“I’d swap spit with that guy any day,” said the woman plating. The egg-whisking trio sighed in agreement. “Avi, I mean. Your husband is safe, Esther!”
The women dissolved into laughter, bantering back and forth about the merits of a rock god in leather pants.
“Here, go feed your man.” Leah’s squeeze partner nudged two plates toward her. “Hope we didn’t scare you off with our antics. Just blowing off steam. Or fryer fumes.” She smiled. “Hope to see you again soon. I’m Sarit. Come for yoga! We also have a book club once a month.”
“I’d love that,” Leah said truthfully. If only everything else wasn’t such a lie. In another life, this could be her reality. “Mahjong league?”
Her new friend’s eyes danced. “President.” She slapped her chest, laughing. “You play?”
Oh, Sarit. You have no idea.
Leah held the plates high as she wound through the crowd toward the karaoke area. Avi had a sizable line, but a few dad-types had stepped in to help.
“Looks like you’ve earned these.”
Avi gratefully accepted a steaming plate, and they made their way over to the toppings bar. “Once we laid down some ground rules. No mic hogging, no long songs, no forcing anyone.”
“And none of that godforsaken Sainted S’mores music?” Leah baited, helping herself to a big scoop of sour cream.
“Hmm, that CD seemed to have been misplaced. So no, none of that. Sauce me?”
Avi held his plate steady so she could ladle some applesauce on. “Wow, so this must be the palooza part. Impressive.”
The toppings bar had not just the traditional items but an array of interesting combinations, like pomegranate and honey, orange marmalade and ricotta, yogurt and cucumber, and even tahini and red pepper jelly. They loaded up their plates and found empty seats at the end of one of the long tables lining the gym’s perimeter.
“While you’ve been reliving your beatbox days, I’ve been up to my wrists in frozen potato slush.” Leah held up her palms for Avi to inspect. “And that was after the PTSD from balloon poodles popping in my face. Thank goodness Sam the jeweler slash Rinkles the clown came along.”
“Ah, poor Esther.” Avi ran his thumbs over the pads of her fingers. They were prunes, like she had soaked too long in the bathtub.
He ducked his head and pressed a gentle kiss in the exact center of her left palm, and then her right. It was a bullseye that shot heat straight to her core.
“I feel like that was something Julian would do.” His voice was gravelly. “And something Esther might like.”
The gym was full-on Hanukkah chaos, but Avi found himself enjoying being in the middle of it all, watching as families greeted families, kids moved in excited packs from activity to activity, and food flowed endlessly.
And the sheer randomness of being there with Leah, scarfing down potato pancakes on a Thursday afternoon? More than enjoyable.
She looked damn adorable in her hat, identical to his except for its logo, which readBut first…latkes.And those little shrieks that dissolved into peals of laughter after every balloon pop had kept him smiling through even the most cringe-worthy of karaoke songs.
His eyes had sought her out more than once as she’d leaned down to catch each child’s balloon request, tackling even the impossible with gusto. Knowing it wasn’t going to be perfect, but attempting it anyway.
Perhaps that was why, when she offered up her raw and wrinkled hands, he’d claimed them. Their situation, being stuck on a road trip together, wasn’t perfect. The two of them as a couple…pretty impossible. But why not let the moment take a few unexpected twists?
You could brace for it, Avi surmised, or you could embrace it.
He knew he was taking the analogy a balloon too far, but the bubble they’d been in ever since that first mile was just as fragile and thrilling. Bound to pop at some point, but…
Leah’s dark doe eyes flashed up at him from beneath the brim of her trucker cap. “Julian is very observant.”
Watching her, watching him as he continued to trace his thumbs across every delicate line.
“Get a room, you two.”
The dark-haired woman smirked as she brushed by, holding plates of latkes high overhead as she navigated a path to where a smiling man and three young girls sat, eagerly awaiting her arrival.
“That’s Sarit,” Leah explained. “We bonded in the kitchen over latke mush and talk of your leather pants.”
Avi almost choked on his final bite. “Mywhat?”
