“What’s up, ho?”

“Nice greeting on this sacred eighth night of Hanukkah,” I said.

Yo had run out to the store for more potatoes, and I’d stayed at his place to call my sister and the kids.

Helena snorted. “I don’t remember any rule about not calling my sister a ho during the holidays. If it’s actually a sin, I’ll go to confession and ask for forgiveness. Do some Hail Marys or something.”

“Helena, for the last time, we’re Jewish, not Catholic. Yom Kippur is when we wipe the slate clean.”

“Shit, I need to write that down.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re such a weirdo. Anyway, what are my children up to?”

“My children are currently jumping on John like a trampoline, as they do. I don’t think they even remember an aunt Riss.”

“I’ll come see them as soon as I have a spare second, promise.”

I did miss the kids, but if I was honest, I’d barely thought of them over the last few days, which probably made me the worst aunt in the world.

“Do that. And maybe bring that neighbor of yours so I can get a good look at him.”

I sighed, thinking of Yo saying he wanted something real. Did he want it with me? I wasn’t stupid or naive. I saw how he looked at me. It was probably a helluva lot like I looked at him. A little bit stunned and a lot enamored. So yeah, I knew he wanted something real with me and I hoped I could have something real with him too.

“Maybe. Isn’t that weird or too soon?” I asked.

“Better to introduce him to the crazy-ass members of your family from the beginning. Then he’ll know what he’s in for.”

“He took me to the library today, Helena. We read Murakami together. I might be in deep already.”

She inhaled sharply. “Oh, shit. That’s serious business. By the way, I love that he’s a reader.”

“I love that about him too. He’s really great. Amazing. But it’s been eight days.”

“Mmmhmm. And from what little I’ve spoken to you, it sounds like you have spent almost every goddamn waking second together. It’s okay to like him, Riss. It’s fucking awesome that you think he’s amazing. Just let it happen, babe.”

“I’m pretty sure I have no choice. It’s happening.”

I heard Vivi’s screams in the background, followed by John calling for her to come back. “Oh shit, the tiny one is on the loose. She’s headed for the phone.”

“Let’s FaceTime. I want to see my baby.”

I turned on the camera, and five of my favorite faces all smooshed together filled the screen. The kids told me about all the presents they’d gotten—there was no doubt they were spoiled completely rotten. But then Delilah held up a cute little box she’d decorated in Hebrew school.

“This is for tzedakah. I asked Mom and Dad for money instead of a present tonight. I’m going to give it to a charity that feeds hungry children. Aunt Riss, did you know that some kids don’t have enough to eat? Some kids don’t even have clean water to drink.”

My heart swelled. These kids were spoiled, but they weren’t rotten. Their hearts were gold. Even I sometimes forgot that this time of year, and really all year, should be about tzedakah—giving back—and recognizing how truly lucky we were. Our homes were warm, our bellies were full, and our nights were peaceful.

“Make sure you keep the tzedakah box out when I come visit, okay? I’ll make a deposit.”

Yo came through the door and I waved at him over my shoulder, then pointed at the phone. He dropped his bags and crouched behind me.

Vivi took one look at him and yelled, “Monster!”

I laughed. “No, Vivi, that’s Yo!”

She scrunched up her face and waved her balled hands in the air. “Monster!”

I looked back at Yo. “You hear that? Vivi’s got your number.”

He grinned. “Who am I to argue? Hi, Larissa’s family.”

Helena’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit, Riss. He’s gorgeous. Hello, neighbor!”

“Am I going to have to go fight for your honor, honey?” John pretended to roll up his sleeves. “This isn’t the first time I’ve come to fisticuffs.”

I covered my face and mumbled through my hand. “Please excuse my crazy family.”

He kissed my shoulder. “Happy Hanukkah everyone. It’s great to meet you.”

Delilah pushed her family aside and held up her box. “Hello, sir. I’m Delilah Miller-Stein and I am collecting tzedakah for children who don’t have enough to eat. Would you like to donate?”

Yo nodded. “Yes, I would. What a wonderful idea.”

“Thank you, sir. I take cash or checks!”

Yo chuckled. “Thanks for giving me the option. And it’s very nice to meet you.”

After that, Hudson had to have his say, while Vivi periodically called Yo a monster and climbed all over her beleaguered father. We finally said goodbye with promises to get together soon—although I thought they’d settle for Yo on his own if it came down to it.

He came around to my side of the couch and sat next to me. “I like them.”

I cupped his cheek. “Me too. There’s never a dull moment with those people.”

“Kinda like with you. You must be related.”

“Oh believe me, there are a lot of dull moments with me. You only know Vacay Larissa. Just wait for School Larissa. So dull.”

His hand moved from my shoulder to my breast, squeezing it. “Oh, somehow I doubt that.”

“Could we not talk about my family and maybe kiss for a little while?”

His hand slipped inside my sweater and bra, thrumming my nipple. “I’m going to make you latkes.”

I arched into his hand. “Kissing first.”

We started kissing and it wasn’t long before clothes were discarded and Yo was nestled snug between my legs, sinking inside me. He cupped the back of my neck, holding me in place, watching me. His eyes never left mine, not once, as he slowly slid in and out of me.

We went from playful to intense in a breath. There was something behind his eyes, maybe a wariness, like he couldn’t quite believe I was there with him. But I was there. I wanted him so badly. I had him and still I wanted him. I wanted this—both the intensity and the playfulness. And if I could have him inside of me every day, I’d take it.

“Larissa…” he murmured.

Circling my arms around his neck, I pulled him down to me and he buried his face in my chest and shoulder. “This is real,” I said.

“So real, baby.”

I rocked and he plunged. He circled and I clenched. We were both close, but prolonging. He held back, and so did I. His jaw clenched and I held my breath, solely focused on the feel of him. His skin, his cock, his heat. In those seconds, my world narrowed down to just the parts of him that touched me.

I held on and held on by the very tips of my fingers until I had no choice but to let go and allow myself to fall. Yo fell too, but he held onto me, never letting go.

We stood together in Yo’s little kitchen, grating potatoes and chopping onions.

“I’m having deja vu,” I said.

He chuckled softly. “I like that everything changes except the holidays. Hanukkah, Passover, Rosh Hashanah...they’re always the same. Same people, same prayers, same food. In fifty years, it’ll be just like that. Well, the people may vary, but everything else will stay the same.”

“I never really thought about it, but it is comforting, isn’t it?”

“Mmm...yeah.”

I put down my knife. “Although—” I cut myself off before I said something crazy.

He frowned. “What?”

I picked the knife back up. “Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

I put the knife back down again and crossed my arms. “I was just going to get way ahead of myself and ask what if my family does the holidays different than yours? But then I thought that was pretty presumptuous to assume we’d be spending holidays together after eight days.”

Yo set down his grater and without a word, he walked to the fridge and grabbed something inside. He held up the white container and grinned. “Some changes are worth it. Even if they’re disgusting.”

I gasped. “You bought me sour cream?”

“I sure as hell did.”

I threw my arms around his neck. “You are the absolute best. Do you know that?”

“I’m still going to judge you and make faces while you eat that shit.”

I threw my head back and laughed. “Honestly, same.”

By unspoken mutual agreement, we put off lighting the candles. It was already past sundown, but we ate a slow dinner, teasing each other over our choice of topping the entire time.

When it couldn’t be put off any longer, Yo set the menorah on his coffee table and we sat on the floor on either side of it. Each branch was filled tonight, signifying the end of the holiday—the miracle of the lights.

“You want to do the honors?” Yo asked.

I shook my head. “No, you light them. I always feel like I’m going to burn my hand when there are this many candles.”

Yo struck the match and I held my breath until the shamash was lit. Then together, we said the prayer one last time, as he went down the line, lighting all eight candles.

The menorah burned bright between us and I knew the moment wouldn’t last long. Wax already dripped down the sides and the shamash was so hot, it curled to the side.

Yo held both of his hands out and I placed mine in his, watching him over the flames.

“I feel like I’m in the final scene of a Jewish version of Pretty in Pink,” I said.

“Make a wish,” he said.

I laughed and said the next line. “It already came true.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Aren’t we supposed to lean in and kiss now?”

“But this isn’t a movie, and if I did that, my hair would probably light on fire.”

“What do you think’s going to happen tomorrow?” he asked.

I chewed my thumbnail for a second. “I have so much to do. Classes, teaching, writing. It’s going to be busy.”

He nodded. “Me too. I’m booked solid and in a couple months I’ll be helping out at Avi’s salon too.”

I sighed, already frustrated and we hadn’t even had to face it yet. “This is why I’ve always kept things casual.”

“This doesn’t feel casual to me.”

I squeezed his hand. “No, not to me either. But the obstacles feel insurmountable.”

He was silent for a moment, watching the candles get lower and lower. Then he looked up, the flames reflecting in his eyes. “So let’s be Judah Maccabee.”

I huffed a short laugh. “What?”

“Judah Maccabee. He led a small band of soldiers to defeat the largest, mightiest army and reclaimed the holy temple. You know, the story of Hanukkah, defying insurmountable odds, believing they could do it, and they did. Let’s be Judah and say fuck the odds, fuck the obstacles, we want this, so we’ll make time.”

It was like one of the flames had leapt inside me, lighting me with hope. A minute ago this felt like the end of something. But now? Now, I could see that this was the beginning. We wouldn’t have days on end to talk and read and make love. Sometimes we’d only have flickers of time, stolen moments. But I was already tabulating in my head how I could carve out those moments for him.

“I love you, Larissa. I know it seems crazy, but I’m not going to qualify it. I just love you.”

I blinked.

He exhaled.

One candle burned out.

“I...I’m falling, Yo. I’ve been holding myself back, trying to stay guarded, because I wasn’t sure how this could possibly work. But I want it to.”

He reached out and cupped my chin. “That’s all I need to know. That you want this and that you’ll let yourself fall.”

“I do and I will.”

Another candle burned out.

“Then everything else will fall into place. I have hope.”

And another.

I inhaled the pungent smoke. “Me too.”

Sometimes, hope seemed impossible. The odds were too bleak. Experience and heartache defied the belief that things could and would get better. The work that had to be done was too big, too hard.

But right now, with one flickering flame left in the menorah, I looked at Yo’s easy smile and expressive eyes, and saw that hope was the thing. The biggest thing and the most real.

It was Hanukkah after all.

The last candle burned out.

And yet…