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The first real snowfall of the year came the first week of December. My childhood had been filled with snow, men and angels and days, but ever since we moved to California it became a rarity. We went to Big Sur and Tahoe for skiing occasionally, but it was less a matter of weather and more a matter of travel. We didn’t wait for the snow; we went to it.
Here, it was different. The light flurries brought an air of excitement from the skies. Everyone walked around with a faint smile on their faces as the flakes floated down from above. It was soft and light, fine and powdery, and though everyone said it had no staying power, it formed a dusting of white along the sidewalks. Children spun in circles with their tongues stuck out, and instead of pulling them along, their adults actually laughed.
Hanukkah came two weeks into the month, when the sun hit its lowest point and the wind howled through the city like a wolf that’d lost his mate. I shivered constantly, except when I lay beside Abe, whose heat stayed even the fiercest breeze.
Rachael hosted a party on the first night, a Tuesday—convenient for the team. We arrived early, weighed down with four challahs I’d made from scratch and two bottles of wine.
Abe picked me up at work again. The receptionist came around the corner, glee etched across his face. “Abe Krasner’s downstairs. He told security he’s here to see Tamar. ” He looked at me.
In fact, everyone looked at me.
I cleared my throat. “I have mentioned to everyone by now that we’re friends, right? That we grew up together?”
Tanya pinned me with her fierce glare. “Rosenfeld, I’m not an idiot. ”
Uh-oh. I’d better roll over and expose the underside of my neck. “Of course not. ”
The glare intensified. “Nor am I a rookie reporter. ”
Oh.
“You hum,” Jin said unexpectedly.
I looked at him.
“Tunelessly,” Mduduzi added, which I did not find helpful.
Tanya just cocked her head. “You’re seeing Krasner. ”
I thought about protesting that that was my personal life, but given the strange lines we were blurring, I gave it up for a lost cause. “Worse, I’m going to a holiday party at Ryan Carter’s tonight. ”
They all started choking on surprise, except for Tanya, who actually smiled and shook her head. “What am I going to do with you?”
My dad sometimes asked that same question. The answer was usually, “Love me unconditionally and feed me, please. ”
With Tanya, I expected the answer was drastically different and not nearly as sweet.
* * *
Snow fell lightly as we left the subway and walked to Rachael and Ryan’s Central West apartment. I couldn’t get a handle on this weather; some days a bitter cold descended on the city, and on others everything seemed light and puffy, like winter in a Thomas Kinkade painting. Today the breeze almost qualified as balmy. Abe looked like he’d strolled right out of a winter photo shoot, with snow twinkling in his hair like diamonds on gold threads.
Rachael opened the door, a flurry of energy wrapped in a blue dress. “Hi! Come in. We’re not totally together yet, but we’re getting there. ”
I glanced around the huge apartment as we entered. Rachael was Jewish but Ryan wasn’t, so it was no surprise to see a tree over by the wall of windows. But it made me smile to notice the Star of David perched atop it.
The apartment smelled like sizzling oil. Ryan stood over a frying pan, flipping latkes. He raised the spatula in greeting. “Hey, guys. ”
I hefted one of the bags we’d brought with us. “Should we put these on the table?”
Rachael nodded, and I followed her over into the dining area where we arranged the challah evenly throughout the table. She placed each loaf on a white plate and examined their golden brown sheen from the egg yolks brushed over the dough. “These look delicious. ”
Abe poked his head out of the kitchen. “Tamar made them. ”
Rachael raised her brows. “Impressive. ”
I smiled my gratitude. I actually did think challah was one of my more impressive recipes, because even if it wasn’t particularly difficult, it was time-consuming and contained more steps than most of my baked goods. “I find braiding dough very relaxing. ”
“Don’t most people say that about kneading dough?”
I laughed. “I actually find kneading a pain in the ass. ”
The crowd that evening was small—I supposed because there weren’t actually that many Jews running around the NFL. “It’s really just an excuse to make latkes,” Rachael admitted.
Abe smiled. “I noticed you weren’t the one making latkes. ”
She grinned guiltily.
Ryan put his arm around her. “I am a superior latke flipper. It’s one of my many skills. ”
They’d strung up the apartment with decorations for both holidays, but they’d had us arrive early so we could light the menorah. “I used to host Shabbat dinners for the team—for Abe,” Rachael said, rolling her eyes at him, “but they quickly devolved into Friday night potlucks. I like that better. I don’t really like being the center of attention, and especially not reciting things in front of other people. ”
So it was just the four of us who sat there and lit the two candles, which was cozy and nice and familiar. Rachael’s melody was a smidgen different from Abe’s and mine, but that didn’t surprise me too much. I’d once gone to a temple and they sang all their songs with different melodies, which had been a baffling experience.
Even Ryan sang along, slower than the rest of us and completely skipping the guttural chet, but it made his girlfriend smile proudly and kiss him on the forehead.
Briana and Malcolm showed up next, followed quickly by Mike O’Connor and Natalie Sullivan. Then people kept coming into the apartment, and the night was a mix of every holiday song I’d ever heard. We ate enough to be sick, and laughed until our stomachs hurt.
Three days later, we went to my aunt Beth’s apartment for latkes and candle lighting. While Abe and I had outed ourselves to our entire family over Thanksgiving, this was technically the first time we were going anywhere as a couple, and I found myself unaccountably nervous.
Besides, Aunt Beth and Shoshi could be a little more overpowering than the rest of our family.
Abe noticed me fluttering around my apartment before we left, dragging clothes out of my closet and then throwing them back with a scowl. He’d brought his laptop this afternoon and had spent most of the day watching game tapes, but now he turned them off. “What’s wrong?”
“My family. ”
“Hey. ” He came over and cupped my face in his large hands. “It’s going to be okay. ”
I took a deep breath. “You’re right. Okay. ”
We arrived at their apartment at ten past six. The door swung open to reveal Aunt Beth, a tall, thin women who looked like my mom, if my mom had married a doctor with a grand to drop on appearances each week. “Why, hello there, darling. Oh, and Abraham. How nice to see you again. ” She folded both of us in fleeting embraces, smelling of heady perfume.
While Rachael and Ryan’s real estate probably cost more than my aunts, and while Abe and his entire team certainly had more money than Aunt Beth and Uncle George and their friends, my mother’s sister definitely felt much more imposing than any of the guys. Their apartment was furnished with old furniture and rich rugs, and everyone spoke in soft voices and felt vaguely claustrophobic.