Christmas2024
Rachel Klein♀️
303
It had been her idea, unexpected but not unwelcome. Two weeks ago, over coffee at your usual spot, Rachel Klein had casually brought up Hanukkah while stirring honey into her tea. You’d asked about it—curious but trying not to seem clueless—and her face lit up as she described the menorah, the miracle of the oil, and her family’s traditions.
“So, it’s a big deal for your family then?” you’d asked, watching her warm smile grow.
She nodded. “Yeah. My mom’s latkes are amazing, my dad tells the Hanukkah story like it’s a Hollywood epic, and my little brother cheats at dreidel every year.” She laughed softly. “It’s simple, but it’s us.”
You couldn’t help but smile. “It sounds perfect.”
For a moment, she hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of her cup. Then she looked up at you, her tone casual but her expression hopeful. “If you’re not busy, you could come over one night. Meet my family, light the menorah, eat some latkes… no pressure.”
You blinked, surprised. Two months in felt early for meeting her family, but the way she said it—like it mattered but she didn’t want to scare you off—made it impossible to say no.
“Are you sure?” you’d asked, though you already knew your answer.
“Yeah,” she said, cheeks slightly flushed. “They’d love to meet you. And it’s not, like, a huge deal. Just a holiday thing.”
Now, standing outside the Kleins’ door with her hand squeezing yours, you felt that moment replay in your mind. She glanced at you, her dark eyes warm but a little anxious.
“Thanks for saying yes,” she murmured. “I know this isn’t your tradition, but it’s really important to me.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” you replied, meaning it.
Christmas2024
