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“It’s strange being one of only a few Jewish kids in class,” Neil says, and it’s odd to hear him vocalize something I’ve only ever thought to myself. Odd and a bit of a relief to hear someone else say something you thought was the way only you felt.
Most of the year, you don’t notice it makes you different. It’s just what your family does every Friday, and we don’t completely unplug like some more-observant Jews. But during the entire months of November and December, you’re a complete outsider. So many people never realize that someone doesn’t, by default, celebrate Christmas.
“In fifth grade, one of my teachers put up a Christmas tree before remembering that I was the only Jew in her class,” I say. “So she announced to the entire class that because she didn’t want to offend me, she was taking it down. And everyone was mad at me for, like, a whole week. She didn’t even ask what I thought, or if she should add a menorah to balance it out. It was almost like she wanted people to know I was the reason they couldn’t have a tree.”
The table is quiet for a few moments. I didn’t realize I’d been holding on to this for so long.
“You never told us!” my mom exclaims. “What teacher was that?”
“I didn’t want to make it a thing,” I say. But maybe I should have. “Mrs. Garrison?”
“We donated a set of books to her class,” my dad says with a grumble.
“That’s terrible,” Neil says. He gestures around the room. “This is nice, though. To be around other Jewish people.”
And simply put, it really is.
My mom shines a smile on our unexpected guest. “Rowan said you’re a fan of our books?”
Neil’s mouth opens and closes, but no human sounds come out. His Excavated books are underneath the table. Fanboy Neil: definitely not someone I ever thought I’d meet.
I kick him under the table. Please remember how to word, I try to telepath to him. My parents’ egos are going to be unmanageable after this.
“Huge fan,” he finally says. “I started reading Excavated back in third grade, and then I couldn’t stop. Those books actually got me into reading.”
My parents are utterly charmed. “That’s the best compliment you could give us,” my dad says. “Have you read the entire series?”
“Too many times to count.” He gestures to the table. “And you both are vegan, right? Just like Riley!”
“We are,” my dad says. “Rowan’s a vegetarian, though. She just can’t get enough dairy.” My parents became vegans in college, and they wanted me to decide for myself when I was old enough. In kindergarten, I declared myself a vegetarian, and I’ve never gone back. I loved animals too much to imagine eating them. As a result, keeping kosher, as least its most basic rules, is pretty easy at our house.
“Rowan loves cheese,” my mom says. “Sometimes when she wants a snack, she’ll take a spoon and a tub of cream cheese up to her room.”
Neil lifts his eyebrows at me, clearly trying not to laugh.
“Mother.” Yes, cream cheese is the food of the gods—specifically Chris Hemsworth circa Thor: Ragnarok—but I’ve only done that a few times. Definitely fewer than ten. “Let’s maybe tone down the cheese talk?”
Besides, it’s not just cheese. I couldn’t survive without Two Birds cinnamon rolls.
“Fine, fine. How’s Howl going?”
They’re rapt as Neil and I explain our strategy, this year’s clues, and the grand prize. Now that they’re not on deadline, they’re much more relaxed.
“We should put that in a book,” my dad says. “That would be fun, huh?”
My mom shrugs. “I don’t know. It might be a little hard to follow. A little too niche.”
“I think it would be great!” Neil says, a little too enthusiastically. “What was the book you just finished?”
Once he gets them going, they won’t be able to stop. I sneak a look at my phone. An hour and a half until Delilah’s signing. Since it’s unlikely we’ll get all five remaining clues by then, I’ll have to leave Neil alone for a bit. I wonder if I can do it without telling him why.
“This one’s the start of a spin-off series about Riley’s younger sister—”
“Roxy!” Neil blurts. “She’s hilarious. I love the way she uses foods she doesn’t like in place of exclamations, like Oh my grapefruit or What the fig? Always cracks me up in the Riley books.”
“Our editor loves her too,” my mom says. “And the publisher thought we could reach a whole new audience of kids with this series. So it follows Roxy on her quest to become a pastry chef, and each book is going to have recipes in the back that are easy for kids to make.”
“What a cool idea,” Neil breathes. “My sister would love those. She’s eleven and just starting to get into the books. You know, I always thought Excavated would make a great movie.”
