Carys waved it away and settled back on the bed with a plate of bread, cheese, and grapes. All Greta wanted was to sit with her and eat and talk.

“Guys, I gotta go, okay? Do whatever you want. I’m out this year.”

“Wait, out out?” Adelaide asked. “But you’ll be home for Chanukah?”

“No. I told you, I’m staying for a month.”

Carys put a hand on Greta’s back and rubbed softly.

“But…Chanukah.”

Her twin’s voice sounded like she was ten years old again and Greta didn’t want to have matching costumes for the first time at Halloween.

Greta pressed into Carys’ hand and rolled her eyes.

“Dude, I told you this at the beginning,” she reminded Adelaide.

“But I didn’t think you meant Chanukah too!”

She sounded genuinely distraught. They’d never spent a holiday apart. Greta felt a twinge of longing underneath the habitual guilt.

“Sorry, Addie. I gotta go, though. I love you.”

She ended the call before Adelaide could reply.

“Sorry,” she said to Carys. “This looks great.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Every year for Chanukah, we all get my parents a group present. It’s been that way since we were little. And every year, it’s this whole thing because Sadie tries to control it and doesn’t want the rest of our ideas but then gets angry if we don’t do the work she wants us to do. So inevitably with, like, a week to go until Chanukah, we get it done and it’s never exactly the way she wanted, but my parents always act like it’s the greatest gift they’ve ever received.”

Carys cocked her head. “Is that bad?”

“No, no. I’m just saying the stakes are low.”

Carys nodded and handed her a piece of bread and cheese drizzled with honey.

Greta bit into it, and the tastes exploded in her mouth. Earthy grain of bread, the nuttiness of an unfamiliar cheese, and mellow sweetness of honey.

“Holy shit, this is heavenly.”

“I’m glad you like it. Veronica keeps bees over at this community garden a few blocks away, and she makes the honey.”

“I’ve always wanted to see the honey from real bees.”

“I’m sure Veronica’d be happy to take you with her.”

“I would love that.”

“So, your sisters?”

“Oh, yeah, they just wanted me to be the tiebreaker vote. Really, it’s silly, because we’re in our twenties now, and I’m sure my parents don’t need another photo album from us any more than they ever really liked the coupon books we made them with, like, one free kiss from each of us, even though they pretended those were the greatest thing in the world too.”

Carys handed her another piece of bread, cheese, and honey.