“Never mind. I guess there’s no point in waiting in the car any longer. If I’m going to face the firehose of criticism, best get it over with sooner so at least I’ll have time to dry off later.” She could already hear how it was going to go. The questions about her little candy business, whether she’d looked at any of those new housing developments offering rent-to-own options, and what her plans were now that she’d turned thirty, essentially serving all the standard when are you finally going to start adulting fare.
As if there were a drastic difference in her schedule between the final Tuesday of her twenties and the first Wednesday of her thirties, other than that Wednesday was laundry day.
Which she was notably missing so she could party it up with latkes, hopefully decent liquor, and a cupcake if she was lucky.
Marisa hitched her handbag strap higher and reached for the door handle, but Alec stopped her.
“Wait. I’ve got something for you before we go in.” Alec rose and twisted his torso around so he could reach the back.
That left Marisa at eye height with a wall of muscle that seemed to be doing its level best to make itself known through the thin veil of silk concealing it. The proximity to all that strength pulled up fiery goose bumps along the back of her neck, especially as he adjusted himself and the fabric stretched even tauter, letting her see every lower ripple of his stomach as they tightened before he settled back into his seat with a rectangular box in his hands.
“Happy birthday, Marisa,” he said cheerfully as he handed her over a silvery package wrapped in a dark blue ribbon.
“You didn’t have to get me a present.”
He shrugged as much as the car’s tight confines would allow his large shoulders. “This may be my first Hanukkah party, but it’s sure as hell not my first birthday party. I know better than to greet the birthday girl’s mother without having given her daughter a birthday present. I’m not that insane. I’ve got a mum, too, you know.”
Smiling, Marisa held the gift up to her ear and shook it slightly. “It’s clanking, sort of. Is it metal?” Then a wash of horror overtook her as her suspicion landed on another item. “Oh, God, it’s not jewelry, is it? Because we never agreed on anything like that. It goes way beyond the bounds of what we?—”
Alec narrowed his eyes and put his hand over hers, bringing the gift safely back down to her lap. “Just open your present, woman.”
“All right, all right. No need to get all growly about it.”
“I’m not bloody growly.”
“He said with a growl.”
“Will you open your damn gift already?”
“Fine. Yes. Thank you. But you do snarl sometimes. Just saying.” Marisa pointedly ignored the eye roll Alec tossed her way while she slid a finger beneath the wrapping paper and ribbon.
He’d gotten her a present? An actual present?
But no amount of anticipation could have prepared her for what she found inside.
Her breath sawed in and out of her chest, and her eyes got to work ruining her carefully applied mascara with the single-minded efficiency of Christmas elves.
Within the carefully molded plastic packaging sat three shiny and rather unassuming metal cookie cutters. They were made of the same stainless steel as any other cookie cutter might be, with their dangerously flimsy framework and in-no-way-dishwasher-friendly coating. Wholly ordinary, except for their shapes.
A menorah, a dreidel, and a Star of David.
While Marisa sat there, shocked into stillness, Alec carefully cleared the brush of wrapping detritus from her lap. “I don’t know what your plans are for the treats you’ll be making for the Christmas Ball, but I can honestly say—and most red-blooded men would agree with me on this, I wager—that I didn’t much care for the way you were going all gooey-eyed over that sugar hook thing your friends gave you. I didn’t know whether you wanted to kiss it, kill with it, or castrate the next poor bastard who looked at you wrong. Instead, I figured these might suit you just fine. And to be clear, I’m not saying you need to use them for the Ball or anything. There are only three cutters, and I imagine you’ve got grander plans for your big reveal than what these wee things can help you achieve, but they were amusing and reminded me of you.” Then he covered her hand, the one not stroking soft pets through the plastic along the menorah’s shamash, and squeezed his comfort into her. “You have a beautiful heart, Marisa, and you want to make people smile with your work. That’s something worth defending and something any family should be proud of.”
Marisa held the small symbols of her life—for that was exactly what they were, a grossly mismatched mix of who she was and what she loved—closer to her chest, doing her best to release her throat from the tightness her unbidden emotions were inflicting upon it.
In the end, the only remaining avenue was a single nod of thanks.
“You’re welcome.” Alec pulsed her hand again. The gentle pressure in his touch was warm and weighty, anchoring her to the tiny moment where she was locked safely in his car, holding to her heart the baking equivalent of her blueberry candy canes, and could just exist, without explanation, in the magic of the moment.
Of the season.
Of his kindness.
Of his presence.
She still hadn’t said anything, but the effort was massively hindered by the man sitting next to her, balling up the wrapping paper and ribbon in one hand and silently supporting her with the other. In the cocoon of their little car cave, she could finally see him in a way she hadn’t before. There was something about the windows around them, the darkness shadowing the car that allowed for them to look out at the world, but not for the world to look in, that made her feel as if she were truly sharing a special secret with Alec, one that went far beyond the lie they’d agreed to front for both their sakes.
And he knew it, too, she suspected, or at least knew something he wasn’t prepared to share with her just yet.
