Page 71

I backed away a step so that I could look him in the eye. His hands fell from my cheeks to his sides. I missed their warmth. “Does Bev know that?”

Seth huffed a laugh. “You’d know if my mom knew. You’d have been able to hear her head exploding all the way from Vermont.”

I couldn’t handle not touching him for one more moment, so I took his hands in mine. “Then, you and me…”

“You and me,” he said, a smile spreading across his face. I matched it with one of my own.

Which faltered after I remembered what was waiting for us out there. “My parents are still here. I can’t…” I’d cracked myself open. I was vulnerable. Who knew what they might be able to dig out of me? It would probably be bloody. I imagined them cracking open my rib cage, inspecting my heart and lungs and viscera. As much as I wanted to go before them and show them how well I was doing without them, there was a significant chance I’d just crumble and revert back to my old self. I’d already panicked when I heard my mom’s voice.

Seth squared his shoulders. “I got this. Thanks to you.” He squeezed my hand. “Wait here. I’ll tell them you want nothing to do with them.”

He wouldn’t have been able to do that before. Maybe he hadn’t been kidding when he said I’d influenced him for the better. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

He gave me one last hug, and then he was gone. I sat back down on the weight bench, then gave in to the exhaustion tugging at my limbs and laid down all the way, staring up at the weights hanging above my head. This was probably dangerous. I didn’t care.

From my supine position, I heard the door creak open again. That was fast. I turned my head, expecting Seth, finding instead an elderly man wearing a sweatband and shorts so short I was treated to a full outline of his package. He raised an eyebrow when he saw me on the weight bench, my sparkly dress brushing the floor. “Wow. That’s dedication.”

Dedication. I snorted a laugh and swung around so that I was sitting back up. “I’m just taking a break from out there.”

“I get it,” the old man said, stepping up on the treadmill and turning it up higher than I could’ve gone on a good day. “It seems like a lot.”

But it was only a lot because of my parents. I hadn’t felt that overwhelmed by the rest of it, I realized. On the contrary, it was really nice to be surrounded by my culture and people, to not have the menorah and Hanukkah music be a small side plot to the usual giant Christmas trees and endless permutations of “Jingle Bells” or “Silent Night.” If anything, that was dedication, getting an event like this off the ground.

An event like my Hanukkah festival. I knew suddenly what I had to do.

I didn’t expect Lorna to pick up this late, but she did on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Hi, Lorna,” I said, tone brisk and professional. “I have to talk to you about the Hanukkah festival.”

“Oh, that,” she said. “I’ve actually had some more ideas I wanted to talk to you about. There’s this guy who does ornament decorating, and I know that Hanukkah trees aren’t a thing, but I do know a lot of people have Hanukkah bushes, so I think—”

“Lorna,” I interrupted. “When I said I have to talk to you, that’s what I meant. Not that you have to talk to me.” I stopped, both a little shocked and thrilled I’d dared to say that to her face. Well, to her ear.

She must have been shocked, too, because she didn’t say anything in response. So I forged on. “Listen. This is what we’re going to do.”

When I hung up the phone, the old man on the treadmill, legs still pumping faster than they had any right to, looked over his shoulder and gave me a slow clap. “That’s right. You tell her.”

He had no idea what was going on, but it felt good anyway.

Seth chose that moment to return. His square jaw was even squarer with determination than it usually was. “All right. It’s done.” He held out his hand.

I took it. “Conflict looks sexy on you.”

He twirled me. My skirt fanned out in a circle, catching the gym lights and twinkling like the stars. It would’ve been magical if I hadn’t almost tripped over a stray barbell. “Come on. Let’s get back to the ball.”

And, as the bright lights of the gym transformed into the twinkling golden lights of the ballroom, as the sound of the old man puffing on the treadmill turned into the most beautiful violin moaning “Light One Candle” that I’d ever heard, as the entire ballroom’s voices rose up in song to fill each arm of the golden menorah with even more golden light, I didn’t think I’d ever been so happy.

Epilogue

The End of December

Correction: the pinnacle of happiness was not the night of the ball. It was now. To be fair, every day since the ball had been a new, shining high of happiness.

Gag me.

Still, if there was any night to be super ultra grandpa corny, it was tonight: the opening of the Hanukkah festival I’d spent the past few weeks frantically cobbling together. I took a deep breath as I scurried around my apartment with my tote bag, gathering everything I’d need tonight. Hand sanitizer? Sure. Another thing of hand sanitizer in case the first one ran out? Why not. Pepper spray? Who knew what might go on at the area’s first Hanukkah festival—couldn’t be too careful. Gum? Didn’t want to walk around with oniony latke breath all night.

“Maybe you want to throw some sunglasses in there, too,” Seth said from behind me. “You never know if for the first time ever the sun will decide to come out at night.”