"But we don't need to go through all of that again," Adon quickly protested for not the first time during dinner.  His mother was enjoying herself--and Jonas and Raizel a bit too much, with her--eyes crinkling as she revisited what might possibly have been every single mortifying moment that had occurred during practically any Jewish holiday in his existence.  Setting fire (accidentally) to the sukka when he was five, intentionally and "helpfully" scorching almost everything in the pantry, bred and all, in preparation for Pesach, and even rather unremarkable fact that Adon had been a policeman every year until he was twelve for Purim seemed to have elicited laughter.

And they wondered why he didn't like costumes...

Still, despite the glower, this teasing felt normal.  Which Adon had not hoped to feel tonight.  "If this carries on," he added, hoping to bring the conversation to a definitive close, "you will be out of stories for Purim."

At this, Hestia broke out into a series of light cackles.  "My dear boy--your faculties for self-humiliation are quite magical--they are simply inexhaustible!"  Adon rolled his eyes and began to poke the remains of his meal with the gold fork.  From across the table, his mother looked at him quite pointedly.  He gave a defeated sigh, before leaning back in his chair and giving a forced, exaggerated smile.  Today was a day for change.  And he was forcing it--at least upon himself, and a bit upon others.

For starters, the room looked unrecognizable--which, for Adon, had been entirely the point.  Adon had arrived early that afternoon bearing armfuls of decorations in blue, silver, and gold as an offering for Kiva's big dinner--the Dinner to End All Dinners... or at least Hanukkah.  Adon himself had spent the better part of an hour dragging couches, armchairs, and diningtables about--emphatically declining the assistance of Raizel who, it was rumored, had nearly lost over half of the Eleor-Katz living room furniture last time she had tried her own rearranging. Raizel and Akiva had been working away in the kitchen--Adon had kept to his area, and they to theirs. 

By the time Hestia and the Trevelyans had arrived, the table had been magically expanded to fill the modest lining room and stretch into the living room, several new chairs added--and a warm glow emanated from the scores of candles delicately bobbing overhead.  The table was covered in a rich cerulean brocade which, in Adon's humble aesthetic opinion, set off the gold Eleor flatware quite nicely.  One would have been hard-pressed to identify even the basic orientation of the room--such as which seat had customarily been Dree's.  It made it easier--even if it did feel a bit like a betrayal--to cover the void, and hope to enjoy the evening.

In fact, Adon had been so determined to be pleased with this evening, that he'd even allowed his mother to carry on as she had.  He even let his mother's description of the whole affair as "grand" to be not the least bit ironic--but then, the compliment was probably intended to go to Akiva, their host of the evening, who had been in the kitchen at least twice as long as Adon had been in the front rooms. 

"Well I'm sure Gwenna or Archie's done worse," Adon said, looking hopefully towards Jonas.  "Aaand, Gabe's already spit up all over the floor and tablecloth twice."  A momentary pause. "We cleaned it."

Akiva was so glad that everyone had agreed to let her host. 

It made the house so much more comfortable and full of light and life.  Hestia was telling stories and the rich smell of food filled the house.  Adon had arrived early while she and Raizel were preparing the dinner and had helped decorate. 

Hestia had seemed to be impressed, which was enough for her, and having the Trevelyans over, it was nice to have a comfortable and beautiful space.  She could totally immerse herself in the project.  Adon seemed to do the same. 

He had really pulled out all of the stops too.  Akiva was impressed.  She probably wouldn’t have pegged him for the type to want to do that sort of thing – but just like she had gone almost mad in the kitchen trying to make everything as perfect as it could be because to do anything less would have her thinking about how their son’s first Hanukkah was without his father was almost too much to bear, as she had realized rocking him to sleep the previous evening, perhaps Adon too was finding ways to cope.

If the sight was to be believed, it didn’t even look like their home anymore, which was both alarming and relaxing at the same time.  It seemed though, that dinner was going well, and she smiled at Raizel, giving her a discreet thumb’s up over the dishes that she had helped put together, glad that there were tasks enough to keep the witch away from their furniture again, and that despite her seeming lack of domestic skills, she was actually rather talented. 

With a little more work, Akiva figured she might be able to cook her under the table with some dishes.  Well… maybe she was getting ahead of herself… but still.  As much as Raizel taught her, Akiva hoped she was doing a little bit of the same. 

And it appeared everyone was at least having a good time – except for Adon who was trying very hard, it appeared, to endure every embarrassing story Hestia wanted to tell, which were, of course, making the mood light and everyone laugh – maybe with the exception of Adon.   

He was being a good sport about it, however, and some of the tension that could have marked the whole occasion was at least a little less pressing, even with the stories floating about and the obvious lack of her husband’s presence. She had wondered, briefly, if they should have had a seat for him, but the sting in her heart was enough to know the reminder would loom, even more so than it already did. 

“Speaking of Gabriel,” Akiva smiled, pushing her chair back and standing, smoothing out the folds and creases of her dress from sitting, “he needs to be fed,” she flashed an apologetic smile to all parties, “I shouldn’t be long.  If you need anything, feel free to yell.”  She excused herself from the table and took Gabriel upstairs.  It was clearly not a public event, and almost mindlessly went through the motions before sitting on the rocking chair with him. 

She hoped everyone downstairs was still having a good time and they didn’t need anything, she thought idly, playing with the wispy black curls atop Gabriel’s head.  Humming softly, Akiva hoped Gabriel didn’t feel the pangs of loss that she felt sometimes, and that he was happy.  He was a quiet baby on most accounts, fussy at times, but babies were like that, weren’t they?  And he didn’t sleep through a night because babies didn’t at this age…

Taking a deep breath, Akiva adjusted her son in her arms and looked up at the picture she had put above his crib – a framed photo of the three of them together: smiling, waving and kissing (which she was sure would embarrass her son someday).  She had dreamed of so many of the same photo, Gabriel growing older and another Eleor to add.  She had always wanted a big family.  But right now, it was just her and Gabriel, and perhaps it would take a miracle for there to be more.