Page 68 of Someone Just Like You

I sucked in a breath. Did he sense someone watching him?

In what felt like slow motion, he turned his head toward the window. Our eyes met.

I pleaded with mine.I’m sorry. Forgive me.

He didn’t answer.

An eternity passed until his head snapped back to a waiting customer.

I left before he looked over again, mostly because I was afraid he wouldn’t.

Chapter Thirty-One

The first night of Hanukkah was the following weekend, and I headed to my childhood home to celebrate with my family. I still hadn’t spoken to Jude.

Nani placed a paper towel in front of me on the kitchen table. On it was a sizzling latke straight from the frying pan. She kissed the top of my head. “I love thiskeppe.”

I beamed up at her. “I love your head too, Nani.”

The scent of potatoes and onions frying in oil had been wafting through the kitchen for the last twenty minutes, and I was finally able to sample the merchandise. Nani was the queen of the potato pancake and had assumed command of the kitchen. Mom was in the four-bedroom house somewhere, and my dad? Well, I had no idea where he was today. If I could forget my own romantic troubles for more than five minutes, I’d probably be consumed with theirs.Hashtag: bright side.I blew on the hot latke before taking a bite.

“Is Jude across the street? I’m sorry I missed the big announcement at Thanksgiving,” Nani said.

To keep my mouth occupied, I finished the potato pancake and resumed staring at my open and long-dormant text exchange with Jude. In what had become a relentless nasty habit, I crossed my fingers, hoping I’d catch him in the process of writing me back.

Our entire senior year of high school had been fraught with misunderstandings. Jude’s running for the election had nothing to do with me, yet beating me was an unavoidable side effect. My justification for tattling on him for accidentally breaking Mom’s dresser was to distract my parents from fighting. Yet Jude missed the ski trip as a result. It was like one big game of dominoes, but neither of those incidents changed our lives in any meaningful long-standing way. Unpremeditated or not, I couldn’t say the same about beating the shit out of his bike tire with a wire hanger.

He was never going to forgive me.

The front door swung open. Little-girl footsteps and squeals saved me from further questioning as Eris ran into the kitchen and straight into her bubbe Nina’s arms. My niece knew the family hierarchy at Hanukkah. She’d already chomped her way through one pancake when Michelle and Patrick, holding a sleeping Henry, entered the kitchen. A few minutes later, Nicole and Dean returned from the mall, and we lit the menorah and said the Hanukkah blessings.

For the next hour and a half, each time someone mentioned Jude, I had to “use the bathroom,” “make an urgent phone call,” or “check something in the oven.”

I stood and stacked a couple of dirty dishes. Clearing the table was another excuse to leave the dining room before anyone brought up the “J” word.

“The Starks will be here soon for coffee and Bubbe’s famous jelly donuts.”

Crash.

“Molly!” Mom yelled.

“Ithadto happen.” Nicole chuckled.

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t use the fancy plates?” Michelle asked.

“Sorry!” I bent to collect the shards of what used to be two Disney Princess ceramic dinner plates. My family continued to speak around me, but I could only focus on one thing—the Starks were coming over. Jude wouldn’t be with them…no way…but I’d still have to face the wrath of Laura, who’d want my ass on a platter for hurting her youngest son, and Randy, who’d blame me, rightfully, for ruining his son’s chances of making it into the National Baseball Hall of Fame.

The doorbell rang. I finished sweeping the broken plates into the trash and wiped my clammy hands on my blue jeans. Did I have time to slip out the back door and take a long walk (or two) around the block? Would anyone notice my absence?

Noises sounded from the hallway.

“Happy Hanukkah!”

Mwah, Mwah.

“Good to see you.”

Smooch, smooch.

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