FOOF IS OUT in force this week because Chloe is about to release another book, Piper is thinking of changing jobs, and Orla is considering having a third baby. There’s a lot to talk about, even for women who know how to keep things snappy. “I can only stay for a bit today,” I tell them. “I feel bad.”
Esther pulls back the drink she was about to hand me and shakes her head. “No booze until you tell us why you have to leave.”
I grin. “You all know damn well it’s AJ’s family’s Hanukkah party tonight.” I tuck my hair behind my ears as my friends burst into a chorus of awww. “They said I can light the candle.” I was able to sneak away from work for the beginning of the Foof meeting today. Sneak is the wrong word. I could leave at the end of the business day because in my new role, I don’t spend my evenings sifting through paperwork I hate. These days, I strategize about new tech, fine-tune our existing tech, and sometimes sit alongside our developers to troubleshoot bugs in our products. And I freaking love it.
“Orla, do you need me to go through some of our research data to assess parental stress levels when families have more than two babies? You know I could get you a report in minutes, sweetie.” She shakes her head. “It was more of a passing idea than a real thing I want to try,” she says, bouncing Nicole’s baby on her hip. “Besides, with this one, I can cuddle him and hand him right on back to his mama.”
Nicole shakes her head, happy to have help with her infant. Seeing the Brady family ladies reminds me of my own family obligations for the evening, so I excuse myself and bundle up for the drive to AJ’s parents’ house. He’s meeting me there after work, since his students are finishing up a research project and staying late with him at the middle school.
I arrive before he does, and Avi tugs me in the door in a big hug. “Sam! We’re so glad to have you here tonight.” I peek over her shoulder to see AJ’s parents and Bubbie grinning and munching on cheese and crackers. AJ’s grandmother sees me and claps her hands. I swear, they like me better than they do AJ, and I don’t mind it a bit.
Avi takes my coat and hands me a glass of wine, and when AJ arrives a few minutes later, I laugh because he has to hang his own coat and pour his own drink. He snuggles up to my side, pressing a cold kiss to my neck. “You smell like snow,” I whisper to him. “Does that smell have a name, too?”
He scrunches up his face. “I’m not actually sure. I’ll report back later.” He taps my nose. “You ready for this?”
AJ’s dad clears his throat. “I think everyone is here now. Right? Nobody else?” AJ’s mom shakes her head. “Right, then. Time to get lit!”
AJ rolls his eyes. “Every year, Dad.” His father shrugs as we all walk over to the picture window in the living room, where the menorah is set on the sill. “Okay,” my boyfriend stands behind me. “Do you remember what to do?”
I look around at his family and nod. “We light the helper candle first and then use it to spread the light.” AJ nods. My hand shakes as I try and fail to light the match and he stands behind me, pressed close as he helps me strike the match. “Want me to do it with you?” His words are soft in my ear and I nod. Together, we touch the flame to the wick and I smile as the glow fills the room.
AJ’s family begins singing the prayer, and AJ’s voice is low beside me, singing along as I shake out the match and then pick up the candle, using it to light the menorah. It’s such a lovely moment, full of gratitude and happiness. We all stand together in silence for a bit and AJ wraps his arms around my waist, softly kissing my head.
“All right,” his mother’s voice breaks the stillness. “Latke time.” Avi rubs her palms together and rushes to the table.
AJ guides me into a seat beside him and says, “Okay. So I didn’t prepare you for this because it really is a moment of truth. A rite of passage.” Avi leans her elbows on the table. I hear Bubbie and AJ’s mom stop clattering in the kitchen and they bend their heads around the door frame. AJ’s dad looks anxious. “Samantha Vine, when we hand you a latke, will you top it with applesauce or sour cream?” I blink at him in confusion. He pats my leg. “Don’t feel like you need to answer right away. Think about it, because your answer will determine your future with the Trachtenberg family.”
Everyone laughs, including me, but I don’t need to think very long. Crispy potatoes and onions? “No contest. Sour cream,” I say, and then I gasp as his family groans.
AJ closes his eyes and shakes his head, pressing his hands to his heart. “Samantha,” he says. “You’ve disappointed me deeply.”
Bubbie makes a “tsk” sound and serves me a few sizzling latkes. “Adriel don’t be dramatic. Some people like sour cream. Every now and again, someone likes sour cream.”
“Those people are wrong, though.” Avi scoops applesauce onto her plate from a serving dish on the table.
I bite my lip and stare at the Trachtenberg family. “You know, I could pop open a data collection module, chart some nationwide or even global latke topping preferences?”
AJ leans forward and kisses me on the forehead. “I love you, Samantha.”
“I love you, too. Do you want me to run a program? It won’t take long…”
AJ shakes his head. “I love you, but it’s not necessary to run a model.”
“Well why not? Surely you’d want to know if your family’s firm belief is based in fact?” I take a bite of the latke. “Bubbie, this is amazing. Do I taste rosemary?”
She nods. “Just a pinch.”
AJ continues shaking his head. “It doesn’t need to be fact. It just is.”
“I don’t accept that answer,” I tell him, wiping a dab of sour cream on his nose and laughing at his frown.
He growls and snaps his teeth at me. “Mother, you’re going to have to excuse Samantha. The sour cream probably impacted her ability to think straight.”
They tease me about my “faulty” preference for sour cream and joke that they’re not going to buy me enough to last all eight nights. I lean against AJ and soak it all in, the bickering, the meal, the spark and glow between us.
AJ and I have done so much work over the past few months—both of us are feeling the impact our coach and therapist are having on our happiness at work and with family. I’m not flying to Virginia this year for Christmas, in fact. I’m joining my boyfriend for a day of volunteering with his synagogue right here in Pittsburgh. And then he’s moving in to my townhouse on New Year’s when his lease expires. He feels ready, after working to unpack his feelings…and since he spends most nights at my place anyway.
After the meal, AJ’s father gets out their dreidel and AJ and his sister squabble some more over the rules of the game while I munch on the chocolate coins. I fiddle with the gold foil wrappers from the candy as AJ gets heated over one of his spins, jumping in the air and pumping his fist, knocking a tray of cookies off the edge of the table. He and I both dive for them together, scooping them up off the floor.
Laughing, AJ piles the cookies back on the tray and grins at me. “These are perfectly good,” he says.
I nod. “It would be a shame to waste them.” He kisses me, tasting of chocolate. Leaning in closer, he whispers, “I should probably take you home, though, so we can eat the floor cookies in private.”
I grin and clutch at his hand under the tablecloth. “I like how you think.”
~~~
Thank you for reading! The Bridges and Bitters series continues with Liquid Courage, a marriage in crisis rom-com about Chloe and her husband, Ted.
Want to see what happens next for AJ and Samantha? Click here for a steamy bonus epilogue.
Curious to learn more about Doug and his wife, Amy? Their story, Lesson Plans: An Education in Romance, is coming soon!