Their (Brooklyn) Holiday – Chapter Four, Part One

The next morning, Asher walked along the promenade with Maggie, who was staring in awe at the sun glinting off the buildings of Manhattan on the other side of the East River. After yesterday’s snow storm, they had all agreed that some fresh air and sunshine would be a good plan before tucking into the spinach matzo lasagna David was bringing, as well as the roast chicken, salad, and second batch of latkes his mom was making.

They still had the whole day to enjoy the city before dinner prep needed to start, so they were walking toward Brooklyn Bridge Park in hopes of taking one of the ferries to Pier 11. He wanted to make sure Maggie got the chance to see the three bridges, one after the other, on a sunny day. The fresh snowfall added another layer of magic to the city he loved.

A few yards ahead of them, Ruth bounced along the paved path between his parents, no doubt either talking about how excited she was that they’d surprised her with tickets to Wicked for the 30th, or about her second ski racing season.

“You know, I can’t get enough of seeing Ruth all joyful and smothered in grandparent love, but getting to hold hands and show you Brooklyn is really what’s making this a gold-star day,” he said.

“I love this view. It’s odd—I’ve never witnessed the skyline in person before, but it’s super familiar from seeing it a zillion times on TV.” Maggie squeezed her mittened hand around his gloved one and looked up at him. Her cheeks were pink from the wind. Later, he might have to insist on a nap for an hour, and make her face flush for an entirely different reason. 

She bit her lip, concern flaring in her eyes. “Are you regretting moving away?”

“No. Absolutely not. Brooklyn will always be one of my homes, but I want to raise Ruth in Sutter Creek. And good luck convincing her to move away from the mountains now that she’s fallen in love with racing down them.”

“That’s true.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket, a call instead of a text. He ignored it.

“It’s sweet of your brother to bring a vegetarian entree tonight.”

“It’s his speciality. You can barely tell it’s made with matzo bread instead of noodles.”

Another series of buzzes erupted in his pocket. He pulled it out. 

Stella.

Why would she be calling him instead of Maggie? Was something wrong back at home?

Keep reading chapter four!