get married young, have a picket fence, and beautiful babies who'd be blessed at Temple during their baby naming or briss. It would be easy, but did she love Asher? Or had she outgrown him the same way she outgrew her sparkly red Bat Mitzvah dress?

"What's going on?" Alex said over the cubicle wall. "You're off today. It's not because of…"

"No, no!" she assured him, hoping he wouldn't say anything about their encounter that she needed to forget.

"Is the goyfriend being a shmuck?"

She laughed. "Where did you learn that word? "

"I've seen enough movies to know that you want to date a mensch instead of a shmuck."

"He's a mensch," she responded. "I think I'm the shmuck in this movie."

"Well, then you better do something about that," he responded.

Leah nodded. It was good advice, but she didn't know what something she had to do.