Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
T he guys in his crew gathered, once Jay recovered from his big night, for a Baller de-brief every year. Since Asher was now an integral part of their mishpacha , his Chelsea bar played host that weekend. The guys decamped to the small patio bar out back to smoke cigars and recap the highlights.
Of course, Jay and Jonah wanted all the tea on Leah. And the doctor. And Sylvie…especially once they learned that one of the outlandish rumors spun about Avi over the past two months was more fact than fiction.
“A proposal? I can’t believe you two managed to keep that from us.” Jonah was incredulous. “Surely the girls all knew?”
“Not necessarily,” Jay mused. “The two of them have always been more alike with their – ” He waved a hand through the air for emphasis, or to clear the pungent smoke. “ – opaque personalities.”
“Face it.” Jonah stood, hands on hips where his ugly Hanukkah sweater hem met his jeans. Fully recovered from his hangover and the bump to his head. “You were almost in a big, six-sided polygon.” He clamped down on the cigar between his teeth. “A sextangle.”
Asher started collecting some of their empty glasses in a bus tub. “I think you mean hex . Hex is six.”
“It’s like the Magen David of love triangles,” Jonah continued. “You, Leah and Sylvie…” He traced the obnoxious sweater’s triangles one way, and then the other. “…and Leah, you and Dr. Rugelach.”
Jay warmed his hands over the fire pit table. “Isn’t that technically just a foursome?”
Avi didn’t agree with either of their bullshit calculations and good-natured ball-busting. He and Sylvie had been over for two months by the beginning of the road trip, and the doctor had never really been a contender.
The journey had been wholly him and Leah.
They’d spent their entire Saturday in bed, existing on room service and each other; Avi also ordering in Manhattan’s finest selection of bialys, black and white cookies and other delicacies, so Leah could decide which were the best to bring home to the Beth El Bucket Listers. As soon as she crossed those items off the list, he thought of delicious new items to add – nothing having to do with food.
All the silver platters and shiny domes had reminded Avi of the interview in Ohio, being asked if he knew the world was his oyster. Leah had been so close that night, and yet the furthest thing from his mind, or his wildest dreams.
His phone began bleating next to his elbow on the bar top. Speak of the devil – it was Josie, the journalist working on the magazine retrospective.
“Avi,” her voice was warm and upbeat. “I just wanted to thank you for making yourself available to Sylvie. She sent us the final photo, and we love it. It’s perfect.”
Avi sat up straight on his bar stool. “Uh… no problem?” His voice tilted upward in confusion. “How’s the shot?” He could feel Jonah, Jay, and Asher all watching him.
“You haven’t seen it?”
“Are you sure it’s a new one?”
“Positive. It’s stunning, Avi. She really captured your essence. I’ll text it to you now.”
A beat later, his phone buzzed with the incoming image. Avi tapped the screen, and the photo filled the display.
It stopped him cold.
He was on the deck of the Baller, leaning casually in his tux against the railing. The bow tie’s absence keeping it real. A few dark strands of hair had escaped his bun in the breeze. But it wasn’t the clothes or the setting that hit him.
It was his face .
Sylvie had caught him mid-turn, just as his gaze locked on something— someone —out of frame. His eyes held a mix of surprise, admiration, and something deeper, something unguarded. Vulnerability. Wonder.
Leah. It was the exact moment he’d seen Leah in that emerald ballgown, her curls swept to the side, stepping out onto the deck that night.
He stared at the photo, throat tightening. Somehow, Sylvie had captured what he hadn’t even realized was written all over his face.
“Avi?” Josie prompted. “Did you get it?”
“Yeah,” he said hoarsely, his thumb brushing over the image. “Yeah, I got it.”
“Isn’t it incredible?” she went on, oblivious to his stunned silence. “It’s such a powerful shot. Raw, intimate, and very ‘of the moment,’ just like we wanted.”
“Yeah,” Avi murmured. “It’s… perfect.”
“Can I also quote you on what you said on stage? I’ve seen the footage. About love, and time?”
He slowly rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. “That was a bit off-script,” he chuckled. “But sure.”
They wrapped up the call, the journalist buzzing about deadlines and layouts while Avi was lost in thought. He sat there, phone still in his hand, staring at the photo, long after he’d ended the call.
“Yo. You okay, bro?” Jonah sat down next to him, while Asher nudged another drink his way.
Sylvie. She’d known. And now, she’d given him this. A quiet blessing.
“Yeah, I think so.” A smile tugged his lips, wondering if Leah had seen it “in the moment” too.
He hugged his buds, promising to see them soon, and headed uptown.
The hotel had been great for post-Baller recovery, but he and Leah were settling into an Airbnb for the rest of the holiday – one with a full kitchen. Leah was making brisket and latkes tonight, courtesy of Mrs. Horowitz’s recipes.
They were also going to bake a batch of rugelach together. Just for them.
Sure, in a way it felt like playing house. But, like Leah had described Mahjong, it was more than just a game. It was home, family, belonging. And for the first time, he knew where to find it—right by her side.