A baby makes three.
Three candles for the three of them.
“Nah. I gotta…” He thumbed behind him. “I’m still parked in the loading zone, and…the meatballs are thawing on my front seat.” He gave her one last hug. “Please tell me you’ll name this baby ÄLSKVÄRD. Because that sounds bad-ass.”
Nora kissed his cheek. “No promises.”
Jonah took a detour home, heading uptown to see if he could catch the big public menorah near Central Park being lit. Always tons of crowds, where he could get swallowed up in the celebration. But it was rush-hour gridlock most of the way, and by the time he got close to the vicinity, he could already see its glow and zero parking to be had. Ah, well. His favorite ramen place was a few blocks east and on the way home.
Home is where the hangover is. He was still feeling the remnants of last night’s bad decisions. Flicking on the TV and kicking off his shoes, he settled in on the one piece of furniture that was not Scandinavian-design – a leather recliner that had seen better days and inherited from his parents’ family room. GiGi’s afghan hung over one of its overstuffed arms, and he pulled it over his feet. Ramen was kind of like a grown-up version of Cup O’ Noodles, right? And he had taken a sick day from work. Kind of.
The television’s bright screen cycled through a menagerie of music, gunshots, and applause as he absently flicked channels, reminding himself this was just the lull before the storm. The Matzo Baller was just two nights away, and it would be a whirlwind of social obligations.
Maybe I should get a cat. The thought flickered as the Bloom family’s resident feline stalked out of Rosie’s bedroom covered in staticky foam packing peanuts to the cue of canned laughter. He had landed on an old re-run.
Within two seconds, he recalled the entire premise: young Rosie had snooped and found where her parents had hidden the Hanukkah gifts…although the presents were all “boy things” intended for her brothers. Her real present was a purple bike in the garage.
Get a life, Jonah Klein.
But his eyes were getting heavy and his belly was full of warm noodles. His feet were the perfect temperature under the homemade blanket, and tomorrow was another day.
Chapter Four
True to her word, the sisters did “all the things” Kara had promised during their time together in Manhattan: Shopping, brunching, gossiping. And of course, the ultimate spa day. Otherwise known as a day in the life of Kara Koff.
It turned out, the chilled spoon hack had been just the tip of the iceberg. There were countless products for endless treatments, and a score of loyal, discreet staffers to carry them out. Tzipi needn’t have worried about how she was going to possibly prepare herself physically for “getting into character” in just the course of three days.
Mentally was another story.
Her skin was wrapped, scrubbed and buffed to a baby soft, healthy glow. Waxed in one place, sugared in another, and threaded until not one rogue hair remained. Nails, brought to the perfect length and impeccably lacquered. Any torturous activity was balanced by the Zen spa atmosphere, the spa lunch in fluffy robes, eucalyptus steam and hot stone massage and, well…sister time.
“Tell me again why the Matzo Baller boat is the perfect place for me to make my debut as you?” Tzipi mumbled through her polished rice and crushed pearl enzyme mask as it hardened the skin around her mouth. Her eyelids had what felt like cucumbers dipped in liquid silk saturating them, so she couldn’t even turn to look at Kara on the heated table next to her.
“You can just call it the Baller. For one, they don’t allow any press on the boat. And there are several zones where photos aren’t permitted. You’ll be seen, but not seen, if you know what I mean.”
Not exactly.
“Word of mouth will spread, of course. About all the celebs on board. People always sneak pictures. Low light, blurry, no worries. They take stories home. About their legendary Hanukkah night getting glammed up and partying at the hottest Jewish event of the year, spent in the company of famous members of the tribe. Trust me, I’m a footnote, not a highlight.” Kara chuckled. “But I’m what’s called a Lifer. An honorary OG. I’ve been on every Baller since Jay Katz dreamed up the event and opened it to the public. He’ll seek you out, by the way. Just to thank you for donating.”
Jay Katz. Tzipi did what she always did to lodge names in her brain. J is for…Jewish event planner. The Jewish event planner loves…cats. Jay Katz. Acting classes had ingrained repetition, and connection and context were key to memorizing. And visualization. She pictured a cat, wearing a Star of David and captain’s cap, sitting on the prow of the boat. Or was it the stern? Shit, she hadn’t been on a boat since Lorne’s agent took them to Catalina last summer.
“Just how big is this boat?”
“Bigger than your average sightseeing tour boat, but not like a cruise line. Like, three decks? Tons of activities, vibe rooms, food like you wouldn’t believe. If there is fried kugel ravioli, that means Talia Katz is on board. Jay’s sister. Have you heard of The Jewish Grandma? I bet Erewhon carries her frozen products back home, or Gelson’s Market. Anyway, Baller night is my cheat day. Eat anything and everything.”
Unseen hands flapped a hot towel above Tzipi’s face before deftly wrapping it and gently pressing to soften the mask. Kara continued sharing a steady stream of Baller knowledge that soaked into Tzipi like steam into her pores. She began to visualize herself on the deck, witnessing the candles being lit on the giant menorah, hearing the music. Helping herself to champagne from the tower of glasses. Dancing with…
The visualization stopped there. Realizing she was about to thrust herself into basically the largest Jewish singles event in Manhattan, she started to feel claustrophobic under the swaddled towel. Tomorrow night. She hadn’t put herself out there, out anywhere, since Lorne.
Luckily, it won’t be you.
True. She would be Kara. Aloof and lovely. Smiling and assured. Surrounded by…strangers?
Her sister hadn’t mentioned boarding the boat with anyone. Or that she was looking forward to seeing old friends. Or making new ones. Yet she could hear the fond wistfulness as her sister recalled what made the event special and unique, year after year.
“Shel and I met on the Baller, you know.”
It wasn’t until they were lounging upright across from each other, K-beauty firming sheet masks applied and sipping their detox tea, that Kara began to spill her tea about “having a moment” on the dance floor with a handsome stranger. “I never thought I’d see him again…or at least, not until the next Hanukkah if I was lucky. Imagine my surprise when he walked onto the soundstage the day we were filming that crazy action scene, remember, the one with the school bus full of kids suspended in mid-air on a gimbal rig that I had to rescue? I almost fell right out of my harness!”
