All Chapters of Out of My League: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The last couple of months has been busy. All in good ways, of course, but a lot more activity than usual, that’s for sure. Reese made her mind up after her mother made it clear she couldn’t and wouldn’t apologize for her behavior. She resigned, much to the disappointment of many in her family. Thankfully none have held the decision against her. They hold it against Sophia. She’s been doing great working at her dad’s construction company as their in-house lawyer. It may not be a big deal in court cases, but she’s happy, and that is all that matters. The job is more about drawing up contracts and handling any legal hiccups that may arise, so very different from what she was doing. It’s much less stressful for her, and the work environment is much more welcoming. I’m pretty sure I’d get dirty looks if I showed up at the Frost law firm because Reese forgot lunch or her briefcase. While at the Nikolaidis Construction office, I get warm smiles and welcoming greetings as I go to her office.

My mother hasn’t spoken to me or anyone at the party since she was forcefully removed. She only speaks to Uncle Shaw at the office when the business requires her to; even then, it’s strictly professional. I don’t think he minds. Of course, now that there was an engagement party, I have formally told the rest of the family that we are engaged and expecting. Both sets of my grandparents are thrilled and look forward to the wedding and meeting new great-grandchildren. No one has officially lived at the estate since Great Aunt Cordelia died. The property went into a trust and is owned by Grandfather and his two brothers. Grandfather insisted that as we’d discussed an outdoor ceremony, we allow him to host the whole event at the Frost Estate. While I don’t want a big formal event, I have to admit the estate has beautiful landscaping, and if the weather doesn’t hold, we can go inside. So it made the perfect venue. Don and I were still going to stick to our more rustic and subdued affair. W

The house was quiet in that soft, holy way it only got at night. Not silent, never silent, not with twin infants in the picture, but still. Silent enough that I could hear the creak of old floorboards beneath my socks and the faint hum of the furnace trying its best to keep our bones warm through another Massachusetts winter. I stood in the kitchen, leaning against the butcher block counter Reese and I had stained by hand, the menorah sitting in front of me like it had every year since I was old enough to light it myself. The brass was worn, one of the arms slightly crooked from a fall during college that I never bothered to fix. It wasn’t fancy, not like some of the ones you saw in Judaica shops. But it was mine. Had been for decades. And this year, it felt heavier in ways I hadn’t expected. I struck the match and watched it flare, that

I should’ve known it was a bad idea to try to make latkes by myself with a baby on my chest. Nik was already upset before the first potato made contact with the grater, tiny fists clamped into fists of fury over the entire holiday of Hanukkah. “It’s just shredded potatoes, buddy,” I grumbled, bouncing slightly as I grated. “Not a war crime.” He screamed louder, thrashing around in the baby carrier like I’d told his great-great-grandbubbie that we were out of rugelach. “Okay, okay,” I sighed in exasperation, narrowly avoiding losing a fingertip to the grater. “You win. I’ll grate an extra onion.” The kitchen was already a disaster. Potato peels stuck to the counter, flour cover

It was at that moment, during my second sip of coffee, that pandemonium descended. First, there had been pounding on the door. Screams. Bells. High-pitched giggles. A shuffling noise that might have been someone dragging a dead tree across the porch. I opened just in time to spot a flash of pink and purple streaking into the foyer. Saki and Aiko, our four-year-old twin nieces, are whirlwinds of tutus, sparkles, and poor life choices. “UNCLE DON!” they screamed in unison, already halfway to the dining room, screaming over who could find the “spinny top things” first. Fore-followed behind, wheezing and glittering. “WHY are they sticky already? We’ve been in the car for eleven minutes,” he grumbled, blinking