Page 36

“Forget?”

“Not celebrating Christmas is one of the most potent reminders for a kid that they are not like everyone else. But other than that, when you’re Reform—that means not super-strict or Orthodox—you can really go about your daily life without remembering that you’re Jewish. Eating cheeseburgers with your friends.” Sam chuckled. “Aside from Sundays, when you have to sit in Hebrew school for three hours. Or at least we did.”

“Did that make you sad?”

“Hebrew school?”

“Not being like everyone else on Christmas.”

“Nah.” They stopped to admire a house with lights that flashed, alternating between red and green. “I mean, I remember a time in fourth grade when everyone got to color a picture of Santa and glue peppermints on it, and the teacher gave me a snowman to color. With buttons to glue on.”

“As if you couldn’t eat peppermints?”

“Right. That did make me sad. I wanted a peppermint. But other than that, it’s been mostly fine. Some of my Jewish friends get FOMO on Christmas Day because there’s nothing to do, no one to hang out with. But my family has always done the typical thing where you get Chinese food and go to the movies.”

“That sounds so fun.”

They continued walking, meandering past couples and families. Some families seemed to have three generations present, kids holding hands with grandparents, moms pushing strollers.

“What did you do for Christmas as a kid?” Sam tugged gently on her elbow, looking at her.

“Well.” Arden leaned into his arm, unsure if she was bracing herself against the cold or bracing herself to venture down memory lane. Maybe both. “My parents got divorced when I was eleven. So after that, I always alternated whose house I went to each year. I don’t have siblings or close cousins. It was always a pretty quiet holiday. But before the divorce…” Arden’s gaze wandered toward a family of three on the other side of the street, the mom and dad each holding one of the boy’s hands as he swung happily in the air. “It was just kind of perfect. I mean, sure, most years I wished for a baby brother or sister or even a puppy and never got one. But there was the year I got a pink bicycle with streamers on the handlebars. I still remember the pure joy I felt seeing that under the tree on Christmas morning. It was always cozy, the three of us opening presents, my parents drinking coffee while I played with whatever they had gotten me.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It was nice. But…” She looked at Sam again. His blue eyes were already on her face, waiting for her next words. “I would have preferred a childhood like yours. I bet you were never lonely.” She said it with a light laugh to conceal the ache behind the words.

“I was definitely never lonely. Never got a moment’s peace, though. Playing with my toys alone while my parents watched me? Never happened.”

They grinned at each other. Obviously, Arden thought, the grass is always greener.

“So, Sam, can I ask you something?” Arden didn’t know what had come over her, but walking side by side rather than sitting across the table making awkward eye contact, she felt that she could ask a question like this. “Why did you not invite a date to the Hanukkah party? I noticed all of your siblings were with someone.”

“Clearly, I was meant to bring you,” he joked. “It would’ve been awkward to bring two dates.” Arden waited for him to continue. “Actually, I just haven’t dated anyone in a while. Overall, I’ve dated probably a somewhat normal amount. But of the serious girlfriends I’ve had—and there haven’t been that many, and we never dated for more than a year—my family has been kind of hard on them.”

They came to the end of the block, crossed the street, and started back in the other direction.

“What?” Arden didn’t know what she’d expected him to say, but it wasn’t that. “How so?”

“Maybe not hard hard—my siblings aren’t judgmental or anything, but they can be kind of cliquey, I guess. But my parents…” He paused, withdrawing his arm from hers. He looked like he was regretting the direction of this conversation. “My parents are nice people. But they kind of have… expectations for us. So with some of my past relationships, I felt that they weren’t exactly… supportive.”

Arden bit her lip. They stopped to admire a house with huge silver bells on top, adorned with white and gold ribbons. She kind of regretted asking. Except why should she? It wasn’t like she was one of Sam’s girlfriends whom his parents were unsupportive of. She was his date for one night. The idea of them being in a relationship was wildly unrealistic. That was just the little girl in her who always yearned for parental approval. She took a deep breath and felt some tension leave her body.

“I’m sorry. That sounds hard. I hope they’re more supportive next time.”

“I’m learning not to care so much about what they think. Or at least I’m trying to.”

“Good for you. Well, I’m glad you didn’t already have a date to the party. I really enjoyed it. I guess it was my lucky day.”

“That’s funny, because I thought it was my lucky day.”

“What?” Arden laughed and stopped again.

“I noticed you as soon as you walked into that café today.” Sam said it simply, just stating a fact, no honey or ulterior motives in his voice. “And I thought, Wow. If I can meet this woman, it’ll be a great day. I had no idea just how great it would turn out to be.”

Arden felt heat spread through her entire body. She was so flushed, it felt like steam should be rising from the snow on the sidewalk. She stared at him.

“You know…” Several responses flitted through her mind. She settled on the truth. “I felt the same way about you.”