Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
An hour later, the candles were burned down, and Andie had one red candy left in front of her. Even with Leo munching on his winnings she didn’t have a chance at catching up. She’d never had much of a competitive streak, and times like this proved it. The fun existed more in playing the game than in the winning or losing. Despite the previous night’s sour note, she did enjoy this time with Leo. “Either this game ends here, or we’ll be going at it for another hour.”
Leo raised an eyebrow, lips curving. “Going at it?” He leaned forward and she swore his eyes darkened, as though an invitation not related to dreidels had landed on the table.
Her entire body grew warm and tingly. Who knew not-strip dreidel still came with flirting? “You know what I mean.”
He added two candies to the center—and one to his mouth—body still angled toward her. “Maybe I like the idea.”
If there hadn’t been an additional invitation on the table, there certainly was one now. He only needed to add one candy, but she accepted the encouragement and spun her dreidel. Gimel, she’d accept the unspoken invitation. Nun, she’d pass. It twirled in wobbly loops, her thoughts pinging back and forth between the two options, unsure which she wanted for tonight. The dreidel’s loops grew haphazard before skidding to a halt near the center pile, landing on a shin.
She didn’t know whether to sigh in relief or be bummed.
“Welp, I’m out. Can’t put two in the pot when I have nothing left.” She leaned back, marveling over how two evenings could be so different. The previous night must have been an off one for him. She’d take it. “The win is yours.”
Leo fiddled with a few of his candies. “I guess it is. The question being, you still on for something tomorrow night of my choosing?”
She studied his face, and the caution suddenly lurking on his cheeks. Adorable, absolutely adorable. Did she want another night in his company? She looked inward: a content and happy feeling filled her, and it had nothing to do with avoiding being alone for the holiday. She wanted more of his pink cheeks and sexy smile. “Yes. I am.”
“Then I’d like to take you out for dinner. Not takeout that I hadn’t intended to share. Andie, will you have dinner with me tomorrow?” He leaned his elbows on the table. He’d rolled his sleeves up, and sturdy forearms dusted with hair shifted the table toward him, biceps struggling against the bunched-up fabric. The kind of arms she wanted banded around her or propping him up next to her.
She pressed her lips together. This had changed from two neighbors hanging out during Chanukah to something that most definitely spelled out d-a-t-e. She wanted to enjoy herself this Chanukah, didn’t she? She deserved the potential of nice forearms in her immediate future.
“Okay, you’re on. A date it is.” No use not labeling it appropriately.
He grinned, those smooth cheeks rising, and she nearly swooned. “Excellent. And thank you.”
His face had sobered, the grin slipping, and she found herself reaching a hand across the table, covering one of his. The contact created a jolt, but she didn’t pull back, she welcomed it. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. I’m just grateful you gave me this second night. I’m enjoying spending time with you.”
“I’m enjoying spending time with you, too.” Much more than she would have expected.
“Even after last night?”
She let him go, though her cheeks were definitely smiling. “How do you feel about me being a preschool teacher?”
“I think it’s wonderful and you should move wherever you need to.”
Andie laughed.
“Never say I’m a man who doesn’t learn.”
“And that is why I’ll see you again tomorrow. Goodnight, Leo.”
She rose, gathered up her new candles, and headed for the door before she investigated those sexy arms prematurely. Hand on the knob she turned, catching him standing but not going after her. A light stubble covered his jaw, accentuated his lips, calling her to him. She could walk back and kiss him, see where else this night could go.
No. She might be on borrowed time, but no need to rush. She had tomorrow and most of the nights of Chanukah. Perhaps one of those nights she’d manage to scratch this itch.
She made the short trek back to her apartment and let herself in. Darkness greeted her, and before her eyes could adjust she flipped on the lights. Her place didn’t have the charm that Leo’s did, but it was home. Her belongings. Her memories.
For a little while longer, at least.
She placed the candles on her desk, next to the two pictures she kept on display. One of her entire family from when she was baby. Her mother cradling her, looking down at her daughter in such a way that Andie had never needed to doubt her mother loved her. Her father with his arm around her mother, smiling at the wife he didn’t know he’d lose so soon. The second photo was of her and her father at her college graduation. Her smile filled her face, and her father’s eyes shone with pride.
Life would have been different if her mother had lived, but her father did his best to make her life a good one.
Now it was up to her to make the rest good.
She ran her fingers over the chipped varnish on the desk, over the drawer that had been stuck in a closed position so long she wondered if it ever was supposed to move. Like the pictures above, this desk represented love. Oh, she wished it wasn’t falling apart, but this desk helped her mother with homework, and her with homework, and she’d carry the broken fragments of it wherever life took her to continue the tradition.
Moving. Her parents would want her to reach for the stars and accomplish all her dreams. Those dream directed her to Ohio, where a new job offer awaited her acceptance. They’d want her to accept and not hang back for memories, as precious as they were.
“I wish you were here to guide me.”
The figures in her photos didn’t answer her. Grief wrapped around her, the loss of her father still fresh and would be for years to come. How she wanted a family to support her again. Someone to go to and cry on their shoulders, to steal a meal from the freezer, or ask for outlandish Chanukah gifts. Someone to confide in and provide that unconditional support her father had doled out in waves.
“I’ll find it again.”
She had time. It just wouldn’t be in the same place of her youth.
Her gaze flitted to her wall shared with Leo’s apartment. She’d miss him, miss the potential of where this fun night went. Who knew, maybe she’d find someone intriguing in her next apartment building.
That made her sad and she welcomed it. Moving would be sad. On so many levels. But life had handed her an opportunity for a rewarding new start and she’d be a fool to pass it up.
“I guess I’m going to need more boxes.”
Leo finished loading his dishwasher after dinner when his phone vibrated with a message from Millie.
Millie: Did you light the magic menorah again?
He laughed and snapped a photo. The flames had burned out a long time ago, but the few wax drippings served as proof.
Millie: Yay! And did you make a wish? Come on Uncle Leo, tell me you made a wish!
Leo: No, I did not make a wish.
Millie: Awwww! Come on, give it a try. Or I can try. Can I come over and make a wish?
Leo: And what would you wish for?
Millie: I already gave you my Chanukah list.
Leo chuckled and propped a hip against his counter, firing off a response. Millie had sent a group text on November first with all of her top wish list items, first come, first served. He wished he had half her confidence.
Leo: I know you did. I already bought your present. What would you wish for?
Millie: Nope. Wishes are meant to be secret, that’s how they come true.
Millie: You should at least try. Light them tomorrow. Make a wish.
Leo: I don’t think that’s necessary.
Millie: Think of it as a science experiment.
Leo: With an antique menorah.
Millie: Fine. Do it for your niece!
She sent a picture of her looking up at the camera with doe eyes and a stuck-out lip.
Leo’s heart rolled over in his chest. “Damn, she’s good.” Not wanting to suck out the magic left in her life, especially as a child for whom Santa was never a real entity, Leo opted to not point out that menorahs really weren’t magic.
Leo: Okay. For you. What should I wish for?
Millie: Nope, that will ensure it doesn’t work. But if I were to lend some suggestions, I might mention that neighbor you are too chicken to ask out.
Leo nearly dropped his phone. Good thing they weren’t on video, if they were she’d be dancing around and twirling and thinking the menorah really had magic and it had worked. Because apparently he’d never make a move any other way.
Leo: Chicken?
Millie sent a gif of a chicken being choked.
Leo nearly doubled over with laughter.
Leo: Don’t use that gif.
Millie: Why not?
Leo: Ask your mother.
No way was he getting into that.
Millie: Fine. Don’t ask out your neighbor.
Leo grinned. Maybe his own initiative would give Millie a little holiday magic, no menorah required.
Leo: I can’t tell you my wish anyways, according to your rules it won’t come true.
Millie: Good point! Tomorrow night, make a wish!
Leo: For you, tomorrow, I will.
Millie: Yay!!!
He put his phone away, chuckling at his niece. He’d light the candles tomorrow and then the next day tell her that he had a date planned with Andie. And if it all felt a little magical to him, that was simply the power of the holiday season.