Chapter Six
“Akiva, I know you’re just putting this on to piss me off. Turn it down already.”
Akiva’s laughter floated back to Arielle as he turned up the volume on Judah’s Chanukah album, and she cursed at him under her breath.
It’d been two months since Lauren’s wedding, and whatever goodwill Judah had amassed with her by agreeing to her silly prank was long gone.
He’d barely played along anyway, spending half the third round of dancing hiding behind the saxophonist and doing absolutely nothing to discourage Joanna from shaking her tiny little booty for him.
By the time Ari’d gotten home that night, she was both embarrassed for asking him such a silly favor and horrified that she’d actually wanted those admittedly gorgeous navy eyes on her, and it had all blended together into growing irritation at him for seeing her at her petty worst.
Not to mention, she’d made the disastrous error of telling Akiva the whole story, and he’d thought it was hilarious. There were days Arielle also found it funny, but right then, Liana was missing their Chanukah party for a date with Gideon, and it was making Ari crankier than usual.
“The whole reason we’re having the damn party is that we thought it was a nice tradition to uphold after last year,” Ari muttered to an imaginary Liana as she scattered foil-wrapped chocolate coins around the coffee table.
“You know, the party you had us throw last minute as an excuse to spend time with your stupid crush.” Immediately, Ari felt bad.
“Okay, Gideon’s not stupid—he’s great—and I know tonight was the only night he could get tickets for, but still, this feels sacrilegious. ”
“Talking to yourself again, Becker?” Danny swooped in and grabbed a coin, tearing off the foil with the same care he’d once used to destroy her favorite bra. “Is that what happens when your other half isn’t around?”
“Shut up, Weinstein,” she muttered, well aware her comeback lacked both heat and pizzazz. “Maybe make yourself useful instead of eating all the gelt. Did someone already pick up the sufganiyot?”
“Em’s bringing them,” he said with his mouth full.
“Then put out the drinks.”
“I’m on it!” Akiva called back from the kitchen.
Ari opened her mouth to bark another order but let it fall shut.
There was nothing left to do. The sparse decorations were done, she’d already set up her menorah, Liana’s latkes—her penance for skipping the party—were warming in the oven, and there were already bowls of applesauce on the table to accompany them.
(“Don’t you dare put out sour cream,” Liana had warned her before heading out the door with Gideon.
“If sour cream goes anywhere near my latkes, I’ll know. ”)
And, of course, there was already festive music in the air, the boys singing loudly along with “Dedication,” the hit from Judah’s Chanukah album that had first put him on the map.
Ari had loved that song the first time she’d heard it.
And, okay, maybe the second and third. But now?
Ugh. “Can we listen to literally anything else?” she yelled.
Before anyone could answer, the door swung open, and in walked Emily with a stack of doughnut boxes. “I tried knocking but I guess you guys couldn’t hear me over the music.” Her mouth widened into a huge smile. “Oh, hey, I love this song!”
Ari pressed her face into her palms and suppressed a scream.
An hour later, the party was in full swing, and Ari’d mostly forgotten her annoyance. Her apartment was full of friends from the neighborhood, they’d finally changed up the music, their patented dreidel drinking game—SevivOhNo—had people in an excellent mood, and even her sisters had dropped by.
That last one was a little more of a mixed bag.
“You sure you don’t wanna play?” Hannah asked her for the twelfth time. Her little sister’s eyes were a little glassy, a Twizzler hanging out of her mouth, the aqua streaks in her hair bright where they peeked out of her twisted knot. “I’m on fire tonight.”
“It’s dreidel,” their older sister Dana said dryly, “not craps at the Bellagio.”
“Maybe Dana should play,” Ari suggested. “A little vodka would do her a lot of good.” She could swear her sister had enjoyed fun once, but her long-term boyfriend, Evan, seemed to have sucked all that out of her. At least she hadn’t brought him.
“Dana is a grown-up, but thanks.” She took a sip of seltzer with a slice of lime that’d been intended for tequila shots, her chemically straightened and meticulously colored blond locks brushing her shoulders.
Ari had to stop herself from shaking her head sadly.
Thirty was looming extremely close for Ari, and though she knew Dana’s obnoxious partner was a big reason for her sister’s irritating demeanor, she still couldn’t help worrying that the big 3–0 would come with some flip of a switch that would turn her into a boring pain in the ass.
Dana Becker and Judah Klein did not make the other side of thirty look fun.
A roar rose from the crowd as the dreidel landed on shin, forcing Danny to take another shot. “That’s it for me.” He groaned as he slammed down the empty glass. “Becker, take over.”
All three Becker girls looked up instinctively, and he laughed. “I meant Ari, but all are welcome.”
She’d initially begged off to deal with refilling platters and replenishing drinks—and, frankly, because she tried not to drink when she was sad—but now that her guests were sated and her mood was better, Ari happily took Danny’s seat around the coffee table, to Hannah’s hearty applause.
For a split second, Ari noticed Danny’s gaze shift to her little sister, and she quickly shot him her patented death glare until he looked away.
Focusing back on the game, Ari frowned down at the two measly foil-wrapped coins sitting in front of her. “Wow, Danny, you legit suck at this. Don’t I get some starter coins for joining midgame?”
“You’ll have to ask the SevivOhNo master,” Noah said seriously, “who’s been in the bathroom for…” He checked his watch. “At least seven minutes.”
“Akiva!” she hollered. “Get your ass back here!”
“You do not want me to do that right now!” he yelled back. Whatever he said next was completely drowned out by the sound of the front door slamming open, drawing everyone’s attention.
And before Ari could even process what was happening, a glowing, red-cheeked Liana jumped inside, thrusting her hand in the air. “We’re engaged!”
“So, we’re happy? Or we’re unhappy?” Naima asked, her eyebrows drawn into a confused wrinkle.
“We’re happy,” Arielle said firmly. She stared at the chipped royal blue polish on her nails against the veneer of the wood table and remembered how she’d offered to do Liana’s to match.
It’ll be festive, for the party, she’d said.
That was when Liana had told her she wouldn’t be able to make it, and they’d dropped the subject of nails entirely.
But Liana’s had been perfectly polished last night, a pristine pink that looked perfect on the hand now sporting the simple round diamond solitaire of her dreams.
When had her best friend grown up without her?
“Your mouth says happy,” James observed, “but your face does not say happy. Do we not like the guy?”
“We definitely like the guy.” Ari sighed, rubbing her thumb over the little opening in the plastic lid of her hot cup.
“And we are happy for her. We are just not happy to be losing our best friend. And roommate—oh, God, I didn’t even think about how I need to find a new roommate.
” She glared at her laptop. “KisStory needs to start paying me enough to live alone.”
“Hey, you know what you could’ve done to make that happen?
” Naima shot her a pointed look, and Ari winced.
It’d been a month since their old boss, Millie, took off to Stockholm and was replaced by an extremely enthusiastic dudebro named Erik who constantly needed the romance genre explained to him.
Every single time he opened his mouth at one of their meetings, she was reminded of the wasted opportunity, and it was getting harder and harder to convince herself she’d done the right thing by not applying for Millie’s job.
“Did you two really want me to become your boss? Don’t you think that would’ve sucked?”
“I think Erik sucks,” James said flatly.
Ari’s coffee had gone cold, but she took a sip anyway, if for no other reason than to avoid their pointed stares as her stomach sank. Keeping the good things in her life from changing was why she hadn’t applied for the job, and then Liana had to go and get engaged and upend her whole life anyway.
“Things would’ve changed way more than the two of you are acknowledging,” Ari declared with an authority she didn’t entirely feel. “And what would’ve happened if I hadn’t gotten it? I would’ve had to look for a new job, and the gaming industry isn’t exactly swimming in openings for editors.”
“You are imminently more qualified than Erik,” said Naima, “and if you hadn’t gotten it, we probably all would’ve quit.”
“Now who’s being ridiculous?” Ari rolled her eyes and glanced at her email, groaning inwardly when she saw Erik had scheduled yet another meeting for Friday afternoon.
No matter how many times she told him she had to sign off early on winter Fridays for Shabbos, he always scheduled meetings that either ran right into it or butted up so close that she knew her entire day would be chaos.
“I have never seen someone love working on Fridays as much as this man does,” James said exasperatedly. “You’d think he’d want to spend his weekends with the girlfriend he can’t stop dropping into every conversation.”
Ari snorted. “Bet you a thousand dollars she ‘lives in Canada.’ No way a woman is tolerating him on the regular.”
“Oh, there’s someone for everyone,” Naima said lightly.
It was one of her favorite sentiments, and normally Ari laughed it off, but today it rankled.
It was easy to believe that when you were married.
And yeah, there was somebody for Liana. There was somebody for Bella.
There was someone for pretty much everyone in her life—even if Evan sucked, he was still someone for Dana.
But that didn’t mean there was someone for everyone.
Case in point: her entirely single ass.
Not that she wanted to be paired up, but she couldn’t even recall the last time she’d had the option. She’d never been asked on a date that didn’t have the obvious subtext of “Let’s fool around, but sure, I’ll buy you dinner or a movie ticket first.”
A little warning about Liana’s engagement might’ve helped.
When she’d playfully ribbed Gideon about it the night before, he’d said he already knew what ring Liana wanted and what night her closest friends would already be together, so why not make it an actual surprise?
“Who needs an official l’chaim when you have an authentic F-Train Chanukah party?
” He’d looked so proud of himself—especially for his use of the nickname Akiva had created to encompass both of their apartments (4F and 5F)—that she couldn’t even let herself be pissed about being shafted out of the usual experience of throwing a surprise engagement party for one’s close friends.
And so she’d celebrated, and drank, and thought about making herself feel better by hooking up with Danny again, until she realized it would make her feel worse, and drank some more. Frankly, it was a wonder she’d shown up on time this morning at all.
But Liana had asked her to be her maid of honor immediately, and Ari had wrapped her in a huge hug, and there hadn’t been anything to do but celebrate and make Liana swear that she wouldn’t choose a bridesmaid color that looked hideous on her.
Ari’s phone buzzed with a text, and she looked down and smiled. Speak of the devil.
Liana: Which Sunday in August do you think sounds best for the wedding?
Liana: Wait, the first one is my grandma’s bday
Liana: I wonder if she’d mind
Liana: ALSO how vital do we think a sushi bar is
Ari sighed and wrote back. Any day in August will be perfect, and no, your grandmother will not care.
Ari: Doesn’t Gideon hate sushi?
Liana: With a passion.
Ari: Skip the sushi.
She put down her phone, only for it to immediately buzz again.
Liana: OMG guess what
Liana: Akiva’s having Judah check his August schedule
Liana: I know he’s not your fave but you know I have to have him, right
Liana: Don’t kill me
She groaned and slipped her phone back in her bag. It was going to be a long eight months.