Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
A vi stared at the bunk beds, trying not to laugh. Sarit’s offer to make room for them was generous – considering the size of their two-bedroom apartment in an old converted Victorian. The living room had no couch option, just two oversized chairs and lots of toys.
“The twins love sleeping in our king bed.” Sarit bounced her fussing baby on her hip. “And we still co-sleep with her, so it’s like one big slumber party.” She laughed as the little girls, over-excited and probably sugared up from mini-donuts, ran in and out, grabbing pajamas and stuffed animals. Her husband, quiet and shy, picked up toys in their wake.
“This is so sweet of you,” Leah insisted. “We promise we’ll be out of your hair first thing in the morning.”
“Possibly before you even wake up,” Avi added. It was possible they wouldn’t sleep, given the level of chaos currently going on. Forget rock stars and their trashed hotel rooms – they had nothing on these twins. “Once Route 81 opens back up, we need to head to the city.”
Sarit nodded, a gracious and laidback host. “I’ll set the coffee pot timer tonight. There’s homemade challah and sunflower butter on the counter. Help yourselves.”
When the door closed, Leah called dibs on the top bunk. “All yours, Gellman.” He laughed, knowing it would be a struggle just to fold himself into the lower bunk. “Just don’t sleep strip from up there.”
Avi had a sudden vision of her clothes cascading down, being buried by her jettisoned pajama bottoms. Her top.
Her panties.
He’d climb right up that ladder, so help them both. And would probably break the bed.
Avi swallowed hard, reminding himself of all the reasons this was impossible. The timing, the circumstances, their entire history. It wasn't going to happen—but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the way her cheeks pinked just now. Or couldn't flirt. To see how far he could push it until Leah pushed back. He could live with that. He could be content here, in the space between the lines they couldn’t cross.
The flush deepened, spreading, and he wondered if she was thinking the same thing. “You wish,” she mumbled, but he caught her biting back a smile. She pulled items from the bag she’d grabbed from the car, including the tell-tale tin and another ornate Mahjong box.
“You plan to keep me up all night playing for rugelach, you…you tile temptress?”
Her laugh rang out, but she quickly muffled it, mindful of the quiet household. “No, I just…I don’t want it to freeze out there. Sarit mentioned she plays. I’ll leave this set as a hostess gift.” She set both on the kid’s desk by the window. “Tile Temptress – that’s got potential for my business name, though. Good one.”
“What can I say? I’m an ideas guy. Speaking of which…” He pulled three glowsticks from his back pocket. “Closest thing to candles?”
“I knew we were forgetting something!” Leah dimmed the lights. “There was a big menorah at the J, you know.”
“Yeah, but…we weren’t there in time to see it lit.” He cracked the yellow stick, and it glowed to life. “Your shamash , m’lady.”
Leah giggled. “Oh! Wait.” She pulled a tiny paper sack from her bag. “They handed these out at the door as we were leaving.” She set three donut holes on top of the rugelach tin. “Your menorah, good sir.”
Avi carefully worked two glowsticks past the crusty glaze, making sure they were upright before licking his fingers. He felt Leah’s gaze flicker over him, and he couldn't resist leaning into the moment. “I’ve got a sweet tooth for all things Hanukkah,” he confessed, his voice dropping low.
“So I see.” Leah carefully cracked each “candle” stick, turning them neon blue and pink, as Avi touched them with the yellow. Their murmured prayers intertwined in the quiet children’s room.
“Amen…and are there any donuts left?”
“Just one.” Leah split it, and they each savored the small treat in the glow of their makeshift menorah.
“Oh, and happy second night.” She pulled a rolled fabric piece from her overnight bag and tossed it to him.
It was a T-shirt proclaiming RACK N’ ROLL.
“Let me guess. Mahjong thing?”
“Get it? Cuz there’s dice…”
“And racks. Yeah, I remember from this morning’s lesson at the Bit O’ Honey.” He laughed, thinking her T-shirt in the food court. “And no touching, if I recall.”
He shed his hoodie and T-shirt, amused by her trying not to sneak a peek in the dim light.
“Rules are rules.” Her tone was a mix of calculated nonchalance and enthusiasm. “No touching that tin either.”
The rugelach sat on the desk like a silent chaperone as icy rain pelted the windows.
“Well, the Hanukkah rule is, no going to bed until the candles go out,” Avi said, quirking a brow.
Baby Moses in a handmaid’s basket, Avi needed to put on a shirt. They were in a children’s room, for one. And with a sweet, hospitable family drifting off to sleep on the other side of the thin wall. “Avi. Glow juice doesn’t exactly burn out.”
“Chemiluminescence,” he corrected her, venturing closer. “Glow juice.” The scoff, the scruff, the shirtlessness… oy.
“You just made that word up.”
“Google it.”
His dare wasn’t in his words, but in the way he pulled a glowstick from its donut and twirled it between nimble fingers. “It’s a chemical reaction. Generates unstable compounds…which form an excited state.”
She had no doubt Sarit and family could hear her heart beating in the next room, as Avi offered up the available donut to her lips. She gripped the desk, not trusting her shaky legs would hold her.
“You ruined our perfectly good menorah.” She took a bite, careful to avoid his fingers.
“Hanukkah is all about destroying and rebuilding.” He popped the other half into his mouth. “And I’m still hungry. And not at all tired.”
Leah got in the spirit, pulling the next stick out and offering him the donut. He growled a little when she pushed the sugary morsel past his lips. His tongue darted against her fingers, a flick so quick it was gone before she could even catch her breath.
“Last candle standing,” he whispered, reaching for the lone donut hole left. He held it between them. “Make a wish.”
Leah smiled. “I think you’ve got your holidays a little mixed up.”
“Close your eyes anyway.”
“So you can sneak the last donut without me seeing you?” She chided but did as she was told.
A feather-light kiss touched down on her lips, barely a brush. In fact, it could’ve been the air from the slow rotation of the ceiling fan teasing her, getting her hopes up. But then, the touch of his fingers ghosted along her jawline. The warm nip of his mouth followed, catching her cupid’s bow, tugging her top lip, and she gasped as his tongue grazed hers. How had he known her wish?
“Say you’ll save your first dance on the boat for me?” he whispered. “My wish.”
“Avi –”
“The doc can wait a little longer to get his rugelach,” he added, his breath sweet and close.
“Avi, I’m not going to be on the boat,” she confessed. “to meet the doctor or the investors or anyone. I gave up my Matzo Baller tickets for the auction tonight. This woman and her daughter…it was a thousand extra dollars for the family in that fire, I couldn’t – ”
Avi pulled back to look at her, and that was when Leah noticed his necklace in the blue glow streaking down his bare chest. The chain was empty. She dropped her glowstick, colors streaking across the floor.
“Where’s Sylvie’s ring?”
“It was never really hers,” he murmured, tilting his head toward Leah’s as she tentatively touched the silver chain. “And I had been holding on to it because, well…letting go had felt like failing. It wasn’t the right story for Sylvie, or for me.” He lifted his heavy brow. “So I donated it, too.”
As Leah tried to wrap her brain around that, he added, “I wondered how long it would take you to notice.” She gave him a gentle push, but it only caused him to gravitate closer.
“I seriously considered throwing it over the Falls last night, but – you know. Upstanding citizen of the law.”
“Well, I’m glad you saved it for a worthier cause. And kept us out of jail.” Her heart lurched a little. This felt like more than just playful banter, or their shared commitment to tzedakah . This felt like a line being crossed. “And don’t worry – I’m still your ride or die to get to the pier tomorrow so you can catch your mishpacha.” Including Sylvie .
These surreal, short days had left memories that would outlast any harbor cruise.
Avi laughed. “Leah. I don’t think you’ve been listening. My mishpacha is the Matzo Baller. My friend Jay created it for our crew, originally. He’s just been scaling it up ever since, in typical Jay Katz fashion. You’ll see when you meet him. Trust me, you don’t need a ticket if you board with me. I’ve got plus-ones for life.”
“Wait a minute…did we just Gift of the Magi each other?” The old story was even better with a Hanukkah and tzedakah twist. “And the Schnee family, too?”
Avi’s expression changed, so minutely she barely caught it. “Yeah…I suppose we did.”
Avi lay in his bunk, staring at the glow stars stuck to the bottom of Leah's bed above him, his fingers tracing the empty chain at his throat. The ring he'd carried across the country was gone now, turning his ending into a fresh start for someone else.
Tomorrow, he'd bring Leah on board the Baller cruise as his plus one, setting her up for a new beginning—just not his own. The irony was not lost on him. And yet, deep down, he couldn't shake the lingering hope that maybe, just maybe, she might choose him instead. Letting go of Sylvie's ring was one thing, but letting Leah go was another—one that he wasn't ready for, even if he had to pretend he was.
He’d asked her once how he could prove he wasn’t the kind of guy who’d hurt her. This was his answer: keeping his promise, even if it meant letting her go. If that meant standing alone on the Baller tomorrow night, staring at the stars and trying to forget her smile, he’d manage.
This was about Leah, about keeping his promise—not what he wanted.