“You don’t want my ugly feet in the shot.”
“I want all your ugly, and all your pretty. What are you smirking about?”
“Got something for you, come’ere.”
He shook his head to clear the memory. He never saw the pictures from that night in Vegas, never knew if she even kept them.
Now, she was trailing her lens through the crowd, toward the huge menorah Jay was about to light. Avi caught sight of Jonah near the ladder, watching Jay ascend. Talia’s curls, and the up-dos of Nora and Libby, glammed to the hilt. Lamps all around threw off heat and light, but the menorah was the star of the show: A twelve-foot custom-made hanukkiah with stained glass “flames” to light up the winter harbor.
“It’s no donut and glowstick, but it’ll do.”
Avi turned to find a vision before him. Not that she hadn’t stunned him in the rest area the moment he had opened his eyes to find her, standing over him.
His eyes took in the dress, showcasing her delicate tattoos in the best way. The curls captured in a long dark braid. Her shoes that still didn’t quite bring her to his eye level, but made her a perfect forehead-kissing height.
He didn’t dare get that close to her now. He just needed to keep admiring her from afar.
And he realized he wanted to keep watching her cross things off that list of hers. Or, at least, hear about where that bucket list took her next.
But for now, as the third candle of Hanukkah was about to be lit, it felt like they were truly where they were meant to be.
Meant to be.
After all those miles. And detours. And strange but sweet twists of fate.
Starting from Kismet, Ohio and ending up on the Baller.
“Hey, looks like we’re on the same boat.”
“In it, on it,” she waved a hand. “You clean up nice, Avigdor.”
He ran a hand self-consciously over his pulled back hair. No shaggy mane to hide behind. He still hadn’t added his bow tie, but that was okay.
Jay had finished his long speech that had been getting laughs and cheers the entire time. And was finally doing the deed of illuminating the harbor, and filling it with the ancient, familiar prayers. Avi grabbed her hand and together, they wove through the crowd to get closer and lend their voices as well.
“Happy third night, Gellman.” He needed no gifts from her tonight, he truly had everything he needed right here.
The Matzo Baller was a sumptuous feast, after the makeshift meals they’d scarfed down on the road. Leah’s plate was filledto bursting again and again with the Jewish Grandma’s famous kugel ravioli, brisket, and latkes of course. From their mall food court samples and venue catering, to the Bit O’ honey danish, JCC festival food and Sarit’s challah breakfast; none of it touched Talia’s level…maybe except for the memories.
Leah waited out the line at the bar for one of those Hanukkah-lada concoctions deemed divine by the woman in the gallery. Perhaps even more intoxicating than the drink was watching Asher, the bartender, as he spun bottles and poured from the highest level with expert precision. It was entertainment just as over the top as the champagne tower and aerialist above it. The performer had only broken her routine and character to give Avi the biggest smile and a wave.
Although he was pulled here and there for a selfie, or this way and that way by his friends throughout the evening, Avi mostly seemed content to stay by her side.
As for Leah, most thoughts of wooing Mahjong investors were long gone. She’d given away half the sets to the wrong people, who were actually therightpeople, in her mind. And even though she had no rugelach in hand to deliver, Mrs. Ackerman’s pastryhadbrought two people closer together.
Leah couldn’t control her grin at the thought of that. Not theshidduchthe old woman had imagined, but it sounded like Hersh needed no help.
Fun blue drink in hand, she walked into the karaoke room, only to find Avi on stage with Jonah, Jay, and a pert stylish old lady, someone’sbubbe, no doubt. “That’s the Menorah Matchmaker!” Someone close by gabbed with their friend. They were belting out Broadway tunes and lavishing attention on her.
Worth the price of admission, she thought, grinning. Except she was the rock star’s plus-one tonight.
Avi jumped down from the stage and ambled over. “So long story short, I’m being auctioned off to the highest bidder for athree-song acoustic set tonight in twenty minutes. You’ll stick around to watch, right? Then we’ll hit the dessert bar?” He dipped in for a kiss, as if the offer needed any more sweetness.
“Captive audience,” she murmured against his lips.
“I have to grab my guitar – think you could snag me a coffee? I’ll owe you forever.”
“Holding you to it.” She laughed as his arm slid around her waist, the sleek fabric of his tux jacket brushing deliciously against the bare curve of her back.
