“Yes,” Jennifer said. “I made it for Phil, and three days later he proposed. Coincidence? I doubt it.”
I protested, “Look, Jen, I’m not really trying to get Luke to propose to me — ”
“Go to the kosher butcher up on Third,” she continued inexorably. “He’s got great roasts.”
“‘Kosher’?” I repeated. My mind was spinning. “But we’re not Jewish.” At least, I wasn’t, and I sort of doubted that Luke followed any religion, for obvious reasons.
“That’s got nothing to do with it. Kosher butchers have great cuts of meat because they’ve got to follow stricter rules. My friend Sarah told me that in high school.”
Sarah and Jennifer had been best friends since third grade or something, and Sarah was going to be Jennifer’s maid of honor — thank God, since that was more work than I thought I could dea
