Page 36 of Weekends with You

The table was long and thin, made of unfinished wood and surrounded by colorful mismatched chairs.

I fished a tartan runner from the depths of a basket in the makeshift pantry and used it to line the table, draping it over the ends. We had no nice dishes, but at least the ones we had were a stark white that looked polished and seasonal against the runner and the flowers. I set out silverware the way my parents used to, careful to arrange it in the appropriate positions, although I knew full well no one in the apartment would give it a second thought.

“Oh, Lucy, I almost forgot,” Liv said. “I picked up a little something else while we were on Oxford Street as a surprise for you. Let me grab it. It’ll be perfect for the table.” She disappeared into her room, returning a moment later with a small gift bag.

“You really shouldn’t have—” I started.

“Just open it.”

Inside, wrapped in tissue paper, was a little silver menorah and a packet of birthday candles.

“Sorry about the candles,” Liv said. “That’s all I could find.”

I threw my arms around her before she could finish apologizing. This might have been a small gesture for Liv, but it was a big deal for me. Sometimes it felt like London had fewer Jewish people than the Vatican, especially around the holidays, and I was delighted to feel seen.

“Liv, this is the sweetest gift I’ve ever gotten. The candles are perfect. The menorah is perfect.” I squeezed her again. “Thank you.”

“It was a selfish gift,” she joked. “I’ve never celebrated Hanukkah before, but I’ve always wanted to.”

“Then we’ll have to light a candle together.” She squealed and returned to the kitchen, and I took an extra second toadmire the menorah on the table. It didn’t matter that the holiday didn’t start for another week. If the season was about giving, Liv had really nailed it.

“Cal, how’d you get so good at a full English?” I asked, plating what felt like a hundred pieces of toast.

“As soon as I moved in here and this lot learned I could cook, they didn’t leave me much of a choice,” he laughed. It was a nice laugh. There was something warm and genuine about Cal that reminded me of most British grandfathers. He looked kind of tough on the outside, what with his thick beard and heavy hands, but he was much softer on the inside. His girlfriend was very lucky.

Liv rallied the rest of the apartment as Cal and I brought the food to the table, and everyone emerged in various levels of hangover. How Liv wasn’t the most hungover of the lot was a mystery, but I think the holiday spirit was to blame. She must have woken up for this brunch like it was Christmas morning and forgotten all about last night. How I wished I could have done that.

Henry was somehow more of a dish half asleep than he’d been at the party. His hair, which he seemed to have no intention of cutting, was tangled in all the right ways, and his ratty old T-shirt exposed an inch of skin above his joggers that begged to be touched.

“It looks like a proper Christmas morning in here,” Finn said, flopping into a chair at the table. “Well done, you three.” The rest of the roommates echoed his comments, adding how hungry they were and how much they regretted drinking so much last night.

“How was your first Warehouse Holiday Party, Lu?” Raja asked with twinkling eyes.

“Great, thanks,” I said, shooting her a look that saidI’ll killyou if you say anything else.She rubbed her hands together like a cartoon villain but otherwise dropped the conversation. I knew we would have to dish at some point, but I needed to make sense of things myself first.

Once everyone was seated, Liv took the head of the table with a giant bag of gifts on the chair in front of her.

“First of all,” she began, “I’d like to thank everyone for getting me into bed safely last night.” We gave a light clap and a few cheers, but she quieted us down so she could continue. “And I’d like to thank you for sparing me stories of all the embarrassing things I probably did. Would be brilliant if we could continue keeping those under wraps. But more important, happy holidays.” She raised a glass. “I’m glad we could be together today, even if just for a quick breakfast before everyone parts ways. You lot are like family, and I think we’re quite lucky to have found each other.”

“God, Liv, do you have to be so sappy at this hour?” Margot moaned, but even she couldn’t hide her smile.

“She has to be sappy at every hour,” Jan said.

“He’s right. And before I’m done, I have a little something for everyone.” She distributed the gift bags we’d put together the day before, which everyone tore into at once.

“Don’t make fun,” Liv said. “Socks and dessert are apparently the only things all eight of us have in common.”

“They’re perfect,” Henry said, pulling the socks onto his feet, exposing his lower back in the process. “Thanks, Liv.”

“To Liv,” Jan said, and we toasted.

“Are we lighting this thing or what?” Finn said, gesturing to the menorah like an eager toddler. “Lucy, this is your job, right?”

“It is,” I said. I put one of the birthday candles in the middle and another on the far right end and accepted Jan’s profferedlighter to do the honors. I said a quiet prayer in Hebrew, then lit the candles to the sound of applause. I wasn’t quite sure I’d ever been applauded for this before, but it felt good nonetheless.

“Thanks, Liv, and everyone, for doing this with me.”

“You’re family now, too,” Raja said. “Which means your traditions are our traditions.”

---