As he said it, he envisioned it. Like he had many times over. Buying a place of his own. Not in Baltimore, but closer to his friends. Something with lots of windows and late afternoon light while he composed.
Sylvie had appeared less and less in those visions over the last year, until he couldn’t see her there at all anymore. She wanted the excitement, capturing the music, the fans, the road…and always,alwayshim. Soaking up all the passion and energy and emotion like an empathic vampire.
“So,” Leah prompted softly. “Never in the right place, right time?”
“Exactly.” He met her eyes. “Until Vegas. Or so I thought. The second the words left my mouth, I just knew. Wrong move.” Avi gave a slow headshake. “Not because I don’t love her – God, that would be far easier. It’s just...” He pinched his lip in thought. “People talk about soulmates…twin flames. But maybe those aren’t the people we’re meant to end up with. Maybe they’re meant to push us, challenge us, make us better... and then we have to let go.”
Leah looked lost in thought. No doubt wondering if these were his own conclusions or Sylvie’s. Avi barely remembered at this point.
“It’s been two months since we broke up, for good this time. But I haven’t seen her – or any of my crew since.”
“Are you worried about what it’ll do to your friend group now that you’ve ended things?” she asked.
The million-dollar question.
“I think that’s another story for another day, for another piece of rugelach.” He twisted his lips into a passable grin. “Your turn now. Rugelach foryourthoughts, Leah Gellman. Retroactively. ‘Cuz this dynamic is feeling just about as lopsided as poor Bertha.”
Would she open up just a little to him?
Leah sighed. “Fair enough. I was hiding something on my playlist. Painted Doors’ latest album, which I think is pretty awesome and mostly your handiwork.”
He grinned. A bit of a cop-out, but a start.
“Also, you asked me what I did when I wasn’t picking up random strangers.”
She was slow to finish her last bite, as if savoring the comfort of the chocolate before swallowing and laying out the rest of her confession.
“I’m a barista back in Ohio, making fifteen bucks an hour, but great tips. So that I can have my evenings free to stay home and make art. Or visit the senior home…because my dad is there. Not only because he’s clergy, but because he’s a resident. In long-term care.”
Cantor Joel?Avi’s heart lurched.
“His diabetes had gotten to the point where he needed skilled help, not a frantic daughter. He couldn’t come pick you up, Avi, because he can no longer drive. And he no longer tutors kids like you on Wednesdays. He has weekly dialysis.”
The thought of his mentor in some nursing care facility gutted him. Guilt and shame mixed a potent cocktail in his belly as he recalled all the years of merrily touring through Ohio, not even bothering to check in.
Leah had that glassy look in her eyes again, like she had in the mall food court when they were debating bucket list definitions. “And I was angry at you when you first got in the car because I had expected you to know all of this somehow. Without having to tell you. Which wasn’t fair.”
Avi swore under his breath. “I wish I knew…and I should’ve been keeping in touch, Leah. That is on me, too. I promise, no matter what. I will not wait until I am stranded at the side of the road again to call him.”
She wiped the tears, nodding, and laughed when he added, “And you don’t get more rugelach for being so extra during your turn.”
Snow began to fall harder, creating a cocoon around their shared confidence.
“I say we call an Uber and deal with all of this in the morning.”
Even if they managed to get the car fixed, back on the road, and beat the storm tonight, they’d be too tired to make it very far.
Leah’s expression soured. The spell broken, no doubt remembering it was his fault why they were having to deal with this – and with each other – at all.
“Abandon Bertha at her time of need?”
“We can’t keep the car running all night.” Even though it was quite toasty inside. And the heavenly scent trifecta of chocolate, vanilla, and cinnamon from the newly discovered rugelach had released, stronger than ever, from the tin.
Avi had heard too many stories of what could go wrong in a car, in a storm.
He slid out of the big fur coat, then unzipped his hoodie and shed that as well. He was halfway to pulling his T-shirt off when Leah’s hands yanked on the hem.
“What are you doing?”
