A Medley Of Holidays
(Part 1)
My Love, A Beacon In The Night
My Words Will Be Your Light
To Carry You To Me
Willow kneaded the dough in her hand with great dedication.
“Harder!” an imposing voice called from somewhere.
It somehow sounded like her mother, her 4th-grade teacher, and the science fair judges all at once.
She doubled down, sweat forming on her brow but the voice just got louder and more echoing.
She worked and worked until her arms gave way and her face dropped down into the dough.
Surprisingly, she didn’t fight.
It was nice.
Muffled those loud voices.
Felt safe.
She rubbed her face into it.
So soft.
So pillowy.
So–
“Willow.”
Willow’s eyes flew open.
It took several blinks but she quickly realized her cheek was firmly planted on Tara’s breast while her fingers were firmly entrenched around the other one.
Tara was gently trying to prise her off.
“You know I don’t mind you copping a feel but you’re putting new meaning to the phrase ‘titty twister’.”
Willow looked up at Tara with sleepy confusion. Tara looked back accusingly.
“You’re imaging a tornado of boobs aren’t you?”
She was now.
It took another second but finally, everything clicked and she was quick to withdraw her hand.
“Shit. I’m so sorry.”
She’d left little red marks on Tara’s breast and tried to soothe them with little rubs, which quickly just made her cheeks go the same color. She looked back up at Tara.
“Sorry. Weird dream. I’ll try not to use you like a security stuffie again.”
Tara enveloped Willow with her arms and rolled them so she was spooning her.
“How about your security blanket?”
Willow smiled and scooted back into Tara happily.
“Perfect.”
She closed her eyes again and took a moment to do a body scan; feeling every point of contact with Tara instead of every point of awareness of her own body. A Tara-scan. It was much more relaxing.
“Absolutely perfect.”
Tara nuzzled into the back of Willow’s head.
“No school. No work.”
“Bliss,” Willow sighed happily.
They promptly heard repeated crashing sounds from downstairs.
“…or not.”
They jumped out of bed and hurried down to the kitchen. Willow had her phone in her hand ready to call 911 but there was no need, as just Jeff stood there, shirtless, holding Miss Kitty to his torso as she purred.
There were multiple aluminum bowls on the floor.
“Sorry, girls,” Jeff blushed as he petted the cat, “We got a little too ambitious with some trick shots.”
Both girls’ eyes went to the little bag of treats sitting on the counter next to him.
Suddenly Sally appeared from behind him, holding a phone in landscape position.
“I got the jump though! We just need to get her landing!”
Kimberly came through the back door then, holding a brown paper bag.
“Oh good, everyone is up,” she smiled and shook the bag, “I got bagels. Extra lox for you, Willow.”
“What can I say, I’m a stereotype,” Willow replied deadpan.
Jeff scratched Miss Kitty between the ears.
“Me too.”
“Don’t think we’ll have any problem getting a kitty sitter in the future,” Willow murmured to Tara, who just smiled and went to get plates.
“What are my Balti dishes doing on the floor?” Kimberly asked with a frown and Sally and Jeff looked at each other and quickly averted their gazes.
“So, uh, Ms. M,” Willow tried to distract, “What can we do to help with your solstice party later?”
“You can help pot the homemade jam Jeff made for the party favors,” Kimberly suggested and offered a crooked smile Willow knew all too well, “Try not to get it in your hair this time.”
“I was five!” Willow defended, “And Tara put it there!”
“I was trying to see if it was the same red as her hair,” Tara smiled slyly and kissed Willow’s cheek as she passed.
“Sheila Rosenberg didn’t care for explanations,” Kimberly replied dryly.
Willow winced.
“I don’t remember that part. I just remember…” she looked at Tara, who smiled, “That. I remember you splatting it on my head and giggling.”
She could picture it so clearly. Remember how she felt, so much emotion for this person that she couldn’t even process in her tiny body. Pure joy. Pure love.
“I love you so much,” the words came out of her mouth and across the kitchen somewhat unintentionally.
But no one paid any heed; it was totally normal, acceptable, unremarkably routine.
“I love you too, honey,” Tara replied easily as she popped a grape into her mouth, “Do you want some OJ?”
Willow just nodded and joined the table to eat.
After breakfast and finishing the pots of jam, Tara brought Sally over to hang at the Summers’ house, while Willow decided to go say hello to her parents. The last time she’d seen them they were throwing hackey sacks at each other and life had gotten a little blackmail-y so she hadn’t been in much contact.
“Bubbeleh!” Ira greeted warmly at the door, wrapping his arms around Willow before looking around, “Where are the family?”
Willow’s heart swelled like one of the many tiny wounds of her childhood had been stitched up.
“Tara’s taking Sally to see Dawn. They’re besties now. It’s actually really sweet.”
Ira stood aside to let Willow in.
“Can I get you anything? There’s leftover hamantaschen.”
“Just ate, but thanks!” Willow replied, swinging her arms forward and back nervously, “Is Mom here?”
“Yes, of course,” Sheila came out of the study, “It’s nice to see you, Willow.”
Willow accepted a light hug.
“Thanks, Mom. It’s nice to see you too. Tara’s Mom told me you’re coming to her party tonight?”
“Oh yes, we’re quite looking forward to it,” Ira nodded.
“Fascinating theology,” Sheila agreed.
“It doesn’t um…” Willow trailed off, unsure what words to use, “Offend you?”
This was the man who banned a Christmas cartoon from playing on his TV and nearly had a heart attack one time she put up a poster with a plus sign on it and he thought it was a cross.
Ira seemed completely calm though.
“Whatever God you believe in, we come from the same one,” he replied sagely.
“Or ones,” Sheila added and they looked at each other and laughed.
Willow felt like she was in the twilight zone.
“Your old parents are capable of growing with the times,” Ira said, seeing the look on her face, “Some might say we’ve had to have been dragged but either way, if we are to be part of your family, then we need to embrace everyone in it.”
Willow let out a soft breath.
“Do you believe in all of these spirits and charms?” Sheila asked, her tone betraying absolutely no real feeling.
“Um…” Willow replied, shifting uncomfortably, “I don't really know. I guess for me…to love another person is to see the face of God. And I have a lot of love.”
Ira smiled in recognition and clasped his hands together.
“Coffee and kibitz?”
Willow followed her parents into the kitchen slightly relieved, still expecting to wake up at any moment.
Willow glanced from side to side before swiping two cups from the hard cider punch at the refreshments table and hurried over to Tara, standing on the outside patio under the fairy lights she and Sally had bickered over while hanging them earlier.
“Look what I sneaked us!”
Tara took the cup with a wry smile.
“You know I’m 21 right?” she clinked her cup against Willow’s, “And we’ve gotten drunk together many times?”
“Don’t ruin the fun,” Willow replied, covertly sipping from her cup, “And I think you’ll find your cradle-robbing ways have left you with a technically underage girlfriend.”
“Not for the first time,” Tara mused, causing Willow to lean against her and giggle.
Tara put her arm around Willow’s waist and held her at the hip.
“I wish my Mom had felt able to express her beliefs while we were growing up. Look how happy she is with all of her witchy friends.”
Kimberly was standing in the backyard beside the pinecone tree they’d built filled with peanut butter and seeds for the local wildlife to enjoy. The lawn was lined with lanterns while the patio was covered in candles in addition to the fairy lights. The main feature was the blazing fire pit Jeff had built with wood log benches on all sides.
Kimberly was speaking animatedly to a woman, who Willow was pretty sure owned the pet store in town, pausing every so often to wave or greet another person arriving. Jeff came over to top up her drink and it warmed Willow’s heart to see the way they looked at each other.
“Me too,” she agreed with Tara “But I’m glad she is now. Plus my parents would never have let me come over back then.”
Willow looked at Tara and glanced down at the hand on her.
“I like this,” she said, wiggling her hip indicatively, “I like you claiming me.”
Tara squeezed Willow’s hip, making Willow feel a warm surge under her dress.
“Stop that or I’ll be dragging you upstairs.”
“I think you have had enough of this,” Tara took her empty cup away, “I forgot how frisky you get under the influence.”
Willow made a little ‘rawr’ sound in Tara’s ear, who blushed and let her hand drop ever-so-slightly to the top of Willow’s rear.
Kimberly’s laugh permeated the air as she left a friend and walked past them.
“Hey Ms. M!” Willow greeted giddily, “Great Solstice!”
Kimberly offered a half-smile.
“Did you girls try the wassail?”
“The uh, hot apple punch?” Willow asked, grinning, “It was brew-tiful.”
Kimberly pursed her lips in amusement and leaned in.
“If your parents ask who got you drunk you better not say me.”
She raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the house, where Sheila and Ira had just walked in.
She walked off and Willow’s eyes widened.
“My parents! I forgot they were coming!”
“Calm down, darling,” Tara reassured, lifting her hands to rub Willow’s shoulders, “Just play it cool.”
“When in my life have you ever known me to play it cool,” Willow hissed in response before bringing her hand up to do a dramatic wave, “Mom! Dad! You made it! From…all the way across the street!”
Sheila frowned and Ira just looked slightly bewildered.
“It’s very kind of you to come,” Tara took Willow’s hand and squeezed it tight, “Can we get you a drink?”
“I recommend the wassup,” Willow added before hiccupping and going wide-eyed.
“Waissail,” Tara corrected gently, “It’s like a mulled cider.”
Willow’s glassy eyes stared her parents down.
“We’re told it’s delicious.”
Tara nudged her, which made Willow spin away to stop laughing.
“I’ll get you some!”
She ran off, leaving Tara alone with the Rosenbergs.
“H-Have you seen the Yule tree?”
While Tara awkwardly showed her future in-laws the arrangement of chestnuts fastened into a bauble shape, Willow went into the kitchen, where she caught Sally sipping the wassail from a spoon and encouraging Dawn to do the same.
“Sally!” Willow exclaimed, clapping her hands together.
Sally quickly hid the spoon around her back while Dawn looked like she’d seen a ghost.
“We weren’t!” her voice came out high-pitched, “We–!”
“Run!” Sally instructed, taking Dawn’s hand and running past Willow.
Willow put her hands on her hips and pretended to look stern until they were out of view and then smiled.
Getting into kiddie antics like that was exactly what she hoped the rest of Sally’s childhood would be. She remembered her and Tara sneaking some ‘nog at their age, barely a sip each, but the thrill of it was like nothing else.
She decided the several cups of waissel she'd swigged earlier was enough and so just got two fresh cups for her parents before returning to save Tara from explaining the finer points of skyclad rituals to a blushing Ira and an unrelentingly probing Sheila.
Tara had gone into error mode by the time Willow got there.
“I–I–I…”
“...what’s going on?” Willow asked, quickly wrapping her arm around Tara’s waist once she’d handed off the cups.
“I simply wondered if the ancient pagan tradition of circumcision as a religious rite of passage has maintained its significance as it has with Judaism as a covenantal sign,” Sheila said with a purposeful one-shoulder shrug.
“Why?” Willow enunciated clearly, “Why would that ever come up?”
“Ira!”
Jeff’s voice broke the tension as he came over and clasped Ira’s hand.
“Jeff,” Ira also seemed grateful to see him, “Great to see you. This is Sheila.”
Willow took the out, quickly tugging Tara’s hand away to bring her to sit around the fire pit.
She kept their hands clasped and admired Tara's beauty in the light of the flames.
A few minutes passed and Kimberly came and stood at the top of the pit.
“Good evening everybody,” she started, loudly enough to gather everyone around.
As she started to speak, there was a gentle tug on her dress. She looked down and then bent down so Sally could whisper in her ear.
She smiled and nodded, stroked Sally’s hair, and stood.
“Sally would like to tell us a festive joke to start our evening.”
There were some encouraging cheers as Sally stood up on the bench and cleared her throat.
“What did the Earth say to the sun on the Winter Solstice?” she asked, a nervous but giddy smile playing on her face, "You’ve been so distant lately!"
There were big guffaws from both Ira and Jeff in unison and Sally took a bow before jumping down, fist-bumping Donny on the way.
Kimberly smiled and clapped her hands together.
“Thank you, Sally, our resident jokester,” she threw a wink in Sally’s direction before focusing back on her guests, “First, let me just say how grateful I am to be here tonight, with each of you. As we gather here to celebrate Yule, the winter solstice, let’s take a moment to appreciate that we are part of an ancient tradition of celebrating the longest night of the year. For centuries, people have gathered like this to bring light into the darkest time, to look ahead with hope, and to renew connections with friends and loved ones. And here we are doing just that. This night marks a turning point. From here, the days will begin to grow longer, little by little. In many ways, this year felt like a long night too, and yet here we are, still standing, together, sharing the light we have with each other.”
She looked to Ira pointedly, who nodded in recognition of their different traditions sharing the same meaning.
“And tonight, as we celebrate, let’s remember the Yule tree. It reminds us of endurance and growth, of life in the dead of winter. Each branch reaching outward is like each of us, part of the same tree, yet bringing our own light, joy, and warmth into this gathering. We’re part of something bigger than ourselves, and nights like these remind us of that.”
She reached for Jeff’s hand and took it proudly.
“So, let’s lift our glasses! Here’s to old traditions and new beginnings, to the friends who are family, to light and laughter. May we keep each other warm this winter, and may the coming year bring us all growth, love, and joy. To Yule! Cheers!”
There was a small cheer around the fire. Kimberly reached into a bag beside one of the logs and pulled out a stack of Post-its and pens.
Jeff lifted his voice to be heard around the yard.
“A tradition we’ve always done in my family is to write something on a piece of paper we’d like to relinquish to the universe and toss it into this sacred fire to burn. Kimberly is going to hand out some pens and pieces of paper. Feel free to shout as you toss your paper or just speak it to yourself.”
He stepped up first and bellowed to the night.
“Comparing success!”
Willow and Tara shared a surprised look at his volume, but sure enough, Jeff did seem unburdened as his paper burned.
They let the witchy people step up to take their turn but wanting to be supportive, Tara did so too, although she spoke a bit more quietly.
“Timidity,” she said as she tossed her paper into the fire.
Willow took up next to her and did the same.
“Shame.”
Tara took Willow’s hand and squeezed it affectionately.
As they sat down, they were both surprised by the next person to take a turn.
“Myopia,” Ira said reverently as he threw his paper in the fire.
Willow frowned.
“I don’t think he gets it,” she whispered to Tara, “It doesn’t cure bad eyesight.”
Tara pursed her lips to withhold a smile, but only just managed.
“I think he meant he was throwing away his myopic viewpoint.”
“Oh,” Willow replied, then brightened at the implications, “Oh!”
She smiled at her Dad, but he was looking at Sheila. She stared back for a moment before rolling her eyes.
“Oh fine,” she grabbed some paper and a pen. After scribbling something she haphazardly let it fall into the fire. “Perfectionism.”
“Tell me about it,” Willow whispered, lips pressed thin in something between amusement and old pain, “Think that will apply to how she sees me too?”
Tara couldn’t hide the smile this time. She wrapped that arm right around Willow again and kissed the top of her head. Willow leaned in and allowed that all-encompassing feeling of safety to engulf her just as the flames engulfed their insecurities.
Once Jeff had confirmed everybody who wanted to take part had, he lifted his glass.
“The ceremony is complete! May the spirits be with us! Hail!”
“Hail!” came the return from most of the guests.
Sheila tensed and shook her head.
“Ira, what on earth have we gotten ourselves associated with?”
The music started to play louder and many people got up to dance, including Willow and Tara. Ira couldn’t take his eyes off them.
“Can’t you see it?”
“The blasphemy?” Sheila asked, pulling her jacket closed with one hand.
“That’s rarely been a concern of yours,” Ira replied somewhat curtly but his face softened again, “No. Look. Look at our daughter. See the look on her face.”
Sheila looked over to Willow, who was being spun by Tara and laughing.
“What? Aimless frivolity?”
Ira exhaled a soft breath.
“Joy.”
He was very still for a moment, then took a step forward.
“I’m going to join her.”
“Ira,” Sheila said in a clipped tone, raising her voice when he didn’t respond, “Ira!”
Ira stopped to look over his shoulder.
“You can come along if you wish,” he said in a way that told Sheila he wasn’t turning back, “Or are you afraid you won’t be perfect?”
Sheila narrowed her eyes and watched Ira’s back as he moved to join in with the dancing.
She had a sudden memory of them being at a JCC in college and how they would dance all night without a care in the world. The next words out of her mouth were an impulse but a long time coming.
“Ira, wait.”
Ira looked back. He waited a moment and offered his hand.
Sheila took it.
And the smile Ira gave her was everything he’d given her in those days, just 25 years later.
Sheila hadn’t allowed herself to tap into those feelings in a very long time.
And so on the earth’s longest night, they took a short step toward each other.
“How come your Dad is running around so much?”
Willow watched her father fill up Sheila, Kimberly, and Jeff’s coffee before fixing the desserts sitting on the coffee table while he fussed over the neatness of the napkins.
“It’s Rosh Chodesh – the Jewish new moon,” she explained to Sally, “It’s kind of marked as a women’s holiday to rest. So Dad is just making sure we can relax.”
Sally’s eyes widened and she leaned in to whisper.
“Are Jews like werewolves?
“No,” Willow laughed, “We just follow the same calendar.”
She reached out to one of the plates on the coffee table.
“That’s why we have Oreos, see? To make different stages of the moon.”
She twisted one half off and licked the cream to form a half-moon. Sally raised an eyebrow.
“You told me not to play with my food.”
“Now you listen to me?” Willow replied, deadpan.
“A perfect crescent,” Ira complimented as he passed back to his chair. He took a cookie and mimicked Willow, “Look, it’s tasty and fun!”
Sally’s eyes dragged between the two of them.
“I’m starting to see where you get your sense of humor from.”
Ira smiled at Willow fondly, who let him believe it was a compliment. Sally tried to reach for a piece of sufganiyot, but she hit her knee against the table leg and stumbled.
“Whoa there, sweetie,” Tara caught her and stabilized her.
“Be careful, you’ll break your ankle tripping over those cushions,” Kimberly said with concern.
“And I can attest that is not something you want to do,” Tara patted Sally’s shoulder as she sat down on a cushion again.
Sally looked up at Tara with her mouth full of donut.
“You broke your ankle?”
“She still has a shiny scar,” Willow commented with a knowing nod.
“Just from breaking it?” Sally’s mouth dropped, “Did your bone pop out!?”
“No, the scar came from the gnarly surgery she had to have on it because she walked for miles on it after it happened,” Willow said, kissing Tara’s cheek from the other side.
“Why would you do that?” Sally’s brow furrowed, “HOW would you do that?”
“There was an earthquake,” Willow started, gazing adoringly at Tara.
“And I had to find Willow,” Tara finished, not breaking her gaze.
Sally’s tone dropped sarcastically.
“Really? You hurt yourself for
her?”
Tara leaned in and nuzzled her nose briefly on Willow’s cheek.
“You know I'd walk a thousand miles.”
“That’s DUMB,” Sally exclaimed, shaking her head, “I hope I never fall in love if it makes me that stupid.”
Almost everyone laughed but Sheila excused herself to the kitchen.
“You’ll see one day, young girl,” Ira smiled then leaned down to pull open a drawer in the coffee table, “Have you ever played with a dreidel? I am the reigning champ in this house.”
Tara smirked.
“You’ve never played with me, Mr. Rose–” she caught herself off his look and smiled politely, “Ira.”
“Has a challenge been laid?” Ira raised an eyebrow with a certain amount of mirth shown in the twitch of his mustache.
“I sure hope so,” Jeff rubbed his hands together, “You are looking at the Southern California Major League Dreidel Champion three years in a row.”
Ira feigned shock.
“And I blind to the company I’ve been keeping all this time!”
“I’ll get you another soda,” Willow jumped up and grabbed Tara’s glass, “Anyone else want anything from the fridge?”
She collected a few more glasses and went into the kitchen. Sheila was standing with her hands resting on the island, silent.
“Do you want a refresh on your seltzer, Mom?” Willow asked as she went to the fridge and filled up the glasses she had, “I’m topping up drinks for the tournament that’s about to break out in there.”
Sheila didn’t reply, instead just giving Willow a withering look.
“You let her speak to you like that?”
Willow looked up, confused.
“Sorry?”
Sheila clicked her tongue.
“The child. I’ve never known it to be an expert parenting technique to laugh at disrespect.”
Willow felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise uncomfortably.
“'The child'? Do you mean Sally? The girl I'm helping raise? She’s just teasing,” she explained, trying not to sound meek even in her incredulity, “It’s actually how she shows affection. Trust me, we had a rocky start but we’re actually really good now. She's just a jokester. She-”
She felt herself falling into explanation and quickly stopped. She raised her chin and looked her mother in the eye.
“The real question is why I’m still letting
you speak to me like this.”
Sheila blinked slowly.
“Excuse me?”
Willow scoffed.
“This isn’t about Sally. I don’t even think it’s about me anymore. You’ve been disappointed in every decision I’ve made since I finally took myself out from under your thumb,” she said, feeling her heart racing and her extremities start to tingle, “You were disappointed I took a gap year, you were disappointed I was dating Tara, disappointed I moved to LA, that we took in Sally. Maybe you need to figure out what you’re actually disappointed in and get over it because I’m done being your punching bag.”
Willow grabbed a small drinks tray and put the glasses on it quickly. As she turned, she heard her mother’s voice and surprisingly, she was the meek one.
“Willow,” Sheila’s voice cracked as she forced words to come out, “I’m sorry.”
Willow looked over her shoulder and didn’t relax her stance but did soften her voice.
“Get some therapy, Mom. I mean that as kindly as possible.”
She turned and walked back into the living room.
Sheila sighed. Her eyes flicked to the menorah on the windowsill.
“Perfectionism,” she murmured to herself, “It’s a family curse, I suppose.”
She leaned her hands on the counter and spent a long moment contemplating her life.
Willow smiled as she returned when she saw Tara spinning the dreidel and landing on a winning spin.
“Be careful there Dad, my girl’s a shark! She spun a Gimel and had me landing on Shin until I had nothing–” she cut herself off as Tara gave her an alarmed look and she remembered they hadn’t been playing for gold coins, but clothing, “Uh, left in the pot.”
Tara’s cheeks blushed but Willow was quick to give her a fresh soda to cool down with.
During a spirited game, Ira began singing, and Jeff joined in soon after.
“Sivivon, sov, sov, sov. Chanukah, hu chag tov!”
“Chanukah, hu chag tov! Sivivon, sov, sov, sov!” Willow joined in.
The next voice to join in was surprising.
“Chag simcha hu la-am. Nes gadol haya sham,” Sheila sang, only slightly wooden.
Willow caught her mother showing an emotion she didn’t often see in her – wistful. For once, there was no sharpness behind her eyes.
Picking up the rhythm, Tara was next.
“Nes gadol haya sham. Chag simcha hu la-am.”
Ira clapped and stood to kick his legs in a dance. Again, surprising the room, Sheila stood and took his hand to twirl. An actual smile graced her face.
“Sivivon, sov, sov, sov. Chanukah, hu chag tov!”
Ira puffed out a breath with a big smile.
“What a treat it is to have you all share this special night with us,” he said, smiling around the room, “And on that note…”
He went over to the cabinet and retrieved a box underneath filled with gifts in blue and white paper.
He came to Sally first, handing her a wrapped box-shaped square and a bag of gold chocolate coins.
Sally’s eyes lit up, not having expected presents and she ripped open the paper. At first, she was confused upon seeing a book but grinned as she flicked through the copy of The Latke Who Couldn't Stop Screaming.
“It’s a book about an angry potato! Cool!”
She suddenly smirked, sneakily put her hand into her hoodie pocket, and then offered her hand to Ira with thanks. Ira smiled cheerily.
“Oh, what manners–YOW!”
Sally fell back laughing while Tara went beet red.
“Sally!” Willow said between clenched teeth, “Sorry, Dad, she got a buzzer at the magic box earlier.”
“My fault,” Jeff held up his hands apologetically, “Joke toys were a compromise with Anya who wanted more…novelty items.”
Ira looked at his hand slightly shocked, then started to laugh, big, heaving laughs.
“Oh, how fun! You got me, Sally!”
Sally just giggled while Willow tried desperately not to look at her mother. Instead, Sheila spoke up.
“Ira, you haven’t been shocked like that since St-Viateur ran out of bagels during our Bioethics conference in Montréal.”
There was a small beat of silence, because did Sheila Rosenberg just make a joke?
But Ira broke it and everyone else followed and merriment was restored.
Ira handed Tara a similar box to what he’d handed Sally.
“I hope this isn’t presumptuous.”
Tara took the box curiously and popped it open. Inside was a solid wood dreidel with her name engraved and ‘my first dreidel’. Tara felt choked up as she showed Willow.
“Ira, this is beautiful.”
“And now I can practice at home so I can whip your butts next year!” Sally exclaimed, who had opened her new dreidel by now too.
“Sally,” Willow said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, I welcome the challenge,” Ira laughed.
He added a bag of gelt for Tara and then handed something to Willow. Willow smiled and lifted the lid. Inside was a hanging ornament of a window pane with a menorah sitting in it and a star of David hanging from the top. Underneath, it said ‘In this house, we celebrate love’.
She looked at it, stunned. Her fingers trembled as she traced the Star of David with her thumb and took in the words.
“You got this for me?”
“I thought you could put it on the Yule tree,” Ira suggested nervously, “If Jeff and Kimberly don’t mind.”
“It’s lovely,” Kimberly reassured.
“Wow, Dad,” Willow stared down at the piece.
“Your mother picked it out,” Ira replied, looking bashful.
Willow looked up and met her mother’s eyes. Something passed between them, some recognition. Willow saw pain but something else.
Trying.“Thanks, Mom.”
Sheila nodded once and cleared her throat softly.
“It’s nice to carry all of yourself wherever you go.”
Willow got up to hug her parents and then returned to show Tara her ornament.
While Ira gave some gifts out to the adults, Tara wrapped an arm around Willow and kissed the side of her head.
“Hey, I have another joke!” Sally announced proudly.
Willow grimaced but tried to hide it; not knowing what was coming.
“Do you think Noah does a lot of fishing in the ark?”
“Well, there was opportunity,” Ira mused thoughtfully, “And Noah was only instructed to take land animals on the Ark.”
“No, how could he?” Sally grinned, ignoring Ira’s attempts to theologize her joke, “He only has two worms!”
Ira let out a belly laugh and Willow could only smile and look between her girls with glassy eyes, knowing only Tara knew how much this meant.
Kimberly and Jeff took Sally home when it was getting close to bedtime and said goodnight to Willow and Tara, who were staying there tonight.
“Ira,” Tara smiled as she sat with her hands under her thighs, “Does your offer to come to temple with you in the morning still stand?”
Ira’s face lit up.
“We’d love to have you. Are you sure you can spare the time?”
Tara nodded and smiled at Willow.
“My Mom and Jeff are taking Sally Christmas shopping.”
“What an enlightened, multicultural life we all lead,” Sheila mused, only slightly sardonic as she sipped her drink.
“Quite,” Ira smiled, “We’ll see you both in the morning.”
Willow linked her fingers with Tara and nodded toward her bedroom.
“Goodnight,” Tara said, wiggling her fingers in a small wave as Willow led her away.
In Willow’s room, Tara sat to remove her shoes while Willow leaned against the door and flicked the lock, just in case.
“I love this part,” Willow sighed, soft against the quiet.
Tara looked up, brow raised.
“Of Hanukkah?”
Willow crossed to her and sat in her lap.
“Of the day.”
She pushed some hair from Tara’s brow, tilted her chin up, and kissed her softly.
Tara wrapped her arms around Willow’s back and would have very gladly fallen back into bed with her.
She pulled away just enough to rest their foreheads together.
Willow turned her head to nuzzle Tara’s nose.
“You don’t have to come to shul tomorrow.”
“I want to,” Tara said, “Especially since your father asked. Are there any rules?”
Willow shook her head. Tara didn’t need instructions on respect.
“No, not really. I’ll guide you if something comes up. It’s long, though. Not even including all the chatting afterward. Especially if it’s Rabbi Aronowitz.”
“Well I look forward to it,” Tara countered with a smile.
“You might say that now…” Willow arched an eyebrow.
Tara just shook her head.
“I want every part of you known to me.”
Willow leaned in and kissed Tara again.
“Like I said…best part of the day.”
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Good that innocent Sally didn't understand this sexual innuendo!
Shame on you Laragh for not letting us witness this hilarious moment, whenever it happened (surely before the blackmail started?)!
Anyone not totally stupid should have realized at least after this first sip that there is something wrong with the "punch" and should have stopped drinking it immediately!!!