“I think she goes to vintage shops,” I say. Definitely something my mother wrinkles her nose about, no matter how much she loves her sister. Then I sit up straight. “Wait—could Aunty Steph come to dinner too?” I’m imagining me and Aunty Steph walking over to the Wines’ together. Just us, without the rest of my family.

“Ooh, great idea!” Honey says. “I’ll ask Ima, but I’m sure it’s fine. Will your mom be okay with it?”

“I could tell Aunty Steph to ask. She never says no to her.”

“Wait, I have the best idea!” Honey says. “Tell your mom that there’ll be some eligible bachelors for your aunt to meet. I’m sure some random single bochers my dad is learning with will be there, so it’s not even a lie. Didn’t you say your mom is always trying to set her up? Steph’s not getting any younger, you know.”

“She’s only twenty-five,” I protest.

“And that is why she needs a shidduch, pronto,” Honey says.

I nod. Well, my mom does think it’s high time Aunty Steph started dating “men who are marriage material”—and not the “artsy-fartsy hippies” with whom Aunty Steph has a tendency for intense, short-lived relationships. Although I don’t think that any of the people who end up at the Wines’ are Aunty Steph’s type, or what my mother would consider marriage material. But I am thinking about how much fun it would be to have my favorite aunt and my favorite family all together.

“You know I’m righ-ight,” Honey singsongs with a playful grin, her eyes starting to cross and her finger inching toward her nose.

I roll my eyes at her antics. But despite my best intentions, the corners of my mouth start tugging up until we’re both laughing hysterically.

“What’s so funny in there?” Miriam bangs on the door.

“Adolescent stuff—aka none of your beeswax!” Honey hollers back.

On the second night of Succot, Aunty Steph and I plan to walk over to the Wines’ together after she and my mom say the blessing on the candles. My mother lights the wicks while Aunty Steph sings a song without words, just “lai-la-lai,” and closes her eyes and sways. She puts one arm around me and one around my mother, and we move awkwardly like we are in a three-legged race. I join in with the humming and try not to get too impatient. Or think about our small canvas succah on the back porch and my mother’s face as she set three lonely place settings huddled together at one end of the table.

“Your mom’s asked me to learn with you for your bat mitzvah,” Aunty Steph says as we finally extract ourselves and head down my driveway.

“Cool!” I say. There are lots of things a girl can do in honor of her bat mitzvah, and for mine, my parents and I have already agreed that I’ll study a Jewish text and do a mitzvah project for a charity. We’ll have a party, and I’ll make a speech, summarizing whatever I study. I give a little skip and hop on the sidewalk. I’m so glad my mom thought of asking Aunty Steph to learn with me!