The falling snow had grown more intense as the thermometer dropped. The cafeteria had been packed with people not willing to brave the miserable weather. Becky had gone down late, about twenty after twelve, holding her little lunch bag. Every seat had been taken, except one.
When she eyed the empty chair opposite Sam Golden, she’d swallowed and decided to return to her cubicle. He’d looked up at her right before she turned toward the door.
“Have a seat,” he’d said, as casually as if they had been bosom buddies for years. “Come on. Don’t be shy. If you eat at your desk, you’ll get crumbs all over your computer.” He’d risen and pulled out the chair. Becky had plopped down.
Sam extended his hand. “I’m Sam Golden. Production Manager.”
“Becky Cohen. Lowly admin assistant,” she’d replied, taking his hand.
His had been warm and strong and much larger than hers. Even then, upon first meeting, his touch had caused a reaction. Once the ice had been broken, Becky’s shyness around him melted away. She never missed a bad weather day in the cafeteria. It had almost become an unspoken agreement to meet there if the wind howled or rain flooded the sidewalk.
She sighed. Nope, Sam Golden wasn’t an acquaintance, he qualified as a friend. They had discussed everything from politics to growing up Jewish. She’d always wondered if he’d ever ask her out, and now that he had, was she ready? Damn right she was.
She rummaged through her closet and found a bag her parents had bought her to carry her laptop. She unplugged the machine and put it in. Then she fished a satin teddy and matching tap pants from her top drawer. After folding them, she slid them in the bag, along with some toilet articles, a pair of leggings and a long T-shirt to wear on the plane.
She had time for a brief nap, a shower, then dressing for dinner. Sam pulled up in front of the fire hydrant near her building. Becky joined him. He popped the trunk, lifted her luggage inside, and opened the door for her.
Becky slid across the leather seat. Sam drove a silver Rav 4, not a showy sports car, but definitely a man’s car. He joined her and put the vehicle in gear.
“We’re going to a little French place I like, near the theater district. You like French food?”
“Mais oui, Monsieur.” And her father had said studying French wasn’t practical. What did he know?
Sam chuckled, shot her a sly grin and replied. “Touché.”
“French was one of my favorite classes in college.”
“Juniata College, right?”
“You have a good memory.”
“In the boonies in Pennsylvania.”
“An excellent memory.”
“Is that why you came to New York?”
“One of my reasons. It was small. I felt choked. And the publishing industry is here.”
“Of course.”
He pulled into a parking lot and handed the attendant the key. With a hand on her lower back, he guided her into Chez Louis, a small, elegant French Bistro. The walls were a smoky teal blue, the tablecloths cream colored. There was a tiny vase holding two perfect pink roses. The crystal wine glasses gleamed in the soft lighting as did the fleur-de-lis patterned silverware.
Becky translated the menu for Sam. He ordered the wine the waiter recommended—a glass for each.
“If I have to get up at four, I shouldn’t drink too much tonight,” she said, half to Sam, but more to herself.
He nodded. “You must be excited about going home.”
“I am. Mom is coming home Monday morning. I’ll have a day to get the house ready.”
He quirked an eyebrow.
“Are you kidding? My two brothers and my father have been there for a week on their own. The place is probably a disaster area. That would stress my mom out. She’d run around picking things up and cleaning. Then probably end up back in the hospital.”
“You’re a good daughter.”
“I feel so guilty being here instead of there. Not just missing Hanukkah but not cooking for my dad.”
“And your brothers?”
“They share an apartment downtown, but I think they moved back in with Dad after Mom got sick.”
“You have a nice family.”
“Thanks. I’m lucky.”
“Me, too.”
The wine arrived and they placed their orders. While they chatted, Sam slipped his hand over hers. Once again, his touch ignited a fire. Becky sublimated her sexual desire into an appetite for food. The waiter brought trout almandine and potatoes au gratin for her and seared hangar steak for Sam.
She dug into her meal as if she hadn’t eaten in a week. When she finished, she buttered a piece of French bread, and wolfed that down.
“Are you still hungry?” he asked.
Oh, yes, she was, but not for food. The candlelight sent shadows across the planes of his face. His nose, slightly long was straight, leading to a sensuous mouth. His eyes glowed in the candlelight. Shadow darkened the color of the scruff on his face. While he talked, she studied him. Handsome in an unconventional, masculine way, his looks appealed to her. He dressed well, wearing a navy sports jacket and gray pants. His blue-and-gold striped tie set off his white shirt pressed to perfection. But the best part about Sam was the broad, warm smile. Every time he shined it on her, she melted.
After dinner, they headed to his place. Because the rest of the world was on their way to their holiday destinations already, they found parking on the street in front of his building. He held the door. Expectations kicked up her nerves. When he unlocked the door, anticipation mixed with shyness made her stumble over the threshold. Sam caught her elbow.
“You okay?”
“I didn’t drink that much. Just a little nervous, I guess.” She collapsed onto the sofa. Sam put her small bag down by the coffee table. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to jump you or anything.”
“Oh? Too bad. I was looking forward to it.” A sly smile graced her lips.
When Sam burst out laughing, the tension evaporated like mist in the August sun. He joined her on the sofa and launched a steamy make-out session. Pushing away, Becky drew a deep breath and glanced at her watch.
“It’s eight thirty. If we’re going to leave early, maybe we’d better go to bed.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Sam said, loosening his tie.
This time it was Becky’s turn to laugh. She picked up her bag and disappeared into the bedroom. She undressed and slid the slinky teddy and tap pants on. Then she scooted into the bathroom to wash up.
By the time she came out, Sam had already stripped down to his boxers and was spreading a blanket over the sofa. Becky stood at the archway that separated the living room from the hallway and cleared her throat.
When he turned around, she swallowed, seeing him bare-chested for the first time. Sam had talked about working out on the weekends, but she’d never imagined his body would look quite so buff. His chest appeared firm, partially covered by light brown hair that led from slightly bulging pecs down to his trim waist.
“Holy Hell. Do you actually sleep in that?” he asked.
The heat from his gaze practically melted the skimpy material barely covering her body.
“Sometimes,” she squeaked out. She stretched out her arm, her palm facing him. “Come.”
A quizzical look shot across his face. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. Hell, yes, never been more damn sure of anything in my life.
Two seconds later, he was by her side. “You look awesome. Are you completely sure about this?”
“I am.”
“I don’t want to rush you.”
“We’ve known each other for a year.”
“When you put it that way.” He took her in his arms, lowering his mouth to hers. Sam backed them into the bedroom and shut the door with his foot.
Chapter Five
Becky yawned in the car as it pulled up to the departure section of Newark Airport.
“You didn’t get much sleep. Sorry.” Sam put the car in
park and popped the trunk.
“I’m not. I’ve never been so happy to be exhausted in my life.” She grinned at him.
Sam chuckled as he got out and set her bag on the curb. A representative of the airline took her luggage. She flashed her ID at him and her boarding pass. Sam stood close, his hand resting on her shoulder.
“Please don’t rekindle any old relationships in Milwaukee, okay?”
“Don’t worry. I won’t.” She tipped the airline man, and he took her suitcase away.
“Good.”
Sam took her hand and led her inside. They approached the security line slowly. Becky hated to say goodbye. Her night with Sam had been a sexy, loving, mutual exploration.
“I’ve waited a long time. I don’t want to lose you now.”
“You won’t. And don’t you find someone else while I’m gone.”
He grinned. “There is no one else like you.”
Her heart swelled. “It’s only a week.”
“Yeah. About seven days too long.”
Getting up on tiptoe, she whispered in his ear. “I’ll count the hours.”
Ignoring the early morning crowd, Sam eased her into his embrace for a steamy kiss. When they broke, she ran for the security line, hating to say goodbye. She couldn’t resist glancing back. Backing toward the exit, Sam raised his hand in farewell. Becky sighed. Tears wetted her eyes.
“Coming back after the holidays?” a woman asked her.
Too choked up to speak, Becky nodded.
“He’ll be here then. It’s only a few days.”
“But it’ll seem like a lifetime,” she replied.
The woman patted her on the back. “You’re next, honey.”
Safely buckled into her seat, Becky closed her eyes, reliving her steamy night with Sam. He’d been passionate and tender. The way he’d kissed her and touched her had ignited a flame that still burned. He had a few years on her, years she guessed he’d spent perfecting his lovemaking. She’d never had a night like that with any other man. Sam had taken control, making sure to arouse her to the point she’d reach satisfaction before he took his pleasure. She could hardly wait for more time between the sheets with her unselfish lover.
A small sigh escaped her lips. Opening her eyes, she looked around to see if anyone had noticed. The older woman sitting in the seat next to her spoke.
“He must be some guy.”
Becky felt heat in her face. “He is,” she replied. Then shut her eyes again.
As the plane taxied down the runway, Becky remembered resting in Sam’s arms, snatching what little sleep they could, snuggled together. Shortly after the aircraft left the ground, she conked out and awoke as the plane began its descent.
Jostled by the hustle and bustle on board as people took down luggage from the overhead racks and jockeyed for position to deplane, Becky’s heartbeat quickened. Her family waited for her. Damn, she’d be overjoyed to lay eyes on her pesky older brothers and her father. Her pulse thudded in her ears. She hadn’t expected to miss them so much.
As she neared the baggage carousel, she heard a familiar bark or two. There they were, David and Joe with the pugs. Becky ran to them, hugging her brothers as the dogs leaped up, anxiously trying to lick her face. When she’d done with the men, she bent down and snuggled with Trixie and Norton. They slobbered her with wet tongues and much love.
“What color is your suitcase?” David asked.
Within minutes, Becky and the entourage were ensconced in the car, heading for home.
“How’s Mom?” she asked.
Her brothers gave her the latest information and assured her their mother was scheduled to return on Monday morning.
“She’ll be home for the last night of Hanukkah,” Joe said.
“That’s great. How’s Dad holding up?”
“We’d be glad if you could do the cooking. Dad has a lot to learn,” Joe said.
“I’ve lost five pounds on his meals,” David piped up.
“I’m on it.” Becky leaned back. With a pug on either side of her, she petted them each in turn. Happiness filled her veins. Her life, previously in the slow lane had ratcheted up to the fast track.
“You guys’ll have to give me some work time.”
“You brought work home? Oy. Dad’s not going to approve.”
“But it’s the best kind of work. Let me tell you about Gordon Albright’s new book.”
Becky took over the conversation, bringing her brothers up to date on her almost-promotion and the task she had to complete to get there. She kept information about Sam to herself. Long ago, Becky learned not to divulge anything about any guy she dated to her brothers. They’d tease her incessantly and ask about the guy daily. If she said one negative thing about him, her brothers offered to beat him up.
For the time being, Sam Golden would remain her secret—a delicious secret she’d savor in private.
IT WAS ALMOST NINE a.m. when Becky walked into the house. She unleashed the pups while her brothers carried her luggage up to her room. Her father sat at the kitchen table, finishing a bagel and coffee.
He rose to greet her. Shocked at how thin and pale he was, she hugged him tight.
“I’m so glad you’re home,” he said, his voice tired.
“Me, too, Dad.”
He broke from her. “It was touch-and-go for a while.” He returned to his seat and sipped coffee.
Becky refilled his mug and offered some to her brothers. She then filled her own. Together they took up all the seats, except one, at the table. Her father went into details of her mother’s illness. From time-to-time, Becky squeezed his hand. When his voice faltered, as it did only twice, her heart broke.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” Her words were barely audible.
Her father patted her hand. “It’s okay. You have your own life. That’s the way it should be.”
Becky lowered her gaze to her mug.
“Finish up. Your mother’s expecting us at noon. We’ve gotta pick up a corned beef sandwich from Harry’s for her.”
“Might as well get one for all of us,” Joe said.
“Is that a slam on my sandwich making?” Becky’s father, Fred, replied.
“Let’s be honest. You didn’t exactly miss a career at Harry’s, Dad,” David put in.
With chuckles all around, the family donned their warmest coats and piled into the car. Becky couldn’t wait to lay eyes on her beloved mother.
She stood back so the men could enter the room first. Becky leaned against the door jamb and let the shock of how frail her mother appeared sink in. Then their eyes met.
“Becky?” Myra’s voice wobbled.
“Mom!” Becky strode in and plopped down on the bed, snuggling her face into her mother’s shoulder and burst into tears.
When she stopped, David touched her back.
“Let’s eat. Ma’s probably starving. I know I am.”
Sandwiches and pickles were passed out. The family balanced their food on their laps while Myra Cohen’s food sat on the table they moved to her bed.
“I’m coming home tomorrow, Becky. Here’s a list of things I want you to do before we celebrate the last night of Hanukkah. Okay?”
“Sure, Mom.” She took the piece of paper.
Peppered with questions from her family, Becky answered the ones about work, how she liked New York, her roommates, and colleagues—and managed to skirt any asking about her love life. Not wanting to lie to her family, Becky wasn’t ready to discuss anything about Sam. Besides, it was early and there wasn’t much to tell—that is, much she could repeat to her family.
After lunch, they returned home. Becky headed to her room for a nap.
“I’ll wake you up in time to make dinner,” Joe called up the stairs.
“You do that.” The dogs followed her upstairs, jumped up on the bed, and cuddled close. She fell asleep with her arms around the pugs, dreaming about Sam.
After her nap, the evening went quickly. She prepared a simple, de
licious meal. They lit the lights, saving gift exchange for the last night when Mrs. Cohen would be with them. Becky turned in early.
She said a prayer before going to sleep. Grateful that her mother was alive, she included special words for her. Becky vowed to spend the week cooking up a storm to get her mother’s strength back and put the family on an even keel once more.
In the morning, before they headed to the hospital, Becky got a text from Sam.
Can you come back early, for New Year’s Eve?
She repliedI’ll see if I can change my plane reservation.
While David drove, Becky used her phone to reschedule her flight back to New York. The rest of the day was lost in transferring their mother to the house, preparing applesauce, potato latkes, wrapping packages amid general teasing and mayhem.
The warmth of her family’s love filled Becky’s heart. During dessert, Joe insisted on playing Dreidel with the chocolate chip cookies Becky had baked. Each took a turn at spinning. When the dreidel came up Gimel for Becky, she laughed. Gimel meant all.
“You keep the cookies,” she said, forfeiting her win of the entire pot. “I already have it all.”
“I guess Hanukkah isn’t cancelled,” said her father.
“Just postponed,” David said.
“This could actually be my best Hanukkah ever,” Becky piped up.
Epilogue
Becky’s heartbeat jumped as the plane touched down in New York City. Sam had promised to pick her up. She could hardly stand waiting until it was her turn to deplane. As she hurried to the baggage claim area, a voice called out.
“Becky! Beck!” A hand waving in the air drew her attention.
There was Sam, handsome as ever, his smile warm. She quickened her pace. He scooped her into a tight hug, followed by a hungry kiss.
“Welcome back,” he said, his breath warm on her hair.
She cuddled into his embrace, resting her cheek against his jacket as he stroked her back. Suddenly, New York City felt like home.
Hanukkah Hearts Page 5