Chapter Thirty-Six
David was doing his best to enjoy his last night of Hanukkah in the city with his family. Having just returned from vacation in Florida, both Danielle and Robert were sporting tans, and Jesse was eager to open her last present for the holiday.
Standing together in the kitchen, they gathered around the menorah, following in the tradition of his parents.
After saying the blessings, Robert passed the shamash, or helper candle, around, allowing each person the opportunity to light some of the candles.
David tried to focus on the present with his family.
It was a blessing to be together. To find the time—despite busy work schedules and vacation—with all of them healthy.
He tried to remember that.
But he couldn’t stop thinking about Evelyn.
“Amen!” Danielle said as the final candle was lit. She turned to grab a box of store-bought powdered jelly donuts resting on the counter. “Here you go,” she said, opening it up, setting one each onto a plate, before turning to him. “David, you want?”
David patted his belly. “I think I’ve had enough sufganiyot for one season.”
“Uncle David!” He looked down to see Jesse tugging on his sleeve, her big blue doe eyes staring up at him sweetly. “Can I have my present now?”
He bent down to meet her gaze, all serious. “Absolutely.”
Jesse screamed and then, nearly bouncing out of her Hanukkah socks, sprinted off to retrieve it from the living room, where it had been waiting for her all week.
The action gave Robert just enough time to wrap one arm around Danielle, and for Danielle to lean in for a kiss, before Jesse returned again.
“Okay, okay,” she said, putting the wrapped gift on the counter. “This is really happening now.” Everybody laughed, and then she tore open her gift, revealing a large do-it-yourself craft kit. “Whoa!” she said, rummaging through the items. “What is it?”
David explained, “It’s everything you need to make your own mezuzah.”
“Really?”
“Yep.” He explained, showcasing the items, “There’s the mezuzah itself, and then all the crafts and supplies you could need to make it your own.”
“Whoa,” she said excitedly.
“David.” His sister peered over Jesse’s shoulder. “This is really cool.”
It was a pretty cool gift. He’d had to source and woodwork many of the items himself to make it happen.
He had also stockpiled it with all manner of paint, glitter and decorative acrylic.
He had landed on the idea of it while shopping, after he decided that the last thing Jesse needed was another toy or sweater.
A piece of Judaica, however—especially a mezuzah—remained bonded to a home forever.
Plus, there were many who believed they offered spiritual protection.
“But, Uncle David,” Jesse said thoughtfully. “I already have a mezuzah on my door.”
“I know,” he said, and bent down to explain his thinking.
“Which is why this mezuzah will be for my home. The next time you come over, we can affix it to the room where you stay. There’s one for you, and one for your mom and dad.
I figured that way you would know that you’re safe and always, always welcome. ”
“Oh, David.” Danielle touched her heart.
“But what about when I’m not there?” Jesse asked.
“Well, that’s simple.” He smiled and touched the tip of her nose playfully. “It’s so that wherever you go, whoever you become . . . I’ll see that mezuzah, and think of you.”
Jesse threw her arms around him in a tight embrace, and then promptly turned to her father. “Can we make a mezuzah now?”
Robert glanced at Danielle. “I don’t see why not, right?”
Jesse jumped up and down in excitement. Moments later, they were off, leaving David and his sister in the kitchen alone to talk. She waited for a beat of quiet, and then turned to a kettle sitting on the counter. “You want some tea?’
“I’m okay.”
He wasn’t okay. Danielle could sense it.
“So,” Danielle said, leaning on the counter. “The week went well, then?”
He grimaced. “Not really.”
He tried his best to explain the last eight days of Hanukkah. He went through the whole sordid tale, from dating Claire, to kissing Evelyn, to winding up in a hospital with her suffering from delusions. When he was done, Evelyn was sitting at the counter beside him, speechless.
“I know what you’re going to say.”
Her eyes went wide. “What am I going to say?”
“That it’s a horrible idea to hook up with your ex-wife. That we didn’t work out once, so why in the hell would we even attempt trying again? That she’s never going to change, and I need to move on with my life.”
Danielle shook her head. “That isn’t what I was going to say.”
“Really?” It surprised him.
“Actually—” she edged in closer “—I was going to ask if you still care about her.”
The question made his whole chest ache. “I . . . I love her. I think I’ve always loved her.”
“And Evelyn? Do you think she still loves you?”
“I think so. Yes.”
“Well, this is getting complicated.”
David couldn’t help but laugh. Danielle laid one hand on his wrist in solidarity. “You know,” David said, quietly. “There’s this old saying from the Talmud. When a man divorces his first wife, the altar sheds tears. I think about that saying all the time. I think about how . . . I failed everyone.”
“Oh, David.” Her eyebrows pinched together. “You’re being way too hard on yourself.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.” She didn’t hesitate. “And also, Judaism totally allows for divorce, especially in situations where the marriage was considered irreparably broken. Believe it or not, even some of our best and brightest sages had terrible marriages.”
“I know, but—”
“Look,” she said, cutting him off again.
“You and Evelyn went through something terrible, and instead of growing stronger together, you fell apart. She buried herself in work and you moved to Pennsylvania. You both ran away from your hurt instead of facing it. But that’s not right or wrong—that’s two people in pain.
God isn’t judging you, David. God is crying with you both. ”
He raised one eyebrow at his sister. “How did you get so wise?”
She smirked. “Lifelong disability and pain, and because every cloud has a silver lining. My silver lining is you, being your big sister. Bossing you around, telling you what to do, sharing my knowledge as an elder. It’s hard to be this wise and beautiful.”
He laughed, and Danielle smiled, and the room fell into silence once again. His eyes drifted over to the menorah. Pink, yellow and blue wax dripped down the nine branches and onto aluminum foil.
“I want you to be happy, David. I want Evelyn to be happy, too. Neither of you are bad people, okay? There’s no enemy or villain in this story.
It’s just life. And sometimes, life is really freaking sad.
But if you love her, and she loves you, if you’re both willing to stop running away and do the work, then maybe .
. . you can love each other enough to move forward. ”
“A new beginning, huh?”
“We can’t change the past,” she said directly. “But we also don’t have to live there.”
He nodded, because his sister was right.
They had both been living in the past, dragging it around wherever they went, kicking and screaming.
But it had been two years, and he needed to move on—with or without Evelyn.
At the same time, there had been cracks in their marriage from the beginning.
Though David was willing to do the work—go to therapy and couples’ counseling—Evelyn wasn’t.
He exhaled deeply. “I think it would take a miracle for Evelyn and me to get back together.”
“Well, then,” Danielle said, squeezing his hand. “Good thing it’s still Hanukkah.”