“Everything will be all right,” she promises.
I don’t believe you, Carole. Everything is not all right. Happy Goddamn Thanksgiving to me!
34
Hanukkah Gelt or Hanukkah Guilt?
The dim light of the lamp casts odd shadows across the little oak desk in my bedroom and the blank card in front of me. What I want to say is plain and simple, but I’m having trouble finding the right words to put down on paper. I lay the pen down, close my eyes, and just breathe in the brief moment of silence among the shadows in my room. I haven’t been able to find a quiet moment like this to myself since the Thanksgiving disaster. That’s the day Aunt Sarah moved in with us and commandeered my bedroom. I’ve been relocated to the living room couch. It was only supposed to be for a night or two, but it’s been over three weeks now. Fortunately, Aunt Sarah recently signed a lease on an apartment and will be moving out on New Year’s Day. She is separating from Brian and wants to file for divorce as soon as possible. So, I have been apartment hunting, not just with Dad, but with Aunt Sarah and Carole too.
Aunt Sarah’s cat, Millie, has also come to live with us, and Sammy is not happy about it. Sammy likes being the king of the castle, but with Millie living with us, he has, unfortunately, been demoted. Millie quickly let it be known there was a new sheriff in town and things were going to be different around here. After an initial skirmish, where a tuft of fur went flying, Sammy now hides under Carole’s bed most of the time, letting Millie be the queen. I miss my Sammy cat, and I worry about him.
Aunt Sarah and Carole are currently at the grocery store getting food for tonight’s last night of Hanukkah celebration. It’s wonderful to spend some alone time in my bedroom. In the past three weeks, I have only been allowed in to get clothes from my closet. I even had to start using Carole’s shower with its floral body wash and pink bath poufs. I’m counting down the days until I get my bedroom and bathroom back and Sammy can quit hiding under Carole’s bed.
The front door opens, and Carole calls out, “Simon, where are you? Come help us bring in these groceries please.”
I guess I will have to finish writing this card sometime later. Fine by me. I hide the card by tucking it into the book I’m reading and head out to the living room to help Carole and Aunt Sarah.
Our Hanukkah celebration is the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Dad, Mags, Neel, and PJ have joined us, and we are crowded around the coffee table taking turns spinning the dreidel. Hedwig and the Angry Inch is playing on the TV in the background. Aunt Sarah is horrified by the movie, but Dad thinks it’s the greatest thing since Spinal Tap.
“Nothing, I mean nothing, is better than Spinal Tap, of course,” Dad says, “but I have to admit this is a close second.”
Dad has been supportive lately and has stopped bugging me about moving in with him, so I have removed him from my shitlist. We pause the game to exchange small presents before tucking in to Carole’s famous, once-a-year potato latkes with applesauce and sour cream, Dr. Brown’s Black Cherry soda, and sufganiyot.
“What are soof-ga-noots?” asks PJ.
“Sufganiyot is the Hebrew word for jelly doughnuts. They’re a Hanukkah tradition,” I respond.
Ironically, Aunt Sarah bought these at the store instead of making them from scratch, but in this apartment, no one gives her a hard time about it. It’s way less toxic with Brian out of the picture, and I can honestly say, no one seems to be missing him. Not that Aunt Sarah is Snow White—she has a bit of a short fuse too—but she is not a villain like Brian. “No offense to the Bugg family, but this dreidel game is the cheesiest thing ever,” Mags quips. “I just don’t get it. Is this supposed to be fun?” She attempts to spin the dreidel but fails.
“Well, I’m having a blast,” PJ says, grinning at Dad and Carole.
“Suck-up,” Mags says, and she sticks her tongue out at him. “No, no, no! You don’t get to become the new favorite! It was my role long before you were ever in the picture, Mr. Pajama Pants. You got that?”
“Got it,” PJ says, winking again at Carole and Dad.
Mags tries again to spin the small blue-and-white plastic dreidel on the coffee table to no avail. It keeps getting knocked on the floor. Out of the blue, Millie comes rushing out of the kitchen and bats the dreidel away, down the hallway, and into the bathroom.
“Well, I guess this means…the cat won,” Dad says. “No worries, here, I’ve got something better…Hanukkah gelt for everyone.” He reaches into a large brown bag on the floor and tosses little gold net bags filled with foil-wrapped chocolate coins to everyone. Mags, Neel, PJ, and I immediately rip open the little sacks. We unwrap the coins and waste no time popping the chocolate into our mouths.
“Ooh, chocolate,” Neel says. “I think I love this holiday. Thanks, Mr. Bugg.”
“Wow, I remember these,” I say through a mouthful of chocolate. “I haven’t seen these since I was a little kid.”
“I know,” Dad says excitedly. “I thought it would be nostalgic. I found them at Moti’s Kosher Market not far from here. Remember, I used to give you a bag every year at Hanukkah?”
“I do remember. I remember when you stopped giving them to me too,” I say sarcastically.
“You were getting older,” Dad says sadly. “I don’t know, maybe it was a stupid idea to bring these.”
“Simon, that was very rude,” Aunt Sarah says. “Apologize to your father.”
But before I can open my mouth, Dad says, “No, it’s fine, Sarah. Leave him be. He’s right. I deserve it. I was an absent father. But I’m trying to make up for it now, and I truly appreciate you including me in this celebration tonight.”
“Daniel, you know you are always welcome here,” Carole says. “After all, we are family. A dysfunctional, unconventional family, that’s true, but still family. We need to stick together now more than ever. It’s what Lindsey would want.”
Sarah raises her paper cup of Dr. Brown’s soda and says, “To family.” Everyone picks up their drinks and touches cups.
“To family.”
