Kink meme fic - Kiddie fluff
Title: No Title for now--The eight days of Chanukah, perhaps?
Rating: PG
Characters: Little!Miles, Phoenix and Larry. Gregory Edgeworth.
Words: About 4, 800 words of pure, mindless, pointless fluff.
Prompt: Miles spending Chanukah with Gregory.
WARNING: THIS IS ALMOST FIVE THOUSAND WORDS OF MEANINGLESS FLUFF OF THE KIND THAT I HAVE NEVER DONE BEFORE.
Miles had been peering out the window, looking at the rows upon rows of Christmas lights that lit up the houses in his neighborhood before looking down at his own pitifully empty lawn. At that, he jumped to his feet and ran in socked feet all the way down the hardwood halls until he skidded to the doorway of his father’s study. Bringing himself up in what he would have liked to think was a dignified manner, he then carefully walked in. “Father?”
His father sat hunched over papers, sometimes pausing to adjust his glasses or wrinkle his nose and sniff. Father worked a lot, Miles knew, but this was one question he needed answered. Again, he rapped on the doorframe. “Father?”
His father swung his arms in the air and stretched, letting out a funny grunt as his pencil fell from his hands and launched through the air.
“Father!”
He turned his head, glasses falling from their already precarious perch on the bottom of his nose. Gregory took off his glasses, and rubbed at his left eye before beckoning Miles into the study. “Miles, you should have just came right in.” He span around in the spinny-chair that Miles wished dearly to sit in someday. “Were you waiting for long?”
“No,” Miles lied, fingers crossed behind his back. Luckily, he thought, rather pleased, Father didn’t seem to notice.
“So, what did you have on your mind, Miles?” Gregory asked.
“Well,” Miles said hurriedly, brushing his bangs away from his face, “yesterday Phoenix was telling me about how Christmas was coming up and about how he put up his Christmas tree and how Santa is going to his house and I was wondering why we don’t celebrate Christmas too.”
Gregory blinked, assessing the incredibly long sentence that had just burst from Miles’ mouth. After managing to figure out exactly what it meant, he put a hand on Miles’ shoulder, face softening. “Well, son, that’s because we’re not Christians.”
Gregory had scarcely finished his sentence before the ever inquisitive Miles asked, “What’s that?”
“Good question.” Gregory chuckled, seeming incredibly amused with himself - which Miles failed to understand but attempted to laugh anyways - before finally saying, “Christians are people who go to Church every Sunday and believe in somebody called Jesus Christ who they think is the son of God.”
“Oh.” Miles didn’t see what believing in some guy with a weird name had to do with Christmas trees and jolly old men, but decided to leave it at that for now. “Do we do anything?”
Gregory’s eyes flit towards the calendar before bursting into a brilliant grin. “You bet.” He leapt to his feet, patting Miles on the shoulder - an action that never failed to make Miles feel like the luckiest kid in the world - and hurried to a cupboard. Interested, Miles trailed behind, only to see his father produce a candelabra.
It was rather underwhelming, actually. That thing came out every year around this time, not that Miles was particularly certain of what it was for. “This, Miles-“ Gregory held up the candelabra “-is called a menorah.” He dug in the shelves once more.
To Miles’ distaste, he dug out the hat. The yammakkah. All Miles knew was that he hated the hat. Despite this, Gregory popped the hat on Miles’ head and did the same to his own. “We light a candle for eight days. It’s like the Christmas tree of Chanukah! The candles are the ornaments.”
Miles nodded, eyes solemn, not quite understanding as Gregory lit one candle.
“Today is the first day,” he said, presenting Miles with a loonie, gold and brilliant in the light of the candle. “This is what we call gelt. Save it for something nice.”
Miles grinned back. (And once Gregory left, he sheepishly tore the hat off his head.)
====
The next day, at school, Miles approached Phoenix at recess, tapping him in a matter-of-fact manner on his shoulder. Phoenix turned. "'Ho, Miles," he said cheerfully.
Miles waved, but didn't waste any time saying his usual 'hello'. "Father told me that Christians celebrate Christmas."
Phoenix considered this for a moment. "I think I'm a Christian, then. 'Cause I celebrate Christmas."
This sounded perfectly reasonable to Miles, so he continued. "So you believe in Jesus Christ?"
"Who's he?"
Miles was beginning to doubt the fact that Phoenix was Christian before remembering how horrible Phoenix was at his times tables. He concluded that Phoenix was just as bad at being a Christian as he was at math. "Never mind. But I found out that there's another holiday that I celebrate."
Phoenix hopped a little in the snow, attempting to catch the breath that misted out in front of him. "Cool! What holiday?"
Miles grinned smugly before answering. "Chanukah."
"What's that?"
Miles thought back to the information Father had told him the previous night after Miles was done having a staring contest with the stupid hat. "It's a holiday you celebrate when you're Jewish," he informed Phoenix loftily. "You light candles because of the story where some people got to light lots of candles with only enough oil for one!"
"That's stupid," Phoenix replied, blanching. "Candles aren't made out of oil."
"Theirs were."
"Okay." Phoenix stepped onto the edge of the playground, balancing precariously on the small, slippery ledge. "So do you sing Chanukah carols?"
Miles frowned and pursed his lips. "What?"
"Chanukah carols," Phoenix repeated himself. "You know, like Christmas carols, except for it'll be sung for Chanukah." Phoenix then burst loudly into song which began with the words, 'Jingle Bells' which managed to transform into 'Falalalala's' in the middle, eventually ending with the words 'ho ho ho!'.
Despie how stupid Miles thought it was, he approached his father the following nightfall anyways, just as his father was digging around for the stupid hat again. (Which Miles hid.)
"Father?"
"Yes--" Gregory sneezed; the dust was overwhelming and his allergies were acting up. "Yes?"
"Well..." Miles ground his heel into the rug. "Phoenix was telling me about Christmas carols at school today."
Gregory nodded, careful not to hit his head on the top of the shelf. "Mhm...?"
"I was wondering if there was Chanukah carols."
Gregory chuckled, finally grabbing the stupid - and now crumpled - hat and placing it on Miles' head. "Well, not carols, but you bet we have songs."
Miles tilted his head as he watched his father move towards the menorah once more. "Like what?" He asked curiously. "Like...O menorah, O menorah, how brightly shine your..." He failed there, thinking for a moment before finishing weakly: "candles."
That made Gregory laugh, which Miles wasn't too happy about. He didn't mean it as a joke, and it was quite hurtful to have Father laugh at him like that. But Miles was mature, like a grown up, not like that crybaby Phoenix, so he refrained from pouting and decided instead to cross his arms and tap his foot like he had seen Father do. Which wasn't pouting in the slightest. "Well then what are the Chanukah songs?"
Gregory finished chuckling after far too long for Miles' liking before finally kneeling to face Miles - and to fix his hat. "Well, how about we start with an easy one? Let's try out...Ner Li, Ner Li."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I have a candle."
The two of them happily disregarded the fact that neither could sing and sang happily through the lighting of another candle, with Miles replacing all of the hard words with simple humming.
====
Miles showed the samurai action figure he had gotten for the second day of Chanukah to Larry and Phoenix the next day. Larry was hanging upside down on the monkey bars because he didn't care about getting his clothes dirty, and Phoenix, who cared a little more sat gingerly on the snow covered bench beside them. Miles, who cared the most, stood.
"Well, that's cool and all," Larry said, arms flailing, "but do you get any Chanukah foods?"
"Food?" Miles asked.
Larry rubbed at his ever-stuffy nose, losing his balance for a moment before righting himself on top of the bars. "Yeah, food! Best part of Christmas besides the presents. Turkey, and cranberry sauce and mashed potatoes and cake and lots of good food. Chanukah doesn't have that?"
Miles shook his head, feeling a little disheartened. "I don't think so."
"That sucks," Larry replied. "I don't think it's as good as Christmas, then." He then fell off the monkey bars.
Miles couldn't bring himself to feel bad when Larry whined at him for laughing. He did, however, feel a little sorry for Phoenix, who Larry had fallen on top of.
When he got home that afternoon - he had gone over to Phoenix's house and Phoenix's Mom had dropped him off - his father was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't in the study. He wasn't in his room. It was when Miles was inspecting the living room when Miles began to get a little worried. "Father?"
He was answered by a crackling, spitting sound, and a voice that was most definitely his father's said, "Ouch," along with a word Miles decided not to repeat. He ran over to the kitchen only to see Gregory perched over the stove.
"Oh," he said cheerfully, not turning to look at his son, "Miles you're back! You should have shouted. Stay back, son, the oil's spitting."
Miles followed the instructions as well as a nine year old boy could when told to stand back, peering curiously at the blobs in the pan. "What are you making?"
"Chanukah food," Gregory replied, a funny little smirk upon his face as he flipped the whatever-it-was over. "Well, Jewish food in general. We're having latkes and matzo ball soup." He pointed his spatula in the pot's direction. "Some knishes from the kosher are in the toaster oven."
He turned around for a moment. "And if you're still hungry after our feast, then we can have hamentashen or blintzes for dessert."
Miles had room for dessert at the end, and a third candle was lit.
====
The next day at lunchtime, Larry was involved in dipping the potato chips he wheedled off Katie in the leftover hummus Miles brought in a container, while Phoenix was attempting subtlety at breaking off a piece of a matzo ball stuffed in Miles' thermos.
"Chanukah seems pretty cool," Phoenix noted happily, attempting to take Miles' eagle eye off of the piece of hamentashen stuffed in his lunchbox. (Gregory had packed quite a bit of food quite intelligently, seeing as Larry never failed to snatch some.)
Miles nodded happily, scooting the lunchbox away from Phoenix. "It is."
Phoenix kneeled on his chair, letting it lean on two legs--it was the closest to danger Phoenix ever seemed to get. "Do you play any Chanukah games?"
Miles shook his head. "Do you play Christmas games?"
Phoenix considered this. "I think. I mean, we play lots of--"
"--Larry, get your hands off of that, that's my lunch you're grabbing--"
"--games on Christmas."
After he finished scolding Larry, Miles turned back to Phoenix, shaking his head. "I don't think so."
"Oh." Phoenix popped a grape from his own lunchbag into his mouth. "That's too bad. Games are fun."
Miles nodded. "Father works an awful lot, and he's been spending a lot of time with me. I don't think he has time to play games anyways."
"Oh." Phoenix dribbled mayonnaise out of his chicken sandwich. "I can play some with you, if you like."
"That's okay." Miles broke off half of the hammentashen and slid it in front of Phoenix, feeling quiet generous for giving Phoenix some of the filling.
("Miles," Larry whined, "why didn't you give me any?"
"Because," Miles replied loftily, "you already ate half of my lunch."
Larry found it difficult to debate this point with half a matzo ball in his hand.)
That evening, after Miles finished his homework, he left his bedroom in search of his father, not to mention perhaps some leftover food. What he didn't expect to see, however, was his father not working, but crouched in front of the coffee table, a wooden top in front of him and a book open in front of him. Underneath his breath, he was muttering, "Nun...Gimel...Hay...Shin!" Then, hearing the patter of footsteps behind him, he turned around.
"You're just in time, Miles. Have you finished your homework?"
Miles nodded.
"Sit down right here. I'm going to teach you how to play dreidel!"
Miles stared at the top wide eyed as Gregory patiently explained the rules to him and presented him with a hoard of chocolate coins wrapped in shiny gold foil.
Gregory won, as was expected, but when Miles went upstairs after lighting the fourth candle on the menorah, he found a small bag of the chocolate coins sitting on his pillow.
====
After school, Larry and Phoenix were sitting cross legged underneath the undercover area outside of their school as Miles stood in front of them, calmly explaining the rules of the game.
"...and in the end, even if one of us wins everything, the winner has to donate at least one chocolate coin to the others."
"What? But why?" Larry whined, stretching languidly out, apparently quite confident that he'd win. "If you win, you win!"
Miles shook his head and wrinkled his nose at Larry. "Because they're my chocolate coins and it's my dreidel." His father had given him the dreidel as his present last night. "So either you play like that or not at all."
"Besides," Phoenix piped up, looking as if he thoroughly believed that he would lose, "I like chocolate."
Miles nodded his head and sat neatly beside the other two. It took a total of two minutes until Larry threw the dreidel across the space after getting his fifth nun in a row.
"Larry, don't do that," Phoenix grumbled. "At least you aren't getting shin-pay's."
Miles, on the other hand was quite preoccupied with throwing a fit at Larry for daring to damage his precious dreidel. The catastrophe that was bound to happen was solved by Phoenix mildly commenting that the dreidel looked okay. In the end, to everyone's surprise, Phoenix managed to win. he did, however, graciously give Larry a chocolate coin.
It was then when Larry looked up at the sky. "Aw man," he said, scratching the back of his head - Miles hoped he didn't have lice - and stomped on the ground. "It's getting late. My Mom's gonna get mad"
Phoenix looked up at the sky as well. "Will you be okay?" He wrapped his arms around himself, eyes darting back and forth. "It's gotten a little dark."
Larry grinned. "You're a worry wart, Nick. Don't worry. I'll follow the star. It's Christmas time, right?" With that, he took off, leaving Phoenix and Miles to trudge home together in the snow.
Miles opened the massive black umbrella his father gave to him from his study and held it over the two of them. After a great deal of tugging back and forth, ending with the umbrella flying halfway across the park, the two of them finally managed to hold the umbrella together.
"What did Larry mean," Miles asked, "when he said that about the star?"
Phoenix picked a snowflake from his eyelashes. "It's another Christmas thing," he explained. "The story was was that these guys got lost and they followed a star all the way home."
"What does that have to do with Christmas?"
Phoenix shrugged. "I dunno. Nice story, though."
Soon, the two boys made it to Miles' house, and Phoenix was about to leave for his own house once more when Gregory ushered the boy in. "It's getting dark out, boys," he said, wiping his glasses. "Come in for some hot chocolate. Phoenix, I'll call your mother to make sure she doesn't worry."
Phoenix was all too happy to oblige it seemed, rushing to the kitchen before Miles scolded him for not washing his hands. Warming their hands on the hot chocolate Gregory made, they perched themselves on the tall stools in the island, where Phoenix was happily stuffing his face with cookies.
Gregory chuckled. "You'd better not fill up on cookies, Phoenix. Your Mom is stuck in traffic, so you'll be staying here for supper."
"Sthry Mther Etherr."
"Swallow," Miles commanded.
"Sorry." Phoenix grinned sheepishly and took a gulp of hot chocolate before saying hopefully, "Will you be making the food you made for Miles the other day, Mr. Edgeworth?"
Gregory was busying himself with cleaning the dishes, but Miles could see the smile on his face even with his back turned. "So you were the one who helped devour Miles' lunch yesterday."
"Larry helped."
Miles interrupted what was sure to be a long defense from Phoenix - really, his friend was so embarrassing sometimes - and instead asked, "Do you know the story about the star during the holidays?"
"You mean the star of David?" He asked.
Phoenix shook his head. "The Christmas one," he explained, but Miles clapped a hand over Phoenix's mouth.
"Shush. What's the star of David?"
Gregory chuckled again. Miles could never quite figure out why the man found Phoenix so hilarious, but allowed his father to go on rather than questioning that as well. "It's a Jewish star," he explained, grabbing a small packet of post-it notes and sketching a star on it. Miles inspected it carefully and grinned; so Chanukah did have a star. He listened carefully as his father explained the significance of the star, however Phoenix seemed more preoccupied sketching on the post-it note.
"Here, why don't I get you boys some paper and crayons and you can draw all you like--" he reached down a hand to take away the post-it notes, "--and not on my pad of post-it notes."
The two boys drew the entire time until supper was served.
Before nightfall, the moment when the fifth candle was lit, the house was decorated with stars.
====
The next day was a Saturday, and like every other Saturday, the three friends met up at noon, at the park. Larry ran his hand through the snow, absent mindedly making a snowball and tossing it at Phoenix. ("Ow," said Phoenix.) Excitedly, Larry made an announcement: "My grandparents came yesterday."
"Cool!" Said Phoenix, who thought everything was cool.
Larry shrugged. "Not really. Grandpa lectured me on stuff, but I wasn't listening. The really cool part was what they brought with them?"
"A cat?" Suggested Phoenix hopefully who enjoyed playing with the next door neighbor's cat to the cat's chagrin. Larry shook his head.
"A dog?" Miles, who liked dogs far more than cats, suggested.
"Wrong and wrong!" Larry shouted gleefully. "They brought presents!"
"You should be happy about your grandparents coming," Phoenix scolded. "Not the presents."
Larry glowered at Phoenix, tossing another snowball in his direction. "Is that you or your Mama talking?"
Phoenix scowled and crossed his arms across his chest, attempting to glare and instead going a little cross eyed. "Is there something wrong about my Mom saying it?"
Miles, the only one of the three who had mastered the glare summoned it up and used it on the both of them. "Why did they get you presents, Larry?" He asked. "It's not your birthday."
Happy to get back onto the topic of presents, Larry grinned. "For Christmas!" Then, doing a happy spin, he asked Miles, "Do you get any presents for Chanukah?"
Miles nodded. "Yes. Didn't you see my action figure, and my dreidel?"
Larry nodded - and threw another snowball at Phoenix who was becoming quite irate by this time - and said, "But I mean, any big presents?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, last year, my parents bought me a gameboy."
Miles tilted his head. "No, I don't think so," he replied.
Phoenix was still sulking.
"Besides food," Larry informed Miles, "presents are the best part of Christmas."
"Isn't it supposed to be for that Jesus man?" Miles questioned.
"Who?"
Miles shook his head--he had to ask his father more about this Jesus guy later. After another half an hour, Phoenix got tired of getting snowballs thrown at him and decided to go home and sulk for a little while, closely followed by Larry, who was then followed by Miles who did not wish to be left alone. And so, the group disbanded in foul spirits. (Although their spirits were most likely to be resolved as soon as they forgot about their disagreement--for Larry, that would be in about ten minutes.)
That evening, when Miles trudged down the stairs, he did not see his father, who he had come to expect to be waiting for him beside the menorah and the stupid hat. He entered the doorway of the study--perhaps Father had simply gotten caught up in work again.
However, once he entered, Gregory all but flung himself on the desk. "Don't come in quite yet, Miles! Go wait by the menorah."
Glumly, Miles followed his father's instructions. After what felt like forever, his father entered the room carrying a--a parcel? He stared curiously at it as Gregory pushed it into his hands.
"Happy sixth day of Chanukah, Miles."
He opened it and saw a thin, hardcover book of law - advertising 'Easy-To-Understand' and on top of that...was it? No, it wasn't real, but it was made of metal and...and...
"A defense attorney's badge?" He gasped.
Gregory winked. "To hold you off for a few years."
Unable to dim his enthusiasm, Miles flung his arms around Gregory. "Thank you so much, Father!"
In his excitement, he nearly forgot to help Gregory light the sixth candle on the menorah.
====
On Sundays, the three boys generally meet up, with Larry usually being grounded, Phoenix usually off with his Mom who valued 'family time' and Miles was usually tired of the lot by the end of the week.
This Sunday, however, was different. Larry had announced that he was going to be visiting family during the Christmas holidays, so Phoenix was adamant that they spend their Sunday together to see Larry off. A week was, after all, such a very long time.
They met at Larry's house on the condition that they stay in Larry's room. Upon entering, Miles was immediately bowled over with the fact that it was clean for once. "Your room is clean," he commented.
"That's 'cause if it wasn't clean, Santa wouldn't come."
Phoenix bounced on the bed and burrowed through Larry's drawers to find the second controller for the N64. "If you want Santa to come, you hafta be good all year, not just in December."
Larry threw his pillow at Phoenix.
"Ow."
Miles ignored the two boys, who he felt were acting quite immature and deigned to instead sit there polishing his new badge.
"Hey Miles," Phoenix said, after he finished pouting, "does Santa come to your house?"
Miles shook his head. "I told you that I don't celebrate Christmas."
Larry inspected the badge from over his shoulder and said, "Yeah, but Santa gives gifts to all the good boys and girls. Maybe you were just bad."
"No!" Exclaimed Miles. "Was not! I was nice to you two, wasn't I? And besides, I'm gonna grow up to be great, and nice, and believe in justice and truth and stuff."
Larry shrugged. "Whatever you say."
Miles screwed up his face. "Santa doesn't exist anyways."
Larry stared at Miles as if he had just been slapped across the face. "Does so!"
Phoenix, ever the pacifist, intruded between the two of them and suggested, "Maybe he only comes to the good kids' houses who celebrate Christmas, and Miles has a--a Chanukah elf or something."
"I don't think we have any elves during Chanukah..."
The three boys lapsed into silence for a grand total of two minutes before Larry picked up his controller, the incident already forgotten.
That night, Miles, who certainly didn't forget, spoke to his father at the dinner table. He chewed furiously and gulped the piece of chicken down. "Father, today my friends were talking about Santa Claus."
Gregory chewed thoughtfully and gestured for Miles to go on with his fork.
"And Phoenix said that there was a Chanukah elf. Is there?"
His father's mouth twisted into a smile before he gave a gulp, swallowing his mouthful of food. "No," he said, grabbing a napkin and wiping at the sides of his mouth, "we have nothing like that."
Miles nodded, feeling a little downcast--even if he said that he didn't believe in Santa Claus, the thought of someone coming in and giving you presents was a nice one.
"But we have a story too. No one who gives us presents, but there is a story."
Miles eyes shone. "What?"
"It was about a group of people called the Maccabees..."
For some reason, that evening, Miles didn't feel quite so stupid wearing the stupid hat. Not quite so stupid.
But he still hated it.
====
The schoolyard felt empty without the familiar - and annoying - presence of Larry after school, so Miles and Phoenix decided to sit down and talk about what Phoenix described as ‘stuff’ before beginning the long trek home.
"You know," Phoenix said, pausing in his constant quest to catch a snowflake on his tongue, "my family's coming soon."
Miles eyed a patch of yellow snow with distaste. "What family?"
"Everyone," Phoenix grinned. "My aunts and uncles and my cousins and--"
"Is it fun?" Miles interrupted, looking thoughtful.
Phoenix nodded. "Yeah," he said. "They always come every year for Christmas, and it's lots of fun. Except for when my Grandma goes a little weird."
"Weird?"
Phoenix stood at twirled. "You know. Crazy. She runs around the house shouting about channeling people and how we're actually mediums and how we're disgracing our roots and stuff. She also thinks I'm a porcupine, so I don't really believe her."
"You sound like you hear this a lot."
"I do." Phoenix made a face. "She ran around the house without wearing anything once. Mom covered my eye, but it was still gross. She started talking about being possessed."
Miles considered this and found himself very thankful that he did not have a Crazy Grandma Wright. "But is it fun besides that?"
Phoenix paused, kicking snow around. "Yeah. It's really fun. They're family, right? Mom tells me that's one thing you hafta have. Anyways, do you get your family over a lot?"
The crunch of snow was loud underneath Miles' boots as he suddenly stood up. "Come on," he said. "Let's go home now."
Phoenix nodded, and the two boys trudged all the way home.
That evening, it took all of Miles' courage to address his father, but in the end, he finally managed to speak. "Father?"
Gregory looked at him from his perch of standing there, attempting to find the stupid hat. "What is it Miles?"
Miles stood there, biting his lip before speaking up. "I was wondering if...if we could ever have family over. For holidays. I mean, Phoenix brought it up, and, and, and...I just thought."
At Gregory's expression--sad and faraway--Miles felt as if he shouldn't have said anything. Whenever Miles mentioned Mom, who he never really knew, this was how Father looked. After what felt like an eternity, Gregory spoke.
“Sorry kiddo,” he said, placing a hand on Miles’ head and using the name all too fatherly that he only did when very upset, “but it’s just you and me.”
"No aunts or crazy grandmothers?" Miles felt obligated to ask.
Gregory shook his head, looking so far away from him that it nearly broke Miles’ heart. “But,” he said desperately, tugging at Gregory’s shirt sleeve in a fashion quite unlike himself, “we have each other, don’t we?”
Gregory leaned down, taking Miles’ hat off his head to brush the flyaway strands down affectionately. “We do.”
At seeing the smile, Miles determinedly went on. “And…and that’s all we need, isn’t it?”
Gregory nodded, eyes sadder than ever and smile happier.
“So…it’s kind of like a family party, isn’t it?”
Gregory finally grinned at that. “It is. And there’s one more candle waiting for us.”
Miles hopped away from Gregory and towards the table he knew the menorah would be on, but instead of Gregory lighting up a match, he held out what looked like a flame dancing on the edge of a plastic handle. “What’s that?”
“We’re family, aren’t we?” Gregory held it out to Miles. “Let’s light the last one together.”
Small hands gripping large ones, the eighth candle was finally lit.
The next day, Larry was back - apparently his great grandmother caught some sort of foot fungi - and immediately set to questioning Miles about his last day of Chanukah. “So was the food awesome? How about the presents? That’s the best part, isn’t it?”
To each on, Miles smugly shook his head.
“Did all of your family come?” Phoenix wanted to know.
At that, Miles smiled-a real smile, which was something rare to see on the usually-solemn face. “Yes,” he answered after a moment, smile growing larger by the second. “And that’s the best part.”
In other news, off to San Francisco for a week! :D
Rating: PG
Characters: Little!Miles, Phoenix and Larry. Gregory Edgeworth.
Words: About 4, 800 words of pure, mindless, pointless fluff.
Prompt: Miles spending Chanukah with Gregory.
WARNING: THIS IS ALMOST FIVE THOUSAND WORDS OF MEANINGLESS FLUFF OF THE KIND THAT I HAVE NEVER DONE BEFORE.
Miles had been peering out the window, looking at the rows upon rows of Christmas lights that lit up the houses in his neighborhood before looking down at his own pitifully empty lawn. At that, he jumped to his feet and ran in socked feet all the way down the hardwood halls until he skidded to the doorway of his father’s study. Bringing himself up in what he would have liked to think was a dignified manner, he then carefully walked in. “Father?”
His father sat hunched over papers, sometimes pausing to adjust his glasses or wrinkle his nose and sniff. Father worked a lot, Miles knew, but this was one question he needed answered. Again, he rapped on the doorframe. “Father?”
His father swung his arms in the air and stretched, letting out a funny grunt as his pencil fell from his hands and launched through the air.
“Father!”
He turned his head, glasses falling from their already precarious perch on the bottom of his nose. Gregory took off his glasses, and rubbed at his left eye before beckoning Miles into the study. “Miles, you should have just came right in.” He span around in the spinny-chair that Miles wished dearly to sit in someday. “Were you waiting for long?”
“No,” Miles lied, fingers crossed behind his back. Luckily, he thought, rather pleased, Father didn’t seem to notice.
“So, what did you have on your mind, Miles?” Gregory asked.
“Well,” Miles said hurriedly, brushing his bangs away from his face, “yesterday Phoenix was telling me about how Christmas was coming up and about how he put up his Christmas tree and how Santa is going to his house and I was wondering why we don’t celebrate Christmas too.”
Gregory blinked, assessing the incredibly long sentence that had just burst from Miles’ mouth. After managing to figure out exactly what it meant, he put a hand on Miles’ shoulder, face softening. “Well, son, that’s because we’re not Christians.”
Gregory had scarcely finished his sentence before the ever inquisitive Miles asked, “What’s that?”
“Good question.” Gregory chuckled, seeming incredibly amused with himself - which Miles failed to understand but attempted to laugh anyways - before finally saying, “Christians are people who go to Church every Sunday and believe in somebody called Jesus Christ who they think is the son of God.”
“Oh.” Miles didn’t see what believing in some guy with a weird name had to do with Christmas trees and jolly old men, but decided to leave it at that for now. “Do we do anything?”
Gregory’s eyes flit towards the calendar before bursting into a brilliant grin. “You bet.” He leapt to his feet, patting Miles on the shoulder - an action that never failed to make Miles feel like the luckiest kid in the world - and hurried to a cupboard. Interested, Miles trailed behind, only to see his father produce a candelabra.
It was rather underwhelming, actually. That thing came out every year around this time, not that Miles was particularly certain of what it was for. “This, Miles-“ Gregory held up the candelabra “-is called a menorah.” He dug in the shelves once more.
To Miles’ distaste, he dug out the hat. The yammakkah. All Miles knew was that he hated the hat. Despite this, Gregory popped the hat on Miles’ head and did the same to his own. “We light a candle for eight days. It’s like the Christmas tree of Chanukah! The candles are the ornaments.”
Miles nodded, eyes solemn, not quite understanding as Gregory lit one candle.
“Today is the first day,” he said, presenting Miles with a loonie, gold and brilliant in the light of the candle. “This is what we call gelt. Save it for something nice.”
Miles grinned back. (And once Gregory left, he sheepishly tore the hat off his head.)
====
The next day, at school, Miles approached Phoenix at recess, tapping him in a matter-of-fact manner on his shoulder. Phoenix turned. "'Ho, Miles," he said cheerfully.
Miles waved, but didn't waste any time saying his usual 'hello'. "Father told me that Christians celebrate Christmas."
Phoenix considered this for a moment. "I think I'm a Christian, then. 'Cause I celebrate Christmas."
This sounded perfectly reasonable to Miles, so he continued. "So you believe in Jesus Christ?"
"Who's he?"
Miles was beginning to doubt the fact that Phoenix was Christian before remembering how horrible Phoenix was at his times tables. He concluded that Phoenix was just as bad at being a Christian as he was at math. "Never mind. But I found out that there's another holiday that I celebrate."
Phoenix hopped a little in the snow, attempting to catch the breath that misted out in front of him. "Cool! What holiday?"
Miles grinned smugly before answering. "Chanukah."
"What's that?"
Miles thought back to the information Father had told him the previous night after Miles was done having a staring contest with the stupid hat. "It's a holiday you celebrate when you're Jewish," he informed Phoenix loftily. "You light candles because of the story where some people got to light lots of candles with only enough oil for one!"
"That's stupid," Phoenix replied, blanching. "Candles aren't made out of oil."
"Theirs were."
"Okay." Phoenix stepped onto the edge of the playground, balancing precariously on the small, slippery ledge. "So do you sing Chanukah carols?"
Miles frowned and pursed his lips. "What?"
"Chanukah carols," Phoenix repeated himself. "You know, like Christmas carols, except for it'll be sung for Chanukah." Phoenix then burst loudly into song which began with the words, 'Jingle Bells' which managed to transform into 'Falalalala's' in the middle, eventually ending with the words 'ho ho ho!'.
Despie how stupid Miles thought it was, he approached his father the following nightfall anyways, just as his father was digging around for the stupid hat again. (Which Miles hid.)
"Father?"
"Yes--" Gregory sneezed; the dust was overwhelming and his allergies were acting up. "Yes?"
"Well..." Miles ground his heel into the rug. "Phoenix was telling me about Christmas carols at school today."
Gregory nodded, careful not to hit his head on the top of the shelf. "Mhm...?"
"I was wondering if there was Chanukah carols."
Gregory chuckled, finally grabbing the stupid - and now crumpled - hat and placing it on Miles' head. "Well, not carols, but you bet we have songs."
Miles tilted his head as he watched his father move towards the menorah once more. "Like what?" He asked curiously. "Like...O menorah, O menorah, how brightly shine your..." He failed there, thinking for a moment before finishing weakly: "candles."
That made Gregory laugh, which Miles wasn't too happy about. He didn't mean it as a joke, and it was quite hurtful to have Father laugh at him like that. But Miles was mature, like a grown up, not like that crybaby Phoenix, so he refrained from pouting and decided instead to cross his arms and tap his foot like he had seen Father do. Which wasn't pouting in the slightest. "Well then what are the Chanukah songs?"
Gregory finished chuckling after far too long for Miles' liking before finally kneeling to face Miles - and to fix his hat. "Well, how about we start with an easy one? Let's try out...Ner Li, Ner Li."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I have a candle."
The two of them happily disregarded the fact that neither could sing and sang happily through the lighting of another candle, with Miles replacing all of the hard words with simple humming.
====
Miles showed the samurai action figure he had gotten for the second day of Chanukah to Larry and Phoenix the next day. Larry was hanging upside down on the monkey bars because he didn't care about getting his clothes dirty, and Phoenix, who cared a little more sat gingerly on the snow covered bench beside them. Miles, who cared the most, stood.
"Well, that's cool and all," Larry said, arms flailing, "but do you get any Chanukah foods?"
"Food?" Miles asked.
Larry rubbed at his ever-stuffy nose, losing his balance for a moment before righting himself on top of the bars. "Yeah, food! Best part of Christmas besides the presents. Turkey, and cranberry sauce and mashed potatoes and cake and lots of good food. Chanukah doesn't have that?"
Miles shook his head, feeling a little disheartened. "I don't think so."
"That sucks," Larry replied. "I don't think it's as good as Christmas, then." He then fell off the monkey bars.
Miles couldn't bring himself to feel bad when Larry whined at him for laughing. He did, however, feel a little sorry for Phoenix, who Larry had fallen on top of.
When he got home that afternoon - he had gone over to Phoenix's house and Phoenix's Mom had dropped him off - his father was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't in the study. He wasn't in his room. It was when Miles was inspecting the living room when Miles began to get a little worried. "Father?"
He was answered by a crackling, spitting sound, and a voice that was most definitely his father's said, "Ouch," along with a word Miles decided not to repeat. He ran over to the kitchen only to see Gregory perched over the stove.
"Oh," he said cheerfully, not turning to look at his son, "Miles you're back! You should have shouted. Stay back, son, the oil's spitting."
Miles followed the instructions as well as a nine year old boy could when told to stand back, peering curiously at the blobs in the pan. "What are you making?"
"Chanukah food," Gregory replied, a funny little smirk upon his face as he flipped the whatever-it-was over. "Well, Jewish food in general. We're having latkes and matzo ball soup." He pointed his spatula in the pot's direction. "Some knishes from the kosher are in the toaster oven."
He turned around for a moment. "And if you're still hungry after our feast, then we can have hamentashen or blintzes for dessert."
Miles had room for dessert at the end, and a third candle was lit.
====
The next day at lunchtime, Larry was involved in dipping the potato chips he wheedled off Katie in the leftover hummus Miles brought in a container, while Phoenix was attempting subtlety at breaking off a piece of a matzo ball stuffed in Miles' thermos.
"Chanukah seems pretty cool," Phoenix noted happily, attempting to take Miles' eagle eye off of the piece of hamentashen stuffed in his lunchbox. (Gregory had packed quite a bit of food quite intelligently, seeing as Larry never failed to snatch some.)
Miles nodded happily, scooting the lunchbox away from Phoenix. "It is."
Phoenix kneeled on his chair, letting it lean on two legs--it was the closest to danger Phoenix ever seemed to get. "Do you play any Chanukah games?"
Miles shook his head. "Do you play Christmas games?"
Phoenix considered this. "I think. I mean, we play lots of--"
"--Larry, get your hands off of that, that's my lunch you're grabbing--"
"--games on Christmas."
After he finished scolding Larry, Miles turned back to Phoenix, shaking his head. "I don't think so."
"Oh." Phoenix popped a grape from his own lunchbag into his mouth. "That's too bad. Games are fun."
Miles nodded. "Father works an awful lot, and he's been spending a lot of time with me. I don't think he has time to play games anyways."
"Oh." Phoenix dribbled mayonnaise out of his chicken sandwich. "I can play some with you, if you like."
"That's okay." Miles broke off half of the hammentashen and slid it in front of Phoenix, feeling quiet generous for giving Phoenix some of the filling.
("Miles," Larry whined, "why didn't you give me any?"
"Because," Miles replied loftily, "you already ate half of my lunch."
Larry found it difficult to debate this point with half a matzo ball in his hand.)
That evening, after Miles finished his homework, he left his bedroom in search of his father, not to mention perhaps some leftover food. What he didn't expect to see, however, was his father not working, but crouched in front of the coffee table, a wooden top in front of him and a book open in front of him. Underneath his breath, he was muttering, "Nun...Gimel...Hay...Shin!" Then, hearing the patter of footsteps behind him, he turned around.
"You're just in time, Miles. Have you finished your homework?"
Miles nodded.
"Sit down right here. I'm going to teach you how to play dreidel!"
Miles stared at the top wide eyed as Gregory patiently explained the rules to him and presented him with a hoard of chocolate coins wrapped in shiny gold foil.
Gregory won, as was expected, but when Miles went upstairs after lighting the fourth candle on the menorah, he found a small bag of the chocolate coins sitting on his pillow.
====
After school, Larry and Phoenix were sitting cross legged underneath the undercover area outside of their school as Miles stood in front of them, calmly explaining the rules of the game.
"...and in the end, even if one of us wins everything, the winner has to donate at least one chocolate coin to the others."
"What? But why?" Larry whined, stretching languidly out, apparently quite confident that he'd win. "If you win, you win!"
Miles shook his head and wrinkled his nose at Larry. "Because they're my chocolate coins and it's my dreidel." His father had given him the dreidel as his present last night. "So either you play like that or not at all."
"Besides," Phoenix piped up, looking as if he thoroughly believed that he would lose, "I like chocolate."
Miles nodded his head and sat neatly beside the other two. It took a total of two minutes until Larry threw the dreidel across the space after getting his fifth nun in a row.
"Larry, don't do that," Phoenix grumbled. "At least you aren't getting shin-pay's."
Miles, on the other hand was quite preoccupied with throwing a fit at Larry for daring to damage his precious dreidel. The catastrophe that was bound to happen was solved by Phoenix mildly commenting that the dreidel looked okay. In the end, to everyone's surprise, Phoenix managed to win. he did, however, graciously give Larry a chocolate coin.
It was then when Larry looked up at the sky. "Aw man," he said, scratching the back of his head - Miles hoped he didn't have lice - and stomped on the ground. "It's getting late. My Mom's gonna get mad"
Phoenix looked up at the sky as well. "Will you be okay?" He wrapped his arms around himself, eyes darting back and forth. "It's gotten a little dark."
Larry grinned. "You're a worry wart, Nick. Don't worry. I'll follow the star. It's Christmas time, right?" With that, he took off, leaving Phoenix and Miles to trudge home together in the snow.
Miles opened the massive black umbrella his father gave to him from his study and held it over the two of them. After a great deal of tugging back and forth, ending with the umbrella flying halfway across the park, the two of them finally managed to hold the umbrella together.
"What did Larry mean," Miles asked, "when he said that about the star?"
Phoenix picked a snowflake from his eyelashes. "It's another Christmas thing," he explained. "The story was was that these guys got lost and they followed a star all the way home."
"What does that have to do with Christmas?"
Phoenix shrugged. "I dunno. Nice story, though."
Soon, the two boys made it to Miles' house, and Phoenix was about to leave for his own house once more when Gregory ushered the boy in. "It's getting dark out, boys," he said, wiping his glasses. "Come in for some hot chocolate. Phoenix, I'll call your mother to make sure she doesn't worry."
Phoenix was all too happy to oblige it seemed, rushing to the kitchen before Miles scolded him for not washing his hands. Warming their hands on the hot chocolate Gregory made, they perched themselves on the tall stools in the island, where Phoenix was happily stuffing his face with cookies.
Gregory chuckled. "You'd better not fill up on cookies, Phoenix. Your Mom is stuck in traffic, so you'll be staying here for supper."
"Sthry Mther Etherr."
"Swallow," Miles commanded.
"Sorry." Phoenix grinned sheepishly and took a gulp of hot chocolate before saying hopefully, "Will you be making the food you made for Miles the other day, Mr. Edgeworth?"
Gregory was busying himself with cleaning the dishes, but Miles could see the smile on his face even with his back turned. "So you were the one who helped devour Miles' lunch yesterday."
"Larry helped."
Miles interrupted what was sure to be a long defense from Phoenix - really, his friend was so embarrassing sometimes - and instead asked, "Do you know the story about the star during the holidays?"
"You mean the star of David?" He asked.
Phoenix shook his head. "The Christmas one," he explained, but Miles clapped a hand over Phoenix's mouth.
"Shush. What's the star of David?"
Gregory chuckled again. Miles could never quite figure out why the man found Phoenix so hilarious, but allowed his father to go on rather than questioning that as well. "It's a Jewish star," he explained, grabbing a small packet of post-it notes and sketching a star on it. Miles inspected it carefully and grinned; so Chanukah did have a star. He listened carefully as his father explained the significance of the star, however Phoenix seemed more preoccupied sketching on the post-it note.
"Here, why don't I get you boys some paper and crayons and you can draw all you like--" he reached down a hand to take away the post-it notes, "--and not on my pad of post-it notes."
The two boys drew the entire time until supper was served.
Before nightfall, the moment when the fifth candle was lit, the house was decorated with stars.
====
The next day was a Saturday, and like every other Saturday, the three friends met up at noon, at the park. Larry ran his hand through the snow, absent mindedly making a snowball and tossing it at Phoenix. ("Ow," said Phoenix.) Excitedly, Larry made an announcement: "My grandparents came yesterday."
"Cool!" Said Phoenix, who thought everything was cool.
Larry shrugged. "Not really. Grandpa lectured me on stuff, but I wasn't listening. The really cool part was what they brought with them?"
"A cat?" Suggested Phoenix hopefully who enjoyed playing with the next door neighbor's cat to the cat's chagrin. Larry shook his head.
"A dog?" Miles, who liked dogs far more than cats, suggested.
"Wrong and wrong!" Larry shouted gleefully. "They brought presents!"
"You should be happy about your grandparents coming," Phoenix scolded. "Not the presents."
Larry glowered at Phoenix, tossing another snowball in his direction. "Is that you or your Mama talking?"
Phoenix scowled and crossed his arms across his chest, attempting to glare and instead going a little cross eyed. "Is there something wrong about my Mom saying it?"
Miles, the only one of the three who had mastered the glare summoned it up and used it on the both of them. "Why did they get you presents, Larry?" He asked. "It's not your birthday."
Happy to get back onto the topic of presents, Larry grinned. "For Christmas!" Then, doing a happy spin, he asked Miles, "Do you get any presents for Chanukah?"
Miles nodded. "Yes. Didn't you see my action figure, and my dreidel?"
Larry nodded - and threw another snowball at Phoenix who was becoming quite irate by this time - and said, "But I mean, any big presents?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, last year, my parents bought me a gameboy."
Miles tilted his head. "No, I don't think so," he replied.
Phoenix was still sulking.
"Besides food," Larry informed Miles, "presents are the best part of Christmas."
"Isn't it supposed to be for that Jesus man?" Miles questioned.
"Who?"
Miles shook his head--he had to ask his father more about this Jesus guy later. After another half an hour, Phoenix got tired of getting snowballs thrown at him and decided to go home and sulk for a little while, closely followed by Larry, who was then followed by Miles who did not wish to be left alone. And so, the group disbanded in foul spirits. (Although their spirits were most likely to be resolved as soon as they forgot about their disagreement--for Larry, that would be in about ten minutes.)
That evening, when Miles trudged down the stairs, he did not see his father, who he had come to expect to be waiting for him beside the menorah and the stupid hat. He entered the doorway of the study--perhaps Father had simply gotten caught up in work again.
However, once he entered, Gregory all but flung himself on the desk. "Don't come in quite yet, Miles! Go wait by the menorah."
Glumly, Miles followed his father's instructions. After what felt like forever, his father entered the room carrying a--a parcel? He stared curiously at it as Gregory pushed it into his hands.
"Happy sixth day of Chanukah, Miles."
He opened it and saw a thin, hardcover book of law - advertising 'Easy-To-Understand' and on top of that...was it? No, it wasn't real, but it was made of metal and...and...
"A defense attorney's badge?" He gasped.
Gregory winked. "To hold you off for a few years."
Unable to dim his enthusiasm, Miles flung his arms around Gregory. "Thank you so much, Father!"
In his excitement, he nearly forgot to help Gregory light the sixth candle on the menorah.
====
On Sundays, the three boys generally meet up, with Larry usually being grounded, Phoenix usually off with his Mom who valued 'family time' and Miles was usually tired of the lot by the end of the week.
This Sunday, however, was different. Larry had announced that he was going to be visiting family during the Christmas holidays, so Phoenix was adamant that they spend their Sunday together to see Larry off. A week was, after all, such a very long time.
They met at Larry's house on the condition that they stay in Larry's room. Upon entering, Miles was immediately bowled over with the fact that it was clean for once. "Your room is clean," he commented.
"That's 'cause if it wasn't clean, Santa wouldn't come."
Phoenix bounced on the bed and burrowed through Larry's drawers to find the second controller for the N64. "If you want Santa to come, you hafta be good all year, not just in December."
Larry threw his pillow at Phoenix.
"Ow."
Miles ignored the two boys, who he felt were acting quite immature and deigned to instead sit there polishing his new badge.
"Hey Miles," Phoenix said, after he finished pouting, "does Santa come to your house?"
Miles shook his head. "I told you that I don't celebrate Christmas."
Larry inspected the badge from over his shoulder and said, "Yeah, but Santa gives gifts to all the good boys and girls. Maybe you were just bad."
"No!" Exclaimed Miles. "Was not! I was nice to you two, wasn't I? And besides, I'm gonna grow up to be great, and nice, and believe in justice and truth and stuff."
Larry shrugged. "Whatever you say."
Miles screwed up his face. "Santa doesn't exist anyways."
Larry stared at Miles as if he had just been slapped across the face. "Does so!"
Phoenix, ever the pacifist, intruded between the two of them and suggested, "Maybe he only comes to the good kids' houses who celebrate Christmas, and Miles has a--a Chanukah elf or something."
"I don't think we have any elves during Chanukah..."
The three boys lapsed into silence for a grand total of two minutes before Larry picked up his controller, the incident already forgotten.
That night, Miles, who certainly didn't forget, spoke to his father at the dinner table. He chewed furiously and gulped the piece of chicken down. "Father, today my friends were talking about Santa Claus."
Gregory chewed thoughtfully and gestured for Miles to go on with his fork.
"And Phoenix said that there was a Chanukah elf. Is there?"
His father's mouth twisted into a smile before he gave a gulp, swallowing his mouthful of food. "No," he said, grabbing a napkin and wiping at the sides of his mouth, "we have nothing like that."
Miles nodded, feeling a little downcast--even if he said that he didn't believe in Santa Claus, the thought of someone coming in and giving you presents was a nice one.
"But we have a story too. No one who gives us presents, but there is a story."
Miles eyes shone. "What?"
"It was about a group of people called the Maccabees..."
For some reason, that evening, Miles didn't feel quite so stupid wearing the stupid hat. Not quite so stupid.
But he still hated it.
====
The schoolyard felt empty without the familiar - and annoying - presence of Larry after school, so Miles and Phoenix decided to sit down and talk about what Phoenix described as ‘stuff’ before beginning the long trek home.
"You know," Phoenix said, pausing in his constant quest to catch a snowflake on his tongue, "my family's coming soon."
Miles eyed a patch of yellow snow with distaste. "What family?"
"Everyone," Phoenix grinned. "My aunts and uncles and my cousins and--"
"Is it fun?" Miles interrupted, looking thoughtful.
Phoenix nodded. "Yeah," he said. "They always come every year for Christmas, and it's lots of fun. Except for when my Grandma goes a little weird."
"Weird?"
Phoenix stood at twirled. "You know. Crazy. She runs around the house shouting about channeling people and how we're actually mediums and how we're disgracing our roots and stuff. She also thinks I'm a porcupine, so I don't really believe her."
"You sound like you hear this a lot."
"I do." Phoenix made a face. "She ran around the house without wearing anything once. Mom covered my eye, but it was still gross. She started talking about being possessed."
Miles considered this and found himself very thankful that he did not have a Crazy Grandma Wright. "But is it fun besides that?"
Phoenix paused, kicking snow around. "Yeah. It's really fun. They're family, right? Mom tells me that's one thing you hafta have. Anyways, do you get your family over a lot?"
The crunch of snow was loud underneath Miles' boots as he suddenly stood up. "Come on," he said. "Let's go home now."
Phoenix nodded, and the two boys trudged all the way home.
That evening, it took all of Miles' courage to address his father, but in the end, he finally managed to speak. "Father?"
Gregory looked at him from his perch of standing there, attempting to find the stupid hat. "What is it Miles?"
Miles stood there, biting his lip before speaking up. "I was wondering if...if we could ever have family over. For holidays. I mean, Phoenix brought it up, and, and, and...I just thought."
At Gregory's expression--sad and faraway--Miles felt as if he shouldn't have said anything. Whenever Miles mentioned Mom, who he never really knew, this was how Father looked. After what felt like an eternity, Gregory spoke.
“Sorry kiddo,” he said, placing a hand on Miles’ head and using the name all too fatherly that he only did when very upset, “but it’s just you and me.”
"No aunts or crazy grandmothers?" Miles felt obligated to ask.
Gregory shook his head, looking so far away from him that it nearly broke Miles’ heart. “But,” he said desperately, tugging at Gregory’s shirt sleeve in a fashion quite unlike himself, “we have each other, don’t we?”
Gregory leaned down, taking Miles’ hat off his head to brush the flyaway strands down affectionately. “We do.”
At seeing the smile, Miles determinedly went on. “And…and that’s all we need, isn’t it?”
Gregory nodded, eyes sadder than ever and smile happier.
“So…it’s kind of like a family party, isn’t it?”
Gregory finally grinned at that. “It is. And there’s one more candle waiting for us.”
Miles hopped away from Gregory and towards the table he knew the menorah would be on, but instead of Gregory lighting up a match, he held out what looked like a flame dancing on the edge of a plastic handle. “What’s that?”
“We’re family, aren’t we?” Gregory held it out to Miles. “Let’s light the last one together.”
Small hands gripping large ones, the eighth candle was finally lit.
The next day, Larry was back - apparently his great grandmother caught some sort of foot fungi - and immediately set to questioning Miles about his last day of Chanukah. “So was the food awesome? How about the presents? That’s the best part, isn’t it?”
To each on, Miles smugly shook his head.
“Did all of your family come?” Phoenix wanted to know.
At that, Miles smiled-a real smile, which was something rare to see on the usually-solemn face. “Yes,” he answered after a moment, smile growing larger by the second. “And that’s the best part.”
In other news, off to San Francisco for a week! :D