Imaginary Lines (New York Leopards 3)

She grinned guiltily.

Ryan put his arm around her. “I am a superior latke flipper. It’s one of my many skills.”

They’d strung up the apartment with decorations for both holidays, but they’d had us arrive early so we could light the menorah. “I used to host Shabbat dinners for the team—for Abe,” Rachael said, rolling her eyes at him, “but they quickly devolved into Friday night potlucks. I like that better. I don’t really like being the center of attention, and especially not reciting things in front of other people.”

So it was just the four of us who sat there and lit the two candles, which was cozy and nice and familiar. Rachael’s melody was a smidgen different from Abe’s and mine, but that didn’t surprise me too much. I’d once gone to a temple and they sang all their songs with different melodies, which had been a baffling experience.

Even Ryan sang along, slower than the rest of us and completely skipping the guttural chet, but it made his girlfriend smile proudly and kiss him on the forehead.

Briana and Malcolm showed up next, followed quickly by Mike O’Connor and Natalie Sullivan. Then people kept coming into the apartment, and the night was a mix of every holiday song I’d ever heard. We ate enough to be sick, and laughed until our stomachs hurt.

Three days later, we went to my aunt Beth’s apartment for latkes and candle lighting. While Abe and I had outed ourselves to our entire family over Thanksgiving, this was technically the first time we were going anywhere as a couple, and I found myself unaccountably nervous.

Besides, Aunt Beth and Shoshi could be a little more overpowering than the rest of our family.

Abe noticed me fluttering around my apartment before we left, dragging clothes out of my closet and then throwing them back with a scowl. He’d brought his laptop this afternoon and had spent most of the day watching game tapes, but now he turned them off. “What’s wrong?”

“My family.”

“Hey.” He came over and cupped my face in his large hands. “It’s going to be okay.”

I took a deep breath. “You’re right. Okay.”

We arrived at their apartment at ten past six. The door swung open to reveal Aunt Beth, a tall, thin women who looked like my mom, if my mom had married a doctor with a grand to drop on appearances each week. “Why, hello there, darling. Oh, and Abraham. How nice to see you again.” She folded both of us in fleeting embraces, smelling of heady perfume.

While Rachael and Ryan’s real estate probably cost more than my aunts, and while Abe and his entire team certainly had more money than Aunt Beth and Uncle George and their friends, my mother’s sister definitely felt much more imposing than any of the guys. Their apartment was furnished with old furniture and rich rugs, and everyone spoke in soft voices and felt vaguely claustrophobic.

Shoshi snared us before we’d gone far and dragged us into her childhood room. “Thank God you’re here. I’ve just been listening to Dad’s business partner tell me about his new biomarker or whatever for like the third time

in a row. Hello, Abe. I’ve decided that if you’re going to stick around I’d like you to fix me up with one of your teammates.”

Abe shot me a look, and then a similar one at my cousin. “You’re mad, you know that?”

“Mad and bored. Look, we just have to get through the evening, and then Mom’ll give us all presents, and then we can escape. Here, I snagged some wine.” She poured us all glasses and then downed half right away. “God. Family.”

I gave her an impulsive hug. “Some family’s all right.”

She swatted me away. “Ew, you really are in love. I can’t stand lovey-dovey couples. Great.”

I waved at Abe. “Except for my full roster of potential boyfriends.”

She brightened. “Right. Okay.”

Abe shook his head. “You’re both ridiculous.”

After a protective glass of wine, the three of us headed out. It was actually a fun evening, to all three of our surprise. We played dreidel with some elderly friends of her parents, and then Abe schooled us all in a few rounds of poker. Shoshi ran interference on her parents, so Abe only had to answer a few prying questions. At the end Aunt Beth gave all of us designer coffee and chocolate.

“You know what?” I told Abe as we walked back to his place. “It took a couple of months, but this place feels like home now.” I tugged my hat down a little more securely over my ears. “A little too cold, for sure. But I like it here.”

Abe smiled down at me, and I impulsively stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. Then I slipped my hand in his. He was home. Everything else here was wonderful, and I loved my job and friends and roommates, but honestly, Abraham was home. He was happiness and magic and everything I’d ever wanted. I’d never really believed in miracles, but there he was. A miracle. My miracle.

Better than long-lasting oil any day.

Chapter Twenty-One

That Sunday, the fifteenth game of the regular season, everyone in the press box chattered excitedly, even the reporters who didn’t usually talk. The Leopards game against the Bisons had been long anticipated; their rivalry was heated and legendary, and if the Leopards won this game, they’d clinch their shot at the playoffs.

At halftime, we were leading 17-11, but by the fourth quarter they’d tied the score. We could barely breathe for worry. When Abe intercepted a drive, I let out a breath of relief, and smiled triumphantly as he cradled the ball and ran parallel to the ten-yard line.