“So you’re making cookies? With…fig jam?” She looked more closely.

“These are poppyseed rugelach,” Miriam gestured, “which are pastries, not cookies. From the secret family recipe that is only available in the Rosenstein’s flagship storefront, and only during Hanukkah. They are made of magic, and I was craving them.”

“Processing the breakup, huh? Also I know what rugelach are, please. I’m not new.” She reached over the counter to where Miriam had made a pot of coffee and filled a cup for herself. Miriam dolloped the exact right amount of cream in it for her, and there were those feelings, again.

“Do you have secret breakup rituals?” Miriam asked, waving Noelle over to her side of the counter. “Here, spoon filling in this batch then I’ll show you how to roll them.” She scooted over bowls and carefully arranged dough, creating a second station so they could work side by side.

“I listen to Soul Asylum’s ‘Runaway Train’ on repeat until I’m so sick of myself that I have to get my shit together,” Noelle said as she carefully portioned out poppyseed spread.

“Does it work?” Miriam laughed, leaning over to roll the pastry carefully. She watched Noelle copy her movements and nodded her approval. When their arms brushed, Noelle’s heart raced.

“It’s at least less self-destructive than the way I used to get over breakups, which was getting blackout drunk,” Noelle pointed out. She tucked one of Miriam’s errant curls behind an ear. Miriam licked her lip and ducked her head. Noelle felt a surge of victory that she was getting to Miriam just as much as Miriam was to her.

“I’m glad you’ve moved on to moody nineties rock,” Miriam said softly. “Solid choice.” She held a clean spoon with fig filling up to Noelle’s mouth to taste. Noelle tried to remember what they were talking about. Oh, right, breakups—because Miriam was in the middle of a big one and didn’t need Noelle to move on her, immediately after saying she wouldn’t.

She was watching Miriam roll pastry, mesmerized by the movement of her hands, when Miriam surprised her by saying, “When I was fighting with my mom, you said you understood having a complicated relationship with your parents, but I didn’t realize…” She shook her head. “Anyway, I thought you were just trying to tell me what to do. I didn’t realize you’d lost your parents, without getting to reconcile. I’m sorry. And thank you, for not telling me I should reconcile with my dad, because I might regret it otherwise. I get that a lot.”

“Are we really going to talk about our parents right now?” Noelle grimaced.

Miriam shrugged. “I’m trying to get to know the woman behind the suspenders. You know all about my demons.”