“Let’s get out of here.”
They skirted past the small crowd now chattering about where to eat and who was driving. Phil gave them a small smile, and Red Kippah waved in thanks.
Avi grabbed their coats, fishing the keys to Bertha from her pocket. “My turn.”
It was evident, as they sped up the hill away from the temple and in the opposite direction of the interstate, that Avi was talking about more than just driving.
He pulled into the long driveway of a white Colonial, black shutters on its many windows and a lemon yellow door.
“You showed me yours. I wanna show you mine.”
“Are you sure we should?” Leah glanced anxiously toward the neighboring houses.
Avi fished the spare key out of the flowerbox in the window closest to the door. “My dad and stepmom are at her daughter’s in Arizona for the holiday.”
According to the minyan making small talk on thebimahafter the service, Hazzan Wolfson and wife went every Hanukkah for the last four years. Since Avi hadn’t spoken much to his father in the last seven, this was news to him.
“When did your dad remarry?” Leah asked, holding the storm door open for him.
“About eight years now? She was widowed too, three grown kids.” Perfectly nice, but he didn’t feel the need for a “forced family,” not when he had his found family to sustain him.
A whooping blare greeted them. “Shit, I forgot about the alarm!”
Panic zipped through him, causing his fingers to shake as he punched in his mother’s four-digit birth year. “He always used – ”Shit, he’d changed it?He tried 1969 again, but the blaring did not stop.
“Try an anniversary?” Leah hollered above the din. “Your birthday?”
“My dad could never remember an anniversary. And my birth probably isn’t something hewantsto remember.”
He pictured the alarm company calling Arizona, the cop cars descending. Breaking and entering being added to his list of transgressions. Out of sheer desperation, he punched in his birthday, and the blessed silence that followed was practically deafening.
“Huh.”
“Huh,” Leah mocked, carefully removing her boots and setting them aside. Avi did the same, and they crept into his childhood home.
He tried to see the place through Leah’s eyes, imagining someone’s first time here. In some ways, it wasn’t hard. He didn’t recognize the new family room furniture, the fancy kitchen appliances – kosher houses often had two dishwashers, two ranges. These were top of the line. Other things hadn’t changed – the Judaica in the china cabinet, the bookshelves crammed to bursting, his father’s marble chess board, all set for a match.
Leah bit her lip. “Can I see your room?”
They made their way upstairs. To his shock, it was exactly how he had left it, untouched, all those years ago. Well, cleanerand neater. But the rock posters, stacks of records. Leah walked in, turning in circles.
“If I close my eyes… I can almost smell your Axe body spray.”
“Very funny, Gellman.” He opened his closet, feeling like a game show contestant.What’s behind door number one? Avi Wolfson’s teenage dirtbag wardrobe!Sure enough, his rock Ts, his sneaker collection, even the suit he wore to Miri’s funeral.
“Since the boat runs on ‘diesel,’ shouldn’t I wear the jeans?” Avi held up some sort of tight acid-washed Y2K-styled pair, laughing.
“First the alarm code, now this time capsule?” Leah said, all joking aside. “I think your dad is a bit more sentimental than you know.”
Your dad would be so proud.
Those had been Phil’s words, the widower. After they had said their final amen.
“I think,” Avi blew out a breath. Swallowed hard. “I think it’s all my stepmom. Wouldn’t be surprised if she charged fans admission to the shrine.”
“Let’s see the rest of the house.”
Chapter Twenty
