Yonah raised his eyebrows at her, bemused. “Abrupt, yes. Also, honest. You don’t want to go to my parents for the first days?”

Y

onah set the two Tradition soups on the counter. It was the only thing Estee had been eating this week, and he decided to get involved. Better than Fruity Pebbles again; that had been lunch.

“Thanks,” she said weakly, taking one with shaking hands.

She’d been doing a lot better, but then she’d caught a cold, and was now completely wiped out. Yonah felt terrible for her. He also kept trying to remember life before the nausea and fatigue and was kind of drawing a blank.

They sipped in companionable silence. Autumn had turned the evening air chilly, and soup lent a cozy atmosphere to the small apartment.

“So Ma wants to know which half of Succos we’re going to be in Boston,” he said, walking to the cupboard to get out a bag of chips. You know, for a balanced meal.

Estee wrinkled her nose as he opened the package of barbecue kettle-cooked, but didn’t say anything.

“I’d like to go first half, if that’s okay, considering it’ll be my last Yom Tov in my childhood home.”

“No,” Estee said. Then she clapped her hand to her mouth. “Sorry, that came out so abrupt.”

Yonah raised his eyebrows at her, bemused. “Abrupt, yes. Also, honest. You don’t want to go to my parents for the first days?”

Estee bit her lip. “I just… first days I want to be at home, with my parents and siblings. I’m still feeling so yuck. Hopefully, by the second days, I’ll be feeling a little better and then I’ll be up to traveling and being a guest.”

Yonah nodded but he couldn’t help the annoyance that flashed through him. His childhood home was important to him… he’d enjoyed Succos there for 21 years. But it made sense she’d want to be with her family.

He also wished Estee didn’t still feel like a guest in Boston, but no use pushing the point — they wouldn’t be going to Boston for much longer. At least they’d be there for one last epic Simchas Torah.