| T H R E E C A N D L E S B U R N I N G |
E-mail address: liza_cameron@yahoo.com Title: Three Candles Burning
protocol briefing memo I'm reading on tomorrow’s Japanese trade meetings to find Toby standing over my desk, fiddling with my private property, wearing a mirthful yet judgmental expression on his face. "What does it look like, Toby?" "It looks like a child's toy." "Yes." "It's a dreidel." "Good eye. You can keep your membership for another year." "Very funny. Why do you have a dreidel?" "Uh-oh…" I shake my head at him disgustedly. "We might have to revoke the membership after all." "Do I have to remind you, I'm from Brooklyn?" "You really don't. But do I have to remind you that it's Chanukah?" "I know when Chanukah is. What I don't know, is why a grown man is playing with a dreidel?" "I wasn't playing with it." I smirk at him and motion to where he's spinning the dreidel on my desktop. "Actually, you're the one currently playing with it." He drops it. "Then why do you have it?" I heave a sigh. "Donna's trying to make me get in touch with my inner Jew." "Not a bad idea. I've been trying to get you to get in touch with your inner Jew since we met." "Very funny. I’m as Jewish as the next guy." "Right… if the next guy is Billy Graham. When was the last time you did anything remotely religious?" "Mmmm… I played with a dreidel this morning." "That's what I thought. So what brought this about? Why's Donna pushing you to play with a dreidel?" I get up and start walking for the door, as Toby follows me. "She thinks we're too focused on Christmas; she doesn't want me to feel like my faith is being pushed aside for hers." "You do a pretty good job of pushing your faith aside all by yourself. What’s so special about this year?" "Well, with us going to her parents in Wisconsin for Christmas…" As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I stop walking. "What!?" The usually-expressionless Toby is suddenly wide-eyed, and actually appears to be shaken by this news. Great, just what I need two weeks before the 23rd. The White House Communications Director shocked at my semi-secret relationship with Donna. I push him back into my office and shut the door. "Listen, we're being very careful and she starts her new job in January. Come on, you knew that it was just a matter of time after Thanksgiving…" With an amused shake of his head, he dismisses my protests. "I don't care about that. I just can't believe you are going on a trip, with a woman, to meet her parents at Christmastime." I cock my head at him. "Let me get this straight. You aren't upset that I'm in a relationship with my soon-to- be ex-assistant, but you're shocked and surprised that I'm not a complete emotional cripple when it comes to actually being in a relationship?" Toby chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. "You have to admit. You don't exactly have a track record that would suggest that you might be okay with traveling to a Midwestern city to spend two days-" "Four," I correct him. "What?" His jaw drops, yet again. "Four days. We'll be spending four days in Wisconsin with her parents." "How long have you been together, exactly? Did I miss something and you got married?" "No! Of course not. I told you at Thanksgiving, nothing was going on. That was pretty much our jumping-off point. Why would you ask that? And why are you interested? Usually you pay me not to talk about my personal life." "Yeah, well I'm hiding from the President; lesser of two evils. And I'm questioning the length of your relationship because you're going home to her parents, at a holiday, no less, after…" He stops and I can see the wheels turning. "Are you so whipped that you agreed to go to Christmas in Wisconsin the day you started dating?" "No!" I cry indignantly. "I most certainly did no such thing." He lifts a questioning eyebrow at me. "It was three days *after* we started dating that I agreed to Christmas in Wisconsin." "Oh, that's much better. I take it back. You're not at all whipped." "I'm not whipped." "I really think you might be." "So, what if I am…" He looks a bit taken aback by my admission. "Hmmm… interesting, admitting to being whipped… this is big news… CJ would pay a lot of money to have information like this…" "Here…" I toss at him some of the gelt that Donna left with the dreidel. "In exchange for your silence." He looks at the gold coins before unwrapping one, popping the chocolate in his mouth, and dropping the rest back on my desk. "Thanks. You keep the rest. If I know holidays with potential in-laws, you're going to need all the help you can get… trust me when I tell you to keep up your strength." *** The smell hits me the second I open my door. Someone has made themselves at home in my apartment. Hopefully, it's not an intruder. But if it is, at least they were considerate enough to make me a meal. I call out, "Donna?" "In here," she replies from the general direction of my kitchen. "What are you doing?" "Nothing. A surprise. Go wait in the living room." "Are you cooking?" "No." "Are you lying?" "Yes." She walks out of my kitchen. Her hair is back and a bit mussed, she's wearing an apron, and her cheeks are rosy from what I presume is the heat from cooking. I want her so badly right now. "What's going on? You told me you had to leave early to go Christmas shopping." "I might have lied." "Why?" "Well, you know what tonight is?" "The night before I leave for Japan?" "Besides that?" "The night you broke into my apartment and once again took over my kitchen?" "Well it's that night a little bit. But I was talking about Chanukah. Tonight is the third night of Chanukah." She says it with such excitement that I'm hard-pressed not to reward her with a smile. "Is that one of the important nights of Chanukah?" "Well, it is for us. Since you've worked me late the last two nights. "You already gave me a dreidel. Which I appreciated very much." I pat my pants pocket, where I stuffed it earlier. "I especially appreciate the conversation it begat with Toby." I sort of mutter the last part. "That's just the beginning…" I walk over to her and wrap my arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to her forehead before leaning back. "Listen, my little shiksa goddess, you do realize that Chanukah isn't as important a holiday to my people as Christmas is to your people." "Your people? My people?" She's shooting me an amused look. "We have people?" "Sure. Don't we?" "I'm not sure we do. We're kind of originals." That makes me smile. "Yes, we are at that. But my point is that it's not necessary to make a big production…" "I'm not making a big production. You assured me that you were celebrating Chanukah, but I get here and nothing. So we're two nights behind as it is; as of right now, there should be three candles burning! And then you're leaving for Japan tomorrow so we're not going to be able to observe any of the other nights. So we've got a lot of celebrating to cram into this evening." She flutters back into the kitchen, presumably to check on whatever food my mother conspired with her to fix. I sigh, but it's not without appreciation. I really love this woman. Should I tell her? Is it the right time? We still haven't really done the official date thing, but we've been spending as much time together as we possibly can. Discreetly. Something tells me that this isn't the right time. That I should wait until there's no stigma of her boss telling her that he loves her. I want to make sure it's just Josh that she hears those particular words from. Even if I think this stumbling block is only in her head. I follow her and stand in my kitchen door. "So what exactly do you have planned for this celebration of the wonder that is Chanukah?" "Well, I found the menorah in your storage area, right where your mom said she packed it. It was in a crate next to the china. And we are going to light three candles tonight to catch up and then we are going to eat these latkes, made from a recipe your mother gave me… and I rented Eight Crazy Nights." "Eight Crazy Nights?" "Yeah, it's an Adam Sandler cartoon about Chanukah." "An Adam Sandler cartoon? We're going to watch a cartoon?" "Animation, I should have said animation." "Do we have to watch it? I'm not sure renting a bad cartoon is really a part of the ancient celebration that is Chanukah. " "There aren't exactly an abundance of Chanukah movies, I did my best. If there was a Jewish equivalent of A Christmas Story, then I would have gotten it. I had to make do. Besides, you like Adam Sandler." "I do not." "Yes, remember when I caught you in that hotel in Dallas… watching Happy Gilmore on cable? You were giggling at it like a little girl." "I was not!" "I'm afraid you were." "Well, if I was, and I'm not saying I was, that movie is the exception." "You don't want to watch the movie I rented?" She's pouting. I might feel bad for making her pout, if she weren't so damn cute when she did it. "No, of course I want to watch the movie." She smiles brightly at me, so I push my luck by adding, "If we can make out during it?" She scowls at me, before saying, "Okay." "So, what else do you have planned to celebrate the Festival of Lights?" I ask as we walk back towards the kitchen. "This came for you today.” She detours over to the table by the door and starts rummaging in her purse. A few seconds later, she pulls out a plastic bag and hands me a package wrapped either by someone who had an aneurysm while they were wrapping it, or a small child. "It's great!" I say with feigned enthusiasm as I examine it closer. "What do you mean, it came for me today?" "It came for you from my niece and nephew." "Really?" I look at the package in confusion. "What is it?" "Open it." "Okay." I glance at her nervously as I tear open the bright red paper that's covered in candy canes. "Wow! Great…" I declare excitedly as I pull out the objects and search for clues as to what they might be. "You don't know what they are, do you?" She crosses her arms and smirks at me. "Not really," I confess, as I try and brush away some stray glitter that has already fallen off the… objects and onto my suit jacket. "Look, see…" She picks up the one that's covered in silver glitter. "It's the Star of David made out of Popsicle sticks and glitter. You kept admiring my Popsicle stick Christmas ornaments when we were decorating the tree and I might have mentioned that to my sister." "I did?" I remember poking fun at the Popsicle stick Christmas ornaments when we decorated the tree. Perhaps she mistook my witty quips for admiration? "You did. You said they were interesting and original." I might have said that. "So the kids made you these. For Chanukah." I hold the two misshapen six point stars – one covered in silver glitter and one covered in gold glitter-- at arms’ length so that I can admire them. Truly admire them. "This is really amazing." I smile at her genuinely. "I guess thoughtfulness runs in your family." This makes her blush. Have I mentioned lately how much I love it when she blushes? "They're really excited you're coming for Christmas." "Really?" Why this surprises me, I don't know. I guess I always figured that Donna's family wouldn't be all that excited about the idea of… well, me. "Yes. Now, stay out here and find some place to hang your new treasures, while I finish up in the kitchen." She starts walking away. "Donna?" She pauses and looks back at me expectantly. "Maybe we could hang them on your tree." "Really?" "If that's okay… I understand if you don't want them meshing with the angels..." "No… I mean, yeah, of course we can hang them on the tree and mesh them with my angels… that's great." She directs a thousand-watt smile at me. "But you still need to stay out here for another fifteen minutes." *** "How did I do?" "They're good." Why do I think he's lying? Probably because his voice went up an octave when he answered that question. "You hate them." "I don't hate them." "You do. I can tell." "Donna, they're fine." "Fine? Oh, boy. Who do you think you're dealing with? I can read you from a mile away. You hate them… I'm a failure as a girlfriend. You're going to go out and find a nice Jewish girl who can make decent latkes for Chanukah." He scowls for a minute and then I see a smirk form, as he begins shaking his head sadly at me. "Yeah, I'm afraid you're right. Do you know any nice Jewish girls who can make a decent latke that you could introduce me to?" I lunge at him from my seat. "Not amusing!" "It was your idea…" As I come at him, he catches me around the waist and pulls me onto his lap. So now I'm sitting sideways across him and his arms are around me as he nuzzles my neck. "Maybe you could hold auditions," he mumbles against my ear. "All the Jewish girls could come in and show how well they can cook traditional foods, and you and I could judge them together." "You think you're so funny." "I am funny. Hysterical, even." Now he's nibbling on my earlobe between words. "The problem being that considering these latkes; I'm not sure how good a judge you would end up being." Half-heartedly, I whap him on the shoulder, but I don't want to jostle him too much because then he might stop sucking on my ear. "I guess you're on your own picking your new girlfriend, then." Hmm… do you think my sarcastic rejoinder would have had more bite if I didn't moan as I said it? "Uh-oh. I suck at that. Nope, if you're not going to help me…" He's kissing his way down my jaw now. It's not unpleasant. "…then I guess you're just going to have to take the job yourself. Even if you burn the latkes." That stops me and I push away from him so I can see his face. "I burned them?" He moves his hands up so that his fingers are tangled in my hair and I notice his dimples are out in full force. "They're just a little over-fried." "I burned them…" I say thoughtfully as the truth hits me. "I burned them!" He knits his brow together. "You couldn’t tell?" I scowl down at him. "You were doing so well there, with the me-having-to-take-the-girlfriend-job-myself thing. And then you have to ruin it with mocking. Why? Why would you do that?" "No reason. They aren't burned or over-fried. They're perfect. And if we smother them in the applesauce, we won't even notice… that's what we always used to do." "Always used to do?" He pulls me towards him and kisses my cheek and then whispers, "My mom was prone to overcooking too…." "Really!? Great!" I exclaim excitedly. This is terrific news! "Yeah, so don't worry; I'm sure they're salvageable." "Yeah, great, they're salvageable, whatever… but your mother burned them too?" "Sometimes. And I won't even talk about the years she decided we needed to be more health-conscious… the mid-80s, I think. Added carrots and other superfluous vegetable-type things to them." He's making a face much worse than after he tasted mine. "A gallon of applesauce couldn't save those." "That's great!" He furrows his brow at me. "Why does that make you so happy?" "Because maybe the fact that I burned the latkes won't provoke disapproval from your mother…" "Donna, my mother isn't going to approve or disapprove of you based on whether you can cook latkes." I take a deep breath. This is something we haven't really talked about yet. "Have you told her yet? About us?" When we talked yesterday and I asked for the recipe, she didn't seem surprised; which led me to believe that perhaps she and Josh had talked about us. But she didn't say anything, either, and I figured that it was Josh's job to tell her things were changing between us. Just like it's my job to tell my parents that things have changed between me and my boss. And I plan to. Tomorrow, maybe. I know! He's coming home for Christmas with me and I haven't told my parents yet. But don't worry, they'll be thrilled. I'm certain of it. My brother and sister and their families are thrilled. Besides, if I wait long enough, the family grapevine will do its job and I won't have to bother telling them at all. But I look back up to Josh, because right now we're talking about his family, not mine. "So?" "Well, she's going to be thrilled." "But you haven't told her." "Not yet." He cringes under my gaze. "Why?" "Because I feel very weird just calling her up and announcing we're together." "Hmmm." I cross my arms in a pout. "Donna, it's not like it's going to come as that much of a shock to her." "Still…" "Do you want me to call her right now?" I nod. I realize I'm being a bit of a hypocrite here, but I can't help it. Besides, I think it will be a nice Chanukah gift for his mother. At least I hope it will be. *** Fifteen minutes later, we're off the phone with Josh's mother. And I needn't have worried about her reaction. She was pleased to say the least. There might have been a cry of joy. And I think she was especially thrilled when she got me to promise that we'd visit her during the spring. I'm pretty sure she regards me as her ticket to seeing her son more often. And she'd be right, family is important to me. Also, Josh told her my latkes were almost as good as hers. That tickled her as well as me. I appreciated the lie, on both our counts. Now the lights are all off in the living room and we're standing in front of the menorah. Josh hands me the server candle. I look at him questioningly, "Which direction? From the left or right?" "From the left." He smiles indulgently at me. Once the three candles are lit, he puts his arms around my waist and we stand looking at the tiny flames for several long minutes. Neither of us saying anything. Finally, I turn in his arms so that we are facing one another. Slowly, I run my hands up his arms and wind them into his hair. With great leisure, I pull him towards me until our lips meet. The kiss builds gradually… from chaste, gentle kisses to a more passionate and aggressive embrace. For the record, I’m the aggressor. My stomach flutters when he parts his lips under my probing tongue and they begin to tangle deliciously. As my thumbs caress his neck, I feel Josh's arms snake around me and he pulls me closer. Several minutes later, we breathlessly pull away from one another. He looks at me with mild surprise. "Wow. What was that?" "Your Chanukah gift. Since we decided to wait and do presents at Christmas. That was your present for the first night." His eyes go wide. "Is there a present for the second night?" "That… but more." I smile seductively at him. "I get eight of those?" "Yup… and by night seven, I'm planning on letting you get to second base." "Night seven was always my favorite!" "That's what I thought." *** We're curled up on my couch. Yup, the same couch where we first declared our thankfulness for one another, as well as the first place we kissed. Those are the kinds of things I'd never thought I'd remember in a relationship, but that night is one that I know I'll never forget. I nuzzle her cheek with mine. "Toby was surprised that I'm going home with you for Christmas so soon." She pulls back slightly and she's trying to hide it, but I can tell she's a little alarmed by what I just said. She doesn't meet my eye. "Oh… how come?" "He thought committing to such a thing was out of character for me." "Oh… what do you think?" I stuff my hand into my pocket, pull out the dreidel she gave me that morning at the office, and hand it to her. She takes it and spins it around in her palm. Stopping her motion, I point to the Hebrew letters. "Do you know what they are?" She shakes her head and looks at me inquiringly. Turning the top, I point to each. "Nun, gimmel, hey, and shin." As she nods, thoughtfully taking it all in, I ask, "Do you know what they mean?" "No, what?" Her voice is soft. "A great miracle happened there." "Hmmm." She sighs and leans back into me. "I always liked the story of Chanukah." That makes me smile. "You know why I'm showing this to you?" She shakes her head slightly. "Because it's true. You're my miracle. You being here with me, like this… I regard that as nothing short of a miracle. So no, I don't think me, going anywhere with you, is out of character." "Josh?" I feel her arms wrap even tighter around my midsection. "Yeah?" I whisper into her ear and kiss her temple. "You're my miracle, too." The End. |