CHAPTER ONE
“What do you want?” Leo Dentz called out to the distraction in his workshop, the one currently banging around, potentially toppling over one of the antiques.
As suspected, his sister’s voice responded, not that he could understand her with all the clattering. He tossed down his rag, no way would he be able to finish cleaning up this English boot scraper now. It didn’t need a lot of work, mostly a good shine, and he had banked on having it finished ten minutes from now. Another bang, this one metallic, which didn’t mesh well with his hearing aids or bode well for damage control. Damage he’d be blamed for even if he resided on the moon when it happened. Still no sign of his sister, with any luck her destruction to the shop would be minimal. He couldn’t afford any more setbacks.
“Stop destroying the goods and come where I can see you.”
It took a moment, and another loud noise, but his sister appeared. Jodie’s brown hair piled on top of her head in her signature messy bun. She still wore her thick winter coat and held a large box that dwarfed her frame. Her purse had slid down to the crook of her arm and bumped into her leg with every step she took.
At the sight of what she carried and what it might contain, he instantly forgave her for the chaos, assuming nothing had been broken. He wasn’t that magnanimous.
“I said I had something for you, not that you deserve it.” Jodie’s deadpan delivery was accompanied by her signature smirk. As the oldest sibling she used the phrase often, typically accompanied by some sweet treat. She hefted the package onto his table, the contents jostling around.
“You want Dad to sell the shop or do you want me to save it?” He asked. Dentz Antiques, started by their grandfather, had been in the family for its entire seventy-year operation. Only now, five years after his grandfather’s death, his father and current owner wanted to sell. “I don’t trust you kids,” he’d claimed, referring to Leo and his younger brother, Dean. Two misdeeds, admittedly big ones, hung like an ecological dome, trapping everyone inside and threatening to destroy a lineage no matter if he managed to start shitting gold.
“Of course I want to save Dentz Antiques! But I’m not about to help the ungrateful.” Jodie crossed her arms, her stance turning into the familiar defiance he’d grown up with.
“I’m grateful.” Okay, so he said it through clenched teeth, but he still said it.
“Younger brothers are a pain in my ass. You’re lucky I love you.”
He gave her a grin. He couldn’t charm others with a look like his siblings could, but he knew how to get his older sister to steal him a cookie.
“Mom, you knocked over stuff!” His niece, Millie, bounded into the area, her long brown hair braided and draped over one shoulder, coat unzipped and flapping behind her.
“You pick them up for me, squirt?” he asked.
Millie nodded. “Yup. No casualties … this time.”
“Hush.” Jodie removed her coat and hung it over an old rocking chair in need of repair. The chair wobbled, but thankfully didn’t topple. “I come bearing goods, you want me to take them to Dad instead?”
Leo forgot about the wobbling chair and grabbed the box, a worn one with the logo of a popular store. The items inside clattered together in the high pitches his hearing aids loved to amplify. “Don’t even think about it.”
He rummaged through, not waiting for her to speak. Antiques were his thing, in his blood. He didn’t do this because the family needed him to follow a path. He did this because he loved it. The items represented comfort and home. Each one held a story, one he could either piece together or theorize. The quality and styles, representations from days gone by, were unique compared to the current trends.
So what if sixteen-year-old Leo thought otherwise? He’d grown since then, a hell of a lot and fast.
“From a member of my shul, the Wisenbergs. Mister passed at ninety-eight and the grandkids are more into modern than sentimental, and thus I was handed this potential treasure.”
Leo pulled out a candelabra. A little beat up and worn down, but he could probably fix it up to be worth something. “They want us to buy them?”
“Nope. Just wanted it
to go somewhere.”
This could be the good score he needed. Something rare, something valuable that would bring attention and money to the shop. Something he could repair with his own two hands. His father saw him as the breaker of things. But his hands fixed, brought new life to possessions old and forgotten. He needed one good find to finally prove his worth in the only way his father could accept. Then maybe, just maybe, he’d earn his birthright back.
He reached to the bottom of the box and pulled out an old and well-loved menorah. The gold tarnished in areas, but the exquisite detailing had him entranced. It had a tree-like feel, with vines along each of the nine candle stems, all coming together at the base. A tree of life, as though the item was more powerful than a simple menorah.
He flipped it over, discovering Hebrew written on the bottom, not something he usually found:
ניסים היו בכל מקום
“Hey, kid, can you read this?” he asked of his ten-year-old niece.
She scrunched her nose and came forward, looking at the bottom. “There’s no vowels.”
Jodie nudged her daughter. “Go ahead, try anyways.”
“You two can’t read it, that’s why.”
He chuckled and raised his hands. “Guilty. I’m rusty.” Truth be told, he hadn’t been good at reading it when he’d been Bar Mitzvah’ed. And since then, there hadn’t been many opportunities to keep up his limited skills.
She studied it for a bit before speaking, “Ni..ssim hai..yu b’khol ma … kom. I think.”
“Sounds right to me,” Jodie said.
“And what does that mean?” He asked.
Millie threw up her hands. “You think I know?! I’m not taught to understand, only to read. Seriously, you adults are all the …” she turned and stomped off into the shop.
Jodie chuckled. “I don’t think there’s anything in there that is going to fit your restoration goals, but you always got this stuff better than the rest of us.”
“Which is exactly why Dad should sell the business to me,” Leo grumbled, placing the menorah aside and checking out the other contents.
“He’ll come around,” Jodie said.
Leo scoffed. “Before or after he signs it over to someone who isn’t a Dentz?” He’d seen his father attend mysterious meetings, the business suits walking around the shop; he needed a miracle, and he needed one now.
“Hopefully before, but the stubborn streak does run dominant in our family.”
Leo’s own brand of stubborn had gotten him into this mess in the first place. The rest of the box held some potential for the sales floor, but nothing that called out for his specific skill set. He moved the items to a different bench when Millie picked up the menorah, her cell phone in hand.
“What’cha doing?”
he asked.
“You wanted to know what it meant.” Millie studied her screen, then the menorah, then her screen again. “I think it means ‘miracles happen everywhere.’ Oh! Like the dreidels!”
She ran off and came back moments later with one of the antique dreidels in the shop. “Nun, gimel, hey, shin,” Millie pointed to the different letters on each side of the dreidel. “It stands for nes gadol hayay sham, which means a great miracle happened here, or there, really, since we’re not in Jerusalem. The dreidels tell the story of the miracle of the oil lasting eight nights, but this menorah claims that miracles happen everywhere, almost like it’s magic.”
Millie placed the menorah down and looked up at the adults with shining eyes. “I bet it’s magic. You should light it and make a wish!”
He blinked at his niece. “Is this a Jewish/Chanukah/Birthday cake thing?”
Millie laughed. “No, silly. But Chanukah is about magic and miracles and getting what you need.” She suddenly frowned. “Although our near constant persecution is often because of others thinking our artifacts are magic. So maybe this is haunted instead.”
Jodie crossed her arms. “We just went from making a wish on a menorah to it bringing back the dead?”
Millie shrugged.
“Am I Scrooge? Are ghosts going to visit me?”
Jodie placed a hand on his shoulder. “Or we give it to Dad and the ghosts will visit him.” She faced Millie. “Does Chanukah not have enough magic for you?”
“I didn’t put the Hebrew on the menorah.” Millie walked off, disappearing into the shop.
Jodie picked up her jacket. “Kid does have a point, maybe you could use some hope this holiday season.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Hope as in … You really don’t think Dad is going to sell the business to me? Cause I’m not saving this business with a wish.”
“I’m not talking about the business for a moment here. You only ever talk about the business. I want you to act on something else. Like that cute neighbor you’ve got a crush on.”
Andie.
He shook those thoughts aside. No. Business first. Once he owned the place outright and had it steady, then he could consider his love life, or lack thereof.
“Am I that hopeless if I need a magic menorah?”
“No, but I’d like to see you do something other than stare longingly at your shared wall.”
“Jodie,” he groaned. Couldn’t his sister leave him alone already? Just because his bedroom wall butted up against his neighbor’s didn’t mean he spent time staring at it.
“Look, you have your plans to try and convince Dad to sell to you. But maybe this holiday season you need something outside of business and family.”
He thought about it. He thought about it often. He didn’t need magic or a push to do something different, he needed the right timing. But Jodie didn’t need to know that.
Millie skipped into the area. “Are you coming for the Chanukah party?” Her big brown eyes pleaded with his.
He’d been roped in months ago, first by Jodie, then, when he claimed he had too much
work, she sent Millie and her big eyes after him. In other words, she sent his kryptonite. The same reason she knew any time Uncle Leo kid-sat, said kid got whatever she asked for.
“I’m going to do my best to make it.” Leo said.
Millie flung her arms around him, a surefire tactic to up the guilt if he missed it. “You’ll be there, I know you will.”
“Okay, squirt, laying it on a bit thick.” Jodie waved to Leo, heading for the exit.
Millie let go. “Bye, Uncle Leo. And if the menorah is magic maybe it’ll help with that cute neighbor!” She scampered off after her mother before he could respond.
His sister had a skill for being the puppet master of the family, but he suspected her daughter would soon outshine her. Millie had ears on everything and was often listening when she appeared not to be. So her little parting gesture was not a complete surprise.
Leo picked up the menorah again. A magic menorah, that would be something. But he much preferred the magic of the story, the oil lasting for eight nights. While he could use a little magic in his life, he’d settle for the magic from his holidays. Still—he set the menorah in his bag—it might be nice to light something new tonight when the sun sets.
Andie Williams juggled a paper bag in one arm and a cardboard box under the other arm and tried to remember which pocket she stuffed her keys into. The elevator doors closed behind her and she prayed she hadn’t dropped anything.
“Maybe I should have gotten the box another time,” she mumbled to herself as she realized the keys definitely were not in her right pocket.
That’s what she got for being excited about something, rational thought always took a back seat to whatever whim she hyperfocused on. Truly, the opportunity was right there, waiting for her, it had to be done. After months of searching for a job, thanks to her current preschool program closing at the end of the school year, she finally had an offer! Sure, it involved a big move, on a preschool teacher’s salary, but better to move than be unemployed.
At least that’s what she told herself.
So, the move didn’t come without some drawbacks, but determination had her looking forward, figuratively and literally as she tripped over the carpet bump in her apartment complex hallway—the one she should have remembered was there and avoided at all costs. Nope, not her luck of the day. No, her luck involved her jerky movements causing the paper bag to rip, spewing all her belongings out onto the worn gray rug.
Andie sighed at the mess puddled at her feet and dropped the useless ripped bag. “Karma, if this is a sign, I’m not liking it.” She placed her box against her apartment door and prepared to see how many of her belongings she could cradle in her hands, when the door to unit 42 swung open.
Squatting in the midst of her bag contents was not the time for her hot neighbor to open his door. But, alas, there she squatted and there Leo stood, looking even more handsome from her angle. She often thought of him as a younger Ryan Reynolds, with darker hair and a more curved nose. So naturally she’d
been flirting with him for over a year, but the man had yet to take the bait. Only now, there he stood, handsome as ever, while her tampons, tissues, and cheap pharmacy Chanukah candles were strewn across the hallway floor. He took in the mess, all tall and strong, making her want to find her phone and take a picture. The man made her drool, and to momentarily forget the embarrassing clutter between them.
“Trouble?” A man of few words and oh, how she liked that trait.
She rose, even on tiptoes she’d have to look up to see him. Her angle had been nice, but nothing beat being closer. He always smelled like old wood and polish, a combination she somehow found alluring and a perfect match for the man. She gestured to the torn bag by her scuffed-up shoe. “Just another moment that I kick myself for forgetting my reusable shopping bag when these paper ones love to break on me.”
He chuckled and, dear no, bent. “I’ve got two hands. It’s a long walk to your unit, but I can handle it.”
She cringed as he picked up her tampons and the candles. He didn’t have any decorations on his door, but neither did most of their neighbors. They’d never discussed anything related to religion, and she really did not want to find out if her hot neighbor was an anti-Semite. She needed her nighttime fantasies for those cold winter nights.
“Cutting it close to sunset, aren’t you?” He tossed the candles before catching them.
Andie pressed her lips together, debating how to answer. Her people had been attacked, or simply made fun of, for less and she wasn’t in the mood for either. Tonight would be a cold winter night, bye-bye fantasy.
Something on her face must have telecast her feelings, because his expression softened. “Hey, I’m teasing. I barely found my own candles in time.”
She breathed in relief. Fantasy back on board! He could still be a candle snob, but she’d take that over certain danger. She quickly gathered up the rest of her belongings. “I thought I had some, turned out I had two left, and one had broken.”
She turned to her door, juggling everything in one arm and managing to get the door unlocked before things tumbled, again. When she faced Leo, he stared at her box.
“Donating things?” he asked.
What did it say about him that his first thought was donation? “Moving, actually.” It felt strange to say it out loud, another step toward making this her new reality.
The box slipped, but he caught it before it fell. “Moving?”
She entered her unit. The entry area opened up in between her small U-shaped kitchen and dining area before leading to the rest of the living space. She headed for her table, unloading her items in a heap. He followed, placing his items down to join hers. “Yeah. My program is being cut and there are not a lot of job options. I finally found something, but it’s far away.”
“How far?”
“I haven’t done the math yet, but … Ohio.”
“Ohio’s a long way from Massachusetts.”
She nodded. “I know. It’s a great opportunity, but it’s a lot. So I thought a box and packing
would make it real and help me settle.”
“You’re really moving.”
His dark eyebrows hung low, making him look so sad. Maybe he regretted the missed chances like she did. Why did that spark hope deep inside of her?
“Probably.” She sighed. “Anyways, thanks for the help. I appreciate it.”
Someone knocked in the hall, but Leo didn’t seem to notice. She took in that he wore a snug-fitting gray Henley, worn jeans that lovingly hugged his legs, and white socks, no shoes. Not exactly head-out-into-the-hall attire. “Why’d you leave your unit?”
He looked down at his feet. “I forgot shoes again, didn’t I? I always forget shoes. I had a delivery coming up, which should be here by now.”
“Someone knocked.”
His eyes widened and he stepped out of her unit. Andie watched him head to his door, where a very confused delivery driver stood. “I had the wrong number, I’m sorry.”
“No, I was helping a neighbor.”
Leo paid the guy and turned back to Andie.
“Since you’ve got a new box of candles for the first night of Chanukah, and you’re moving, and I’ve got enough Chinese here for several people, might I make a proposition?”
The smells of Chinese wafted through the hall, making her stomach grumble. Of course she forgot about dinner in her haste to get candles. “What’s the proposition?”
“I’d like to light the candles with you and share my meal. What do you say?”
CHAPTER TWO
Andie’s heart picked up a few notches as she stared at Leo, his proposition a swirl of glitter hanging in the air between them. Light the candles with Leo? She had no one to celebrate with this year, not since her father passed away. Dinner with her hot neighbor fell firmly under the perk heading. The timing stunk, since she’d be moving soon, but it couldn’t hurt to have a little fun this Chanukah, right?
Her father would want her to celebrate with someone. And he’d know she’d jump in with both feet. The only person to trust her instincts more than her.
“Sure, come on in.”
He stepped into her unit, bringing the delicious scents of food right under her nose. She closed the door behind him, shedding her coat and purse by the hook. Leo placed the food on her well-loved square dining table that had seen better days. Unfortunately, her other belongings had been placed there, and tampons did not inspire her to eat good food with a good-looking man, so she scooped up everything but the candles, walked down the short hall to her bedroom, deposited them on her unmade bed, and closed the door.
There, better.
She returned to her dining room, pushing up the leather cuff bracelet on her wrist as she walked.
“That’s an interesting cuff,” Leo said.
She lifted her sweater higher to show off the band. “I had it made recently, the thicker leather is from a belt of my father’s, the thinner is from one my mother had.” The thinner leather crossed over the thicker, a perfect match for her style.
“It’s nice.”
“Thanks.” She came to the table and rested on the back of a chair. “No plans yourself for the first night of Chanukah?”
“I’ve been too busy with work. I’ll see family toward the end for the big get-together.”
Big get-together. The words said so casually, and they resonated deep within her. It hinted at a close-knit extended family where laughter reined. The type of gathering she longed for even though she never had the experience.
The type of gathering she wouldn’t want to wait for night eight to enjoy.
“But nothing before then?” The concept felt strange to her. When her father was alive she spent at least a few sunsets with him, and often lit candles with friends as well. This year she had no concrete plans, and it made her feel her loss all the more.
A big, loving family had always been her dream. All she had left were a few distant relatives who were so drama-filled that her father cut ties when she was small. As a result, she didn’t know them. The only numbers she had were found in her father’s handwritten contact list, and a great number of those proved outdated when she tried them after he died.
“Just volunteering for the Hebrew school Chanukah party that my conniving niece roped me into.” His voice held an amused tone and the glint in his eyes said his niece held a soft spot in his heart.
It nearly made her purr. Large family with cherished children. She pushed it aside. “Is it still volunteering if you were roped in?”
“As I said, I’ve been busy.”
A Leo-shaped puzzle piece began sliding into place: works long hours, doting uncle. She focused on the former because she liked the doting uncle side far too much. “Workaholic then. You know, they have programs for that.”
Leo chuckled; eyebrows raised. “They do?”
Andie nodded. “They do. It starts with helping a neighbor with a ripped bag and lighting candles together.”
His grin grew large, crinkling the corner of his eyes, and she felt the flames of the candles they
hadn’t yet lit, warming up the space between them.
“What about you?”
She pulled down two plates and two cups and brought them over to the table. “I don’t think I’d consider myself a workaholic, but I do enjoy my job.”
“No family to celebrate with?”
She sighed and brought over silverware as Leo unpacked his bag. “My father passed eight months ago. Before that it had been just the two of us for as long as I can remember. Now it’s just me.” She tried to smile, to put on her brave orphan face, but this was her first Chanukah without him and it hurt. Probably why she only managed to uncover her menorah this morning.
“I’m sorry,” Leo said. “Explains the bracelet.”
She fingered the leather around her wrist, working to contain the ache in her chest. “That it does. And the rest is not your fault. We should light the menorah before we eat.” She collected the candles and moved away from the table, doing her best to leave her sad memories behind. She could be sad later.
She had her menorah set up on a small table in front of her window. A simple but old one. It had been her father’s. A strange mix of hurt and family warmth filled her, and she was glad Leo had helped her, because she really did not want to be alone the first night.
“That’s a nice menorah,” he said.
“Thanks. I think my grandmother gave it to my father as a gift, something she had when she was young.”
He brushed a hand along the tarnished base. “Antiques are my thing. I figured it was old.”
“Antiques, huh? Don’t find that much in people our age.”
“Family business. I grew up with it and wouldn’t want to do anything else.” His words felt heavy, some other meaning stirring underneath.
She shook out two candles from the box, one blue, one yellow. “There’s something there, in the way you said it. Is that the truth or is it one of those ‘you’ll follow the family business or else’ things?”
He blinked at her, a note of surprise in his brown eyes. “You caught that, huh?”
“I’m good at reading people.”
“Not wanting to do anything else is true. However, my father wants to sell the family business, and his sons are not his first choice.”
“Ouch. That sucks. I’m sorry.” Andie set the two candles in the menorah. She didn’t get family conflicts. Life was too short. She wanted a warm, loving family to walk in to. Sure, perhaps she was swayed by life with her dad and holiday movies, but her gut said it existed, and she wouldn’t settle for less.
She grabbed her matches, facing her companion. “How long has it been since you’ve celebrated?”
Leo raised a single eyebrow. How did he do that? She’d tried practicing as a kid and eventually gave up. On him it looked sexy as hell and she nearly leaned in. “Are you asking if I forgo my own candles when alone?”
“I’m asking if you can read the Hebrew or need the phonetics?”
“I’ve got it memorized, does that help?”
“Very much so, since I didn’t find my paper with the prayers written on it. ...
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