Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
S uddenly, the lights dimmed, and “ LATKEPALOOZA, ladies and gentlemen, and children of all ages! ” boomed over the PA system. Avi half-expected a DJ to run out with fistfuls of glowsticks to throw into the crowd, like at a rave. Instead, it was a young, conservatively dressed guy. And sure enough, glowsticks. Tzitzit swung back and forth from where it peeked out from beneath his sweater as he ran from side to side, tossing out neon toys and encouraging the crowd to cheer.
Behind him, the grand total from the latke sales and basket raffles flashed on a projection screen: $2,847.
“Thanks to everyone’s generosity tonight – ” the MC tapped the mic “ – and your excellent appetite for potato pancakes, we’re off to a great start. But for those who haven’t heard, we’re hoping to do even more for the Schnee family.”
Avi felt Leah shift beside him on the folding chair.
“Last Tuesday night,” he continued, “the Schnees lost everything in an electrical fire. Thank Hashem, everyone got out safely, but with four kids under ten...” He cleared his throat. “Well, it’s hard enough to lose your home. But to lose it during Hanukkah, when the kids were so excited about their presents, their menorah, everything their parents had planned...”
Sympathetic murmurs rose from the crowd.
Avi’s hand automatically went to his back pocket, muscle memory reaching for a wallet that wasn’t there. He’d done this a thousand times—spotted someone in need, made a quiet call, arranged whatever was needed. But tonight, he was just another guy in a JCC folding chair, completely powerless to help.
His fingers played with the chain around his neck.
Almost completely powerless.
“We’re still looking for some big-ticket items for tomorrow night’s auction,” the MC continued to rally the crowd. “Something to light up their Hanukkah...”
Avi caught Leah’s eye. She looked stricken, and he knew she was thinking the same thing he was—they’d snuck into the latke line as “volunteers” to grab some free dinner, no clue they were taking food from a fundraiser. He watched her hand drift to her coat pocket, probably checking what was left of her dwindling cash. She’d been carrying them both for days now, and his gratitude was matched only by his guilt.
“Hey.” He touched her elbow. “Think we should get going? I just need to hit the restroom before we get back on the road.”
“Oh!” Her eyes darted toward the kitchen. “I need to...check something. With the latke ladies.”
They were terrible liars, both of them.
“Meet at the exit in ten minutes?” he suggested.
She nodded, already backing away.
Avi watched her go, then scanned the crowd.
The ring’s weight felt heavier with each step. Two months ago, in Vegas, Sylvie had handed it back with a smile and a “not for me.” He’d kept wearing it because...well, he wasn’t sure why. Habit? Fear?
Watching it become part of the Schnees’ miracle felt like a fresh start.
Now he needed someone to handle the auction item discreetly. The last thing he needed was for his “anonymous” donation to blow his cover.
The man Leah had pointed out earlier as the jeweler, Sam, smiled as Avi neared. The old man’s eyes crinkled – no doubt delighted at the sight of a grown-ass adult, sans child, approaching. “What’ll it be, young sir? Your standard poodle? A pangolin?”
Avi didn’t even have a clue of what a pangolin was, but there was no time to inquire about that now. He glanced around to ensure Leah wasn’t listening. “I heard you’re a jeweler. I need an honest appraisal.”
Sam’s expression shifted from jovial to professional as Avi handed him the ring.
“Beautiful specimen. Impressive clarity.” Sam pulled a loupe from his pocket. “Not a family heirloom?”
“Not even close.” The Vegas impulse purchase had had a high stakes price tag, as did most things there. “I know what I paid for it. But what’s it worth for the auction?”
“Complete standstill on 81?” The JCC’s volunteer check-in lady, Hannah, hurried past, phone pressed to her ear. “I heard Route 17 has black ice, too...jackknifed trucks...no, we should cancel tomorrow morning’s delivery just in case.”
Avi’s pulse kicked in at words “black ice.” No way Bertha could handle that, even with her two new all-season radials. Dammit, they were so close and yet so far. Normally, Avi wouldn’t think twice about finishing up the drive at night, rolling into Manhattan at two o’clock in the morning. Hell, Asher’s bar was still in full swing. But he couldn’t risk Leah – or Bertha, for that matter.
Sam pulled his attention back to the ring. “You could get more down in the Diamond district for what anyone here could bid. But I’d say this could fetch enough to cover… at least six months’ rent for the Schnee family?”
Avi nodded, suddenly sure. “Then it’s yours. For the auction.”
He walked away, the weight around his neck finally gone. But now he had to find Leah to break the news about putting them up – and putting up with him – for yet another night.
The kitchen had cleared out, save for the volunteer who had been on fryer duty during Leah’s latke rotation. Her daughter was thankfully not in earshot. Leah hadn’t caught either of their names during her short stint, but had a feeling she could offer them something of interest. She tugged her messenger bag closer, fingers brushing against the envelope in the inner pocket. Her and Jaz’s Matzo Baller tickets, worth their weight in gold-wrapped chocolate gelt – and then some.
“Hi again.” She waved to the woman, who put down her sponge and smiled. “Your daughter… is she actually a fan of Painted Doors?”
The woman’s eyes widened. “Alana has loved them since high school—wait.” She lowered her voice. “Is he really...?”
Leah’s plan may have been impromptu, but it didn’t involve outing Avi in the process. “No,” she hastily replied. “I only ask because I heard about the Schnee family.” She pulled out the envelope. “I can’t imagine losing everything, right before Hanukkah.”
“Such a tragedy.” Fryer lady clicked her tongue.
“I have these.” Leah slid the tickets across the counter. “They’re worth quite a bit. Maybe they could help? If there was an interested bidder? I know it’s not an actual Painted Doors concert, but I heard their singer performs a few songs on board every year.”
The woman’s eyes widened as she read the embossed text. “Are you for real? Alana and I have been following the Matzo Baller’s Instagram for months now, waiting to see if more tickets would be released, but we could never – ”
“Take them. Please. For the winning bid. Name your price.”
The woman rushed to her purse in the corner. “This solves what to get Alana for her eighth night gift! I’m writing a check to the fund right now. A thousand dollars? It’s my limit. Hell, this will be her birthday and next year’s gift too. And a gift to Mama.” She waggled her brows and minced her hips. “Seeing those leather pants up close and in person, hopefully!”
“And just think of all the Hanukkah gifts those kids will get with your help,” Leah offered, trying to get the woman on a more righteous path than ogling Avi on board the ship.
At least I won’t be there to see it.
So much had gone wrong since she had pulled onto the highway Wednesday morning. But so many unexpected things had felt right since then, too. This being one of them.
She would miss the boat, literally and figuratively. But would still get Avi there, as promised. Maybe she could convince him to deliver the remaining rugelach to Hersh as planned. She’d find a way to meet investors on land, rather than as a captive audience on board the ship. Probably not Eli Gold, but that had been a long shot anyway.
The kitchen door swung open. Avi had come looking for her. “Slight hitch in the plan. Both of our major routes to the city are completely shut down. Black ice.”
“What?” Leah's stomach dropped. She’d already texted Jaz’s very patient cousin in New Jersey to leave the lights on for her. And after spacing out on rescheduling their first- and second- night influencers to receive their Mahjong sets, she was already feeling like she was failing at every turn.
The high of placing the Matzo Baller tickets in good hands for a worthy cause was fading fast. And where were they going to find an available, affordable hotel if the roads were not drivable due to the dangerous ice?
“You can stay with us.” Sarit appeared behind Avi, carrying the last of the empty latke trays. “Noam and I live two doors down, so you can even walk with us. After all your and Julian’s help? Esther, I insist.”
Right…they were still the Rosenbergs. Esther and Julian.
Leah caught Avi's eye across the kitchen. He looked as startled as she felt, but there was something else in his expression. Something that made her forget all about doctors, influencers and investors and everything else waiting in Manhattan.
Something that made her think about the pros and cons of another night stuck in the middle of the state with Avigdor Wolfson.
The scales had been steadily tipping in his favor.
“That’s so kind, Sarit,” she heard herself saying. “If you’re sure it’s not too much trouble...”
“Trouble? Please.” Sarit waved her hand. “It’s Hanukkah. We make room for miracles.”