Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
A vi watched as people poured on to the deck from every doorway, crack and crevice.
Would he recognize her if he saw her?
And because his brain liked to play devil’s advocate, it mocked Who? Leah? Or Sylvie?
He hadn’t seen Sylvie in two months. The sound, shape, and movements of her, however, were encoded deep in his neural pathways like a habit, formed and reinforced over time.
Sylvie knew every inch of this boat, having taken photos from just about every angle. Some years, he barely saw her all evening, only to find she’d captured every moment of joy, drama, celebration and excess that was uniquely on brand for the Baller – eight hours distilled into a carefully curated collection that she added to her growing portfolio.
Other years, she made herself available in every way – fully present. Camera forgotten. Or, at least, rigged on some hidden tripod and trigger remote so she could be a part of the photographic proof by night’s end.
Which Sylvie was on board tonight?
His senses lit up like a slot machine as his gaze caught something familiar flitting around the outskirts of the crowd. No wonder Vegas had been such a trigger for him. Sylvie herself was like that elusive jackpot you kept trying for, even after you’ve been left high and dry and busted, time and again.
She had her camera in hand, but she hadn’t seen him yet. He watched as she paused, lifting the lens in contemplation. Whatever shot she took, she took a quick look at the screen before continuing. Avi had always loved to watch her work – she was practically a work of art herself, a pose catching a pose. She was at her most peaceful and grounded.
“ Stop with the photos, Syl. Come here, I want to ask you something.”
“One more…just against that headboard. Move your foot. No, closer not away.”
“You don’t want my ugly feet in the shot.”
“I want all your ugly, and all your pretty. What are you smirking about?”
“Got something for you, come’ere.”
He shook his head to clear the memory. He never saw the pictures from that night in Vegas, never knew if she even kept them.
Now, she was trailing her lens through the crowd, toward the huge menorah Jay was about to light. Avi caught sight of Jonah near the ladder, watching Jay ascend. Talia’s curls, and the up-dos of Nora and Libby, glammed to the hilt. Lamps all around threw off heat and light, but the menorah was the star of the show: A twelve-foot custom-made hanukkiah with stained glass “flames” to light up the winter harbor.
“It’s no donut and glowstick, but it’ll do.”
Avi turned to find a vision before him. Not that she hadn’t stunned him in the rest area the moment he had opened his eyes to find her, standing over him.
His eyes took in the dress, showcasing her delicate tattoos in the best way. The curls captured in a long dark braid. Her shoes that still didn’t quite bring her to his eye level, but made her a perfect forehead-kissing height.
He didn’t dare get that close to her now. He just needed to keep admiring her from afar.
And he realized he wanted to keep watching her cross things off that list of hers. Or, at least, hear about where that bucket list took her next.
But for now, as the third candle of Hanukkah was about to be lit, it felt like they were truly where they were meant to be.
Meant to be.
After all those miles. And detours. And strange but sweet twists of fate.
Starting from Kismet, Ohio and ending up on the Baller.
“Hey, looks like we’re on the same boat.”
“In it, on it,” she waved a hand. “You clean up nice, Avigdor.”
He ran a hand self-consciously over his pulled back hair. No shaggy mane to hide behind. He still hadn’t added his bow tie, but that was okay.
Jay had finished his long speech that had been getting laughs and cheers the entire time. And was finally doing the deed of illuminating the harbor, and filling it with the ancient, familiar prayers. Avi grabbed her hand and together, they wove through the crowd to get closer and lend their voices as well.
“Happy third night, Gellman.” He needed no gifts from her tonight, he truly had everything he needed right here.
The Matzo Baller was a sumptuous feast, after the makeshift meals they’d scarfed down on the road. Leah’s plate was filled to bursting again and again with the Jewish Grandma’s famous kugel ravioli, brisket, and latkes of course. From their mall food court samples and venue catering, to the Bit O’ honey danish, JCC festival food and Sarit’s challah breakfast; none of it touched Talia’s level…maybe except for the memories.
Leah waited out the line at the bar for one of those Hanukkah-lada concoctions deemed divine by the woman in the gallery. Perhaps even more intoxicating than the drink was watching Asher, the bartender, as he spun bottles and poured from the highest level with expert precision. It was entertainment just as over the top as the champagne tower and aerialist above it. The performer had only broken her routine and character to give Avi the biggest smile and a wave.
Although he was pulled here and there for a selfie, or this way and that way by his friends throughout the evening, Avi mostly seemed content to stay by her side.
As for Leah, most thoughts of wooing Mahjong investors were long gone. She’d given away half the sets to the wrong people, who were actually the right people, in her mind. And even though she had no rugelach in hand to deliver, Mrs. Ackerman’s pastry had brought two people closer together.
Leah couldn’t control her grin at the thought of that. Not the shidduch the old woman had imagined, but it sounded like Hersh needed no help.
Fun blue drink in hand, she walked into the karaoke room, only to find Avi on stage with Jonah, Jay, and a pert stylish old lady, someone’s bubbe , no doubt. “That’s the Menorah Matchmaker!” Someone close by gabbed with their friend. They were belting out Broadway tunes and lavishing attention on her.
Worth the price of admission , she thought, grinning. Except she was the rock star’s plus-one tonight.
Avi jumped down from the stage and ambled over. “So long story short, I’m being auctioned off to the highest bidder for a three-song acoustic set tonight in twenty minutes. You’ll stick around to watch, right? Then we’ll hit the dessert bar?” He dipped in for a kiss, as if the offer needed any more sweetness.
“Captive audience,” she murmured against his lips.
“I have to grab my guitar – think you could snag me a coffee? I’ll owe you forever.”
“Holding you to it.” She laughed as his arm slid around her waist, the sleek fabric of his tux jacket brushing deliciously against the bare curve of her back.
They parted ways by the energy bar, where Vitamin B drinks were keeping people going as midnight approached. Its bright neon reminded Leah of their glowsticks from the night before. And shirtless Avi, glowing blue under the wave of her light. That first kiss.
She was still saving him that first dance, but the night had already been such a whirlwind. And more amazing than she ever could’ve imagined.