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The bartender stopped by to see if we wanted another round. I hesitated. “I shouldn’t. I’m driving after this.”

“Me too,” said Seth. “I probably shouldn’t have more.”

I’d dreaded the thought of coming here in the first place, but now the thought of the night ending, well…it didn’t quite fill me with dread, but it didn’t fill me with delight, either.

Seth said, “How are your mocktails?”

Apparently, the candy cane mocktails were excellent. Seth said, “Great, I’ll try one.” And turned to me.

I sighed, hiding my relief. “Well, if you’re having one, I guess I’ll try one, too.”

I quickly took a sip of mine as soon as it came so that Seth couldn’t suggest a toast. The bartender was right: it was excellent, sweet and minty without tasting like toothpaste. I delicately speared one of the sugared cranberries from the top and popped it in my mouth.

“So, assuming you do come,” Seth said, giving his drink a stir. The separate layers of whatever red and white concoctions they’d laid in the glass spun together. “Will this be your first time in New York?”

I closed my eyes. It wasn’t the stirring or the alcohol, but somehow I was feeling a little dizzy. Maybe it was the glare of lights off all the garish tinsel, or the smells of Seth’s citrusy campfire mixing with the mulled wine spices and mint and sweat of so many people packed close together. The conversations around me all blended into a dull roar.

Probably thinking I hadn’t heard him, Seth prompted, “Have you been to New York before?”

With effort, I opened my eyes. Seth was smiling patiently at me, eyes wide and curious, and as long as I focused on him the room didn’t spin. I said, the words sour in my mouth, “Not in a while.”

It wasn’t a real answer to his question, but he seemed to take it as me saying I hadn’t spent much time there. “You’ll be in for a treat, then. The city is beautiful around the holidays. We’ll take you everywhere. It’ll basically be an all-expenses-paid vacation.” And he went on to tell me all the things we would do, all the things his family liked to do for Hanukkah, how his friend group would welcome me with open arms.

I just sat there with my mocktail, taking sip after sip, knowing that no amount of sweet would erase that sourness from my tongue.

6

I couldn’t sleep that night. That wasn’t unusual for me; typically, I’d get up and do some invoices or something else really boring for a bit, which would lull me to rest.

Tonight was different. It was Seth’s words bouncing around in my skull, the echo a total distortion of his voice. Have you been to New York before? You clearly haven’t met my parents, who are maybe the most welcoming people in the world.

My parents. New York.

I’d spent the first five years of my life in the city proper, and then we’d moved to Riverdale in the Bronx after that in search of more space for less money. My life didn’t change all that much, though. The community around me was just as Jewish, and I could take the 1 train into the city anytime I wanted.

For all I knew, my parents were still there. Maybe Seth’s were in Riverdale, too. I hadn’t thought to ask specifically where they lived. If they were in the same neighborhood, if there was the chance I might round a corner and walk into my mom or my dad, I’d have to say no.

They definitely weren’t dead. I googled their names plus “obituary” every so often, just to check.

Connor had never understood my relationship—or lack thereof—with my parents. “They’re your mom and dad,” he’d say every so often when questioning why he’d never met them or why they didn’t call on my birthday. “Even if you guys don’t get along, doesn’t that still matter? Shouldn’t you at least talk to one another?”

He didn’t get it. Nobody with loving, supportive parents could get it, I think. At first I tried to be patient with him, understanding that he was looking at us through the lens of his own parental relationships (great and great), and feeling sad that I didn’t have what he had. And then I got sick of trying to be patient and started snapping at him. Stop it. My life is better without them. Don’t ask me about them again.

I couldn’t tell him the exact reasons why—they were the ones who’d taught me that. I didn’t think it would matter if I did, anyway. I could picture his response. That doesn’t sound so bad. It’s not like we have to live next door to them or talk to them every day or anything. They’re still your parents, though. Doesn’t that mean something?

The only response I could picture to that was strangling him, so I figured it was better for both of us just to stay off the topic.

Sometimes I wished I could capture for him the expressions on their faces the last time my parents and I saw each other. Frozen sneers. The last time I showed up at their door, my mom greeted me with an icy expression like I was a stranger. Which would have been preferable to being her child, probably. She’d always treated strangers better than she treated me.

But by then I had an excuse to move away. I was dating Connor, and he’d expressed how much he wanted to move back up to Vermont now that he was able to work remotely. So I just went with him, and I never went back.

It hadn’t been running away. It had been running to something. If I had been running away, it would have been totally different. So what if I was nervous about going back? Anyone would be in this situation.

I rolled over. My stomach sloshed with the movement. My head was starting to throb, a full-on Category 4. There was no way I was going to fall asleep tonight, not when the prospect of running into my parents when I least expected it was floating around in my subconscious. And regular conscious.

I reached for my phone. The time blinked at me, making me squint. 12:30 am. Only five more hours until I had to get up to open the café. Great. Like I wasn’t exhausted enough.

Seth and I had exchanged numbers before meeting up at the bar, which meant I was able to shoot him a text before I could think it through. He was definitely sleeping, but maybe if I got the question out of my head, it would give me enough peace to sleep. Where do your parents live?