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Scott hissed as the wooden dreidel finally wobbled to a stop. “ Shit - shin. Shin,” he corrected, glancing nervously over in Logan’s direction and hoping he didn’t catch what he had almost said. “That’s what I said.”
“C’mon, Slim. Put three in the pot,” Logan said, grinning. “One for each fork.”
“God, you guys, I’m already losing really badly. I only have four coins left, so can you just let me off the hook?”
“Nope. Pay up.” Logan motioned towards the center of the rickety card table. “And try not ta cuss in front of the kids. They don’t need that comin’ from Professor Goody Two-Shoes.”
Scott opened his mouth to protest, but, upon thinking better of it, just grumbled and pushed three gelt towards the middle of the table.
Emma then picked up the dreidel, spinning it expertly between her nimble fingers. “Logan, I think you’re going to want to hand over that large pile in the middle you’ve been eyeing. I have a good feeling, if you will.”
Her eyes narrowed as she watched the toy come to a final stop, then breathed a small sigh of relief when it landed on ה . She smirked at all of them, pushing half of the pile of wrapped chocolate towards her.
“Okay, it’s my turn now, guys.” Jean took the dreidel from Emma and gave it a whirl. She winced when it flew out of her hand, spinning off-kilter and almost toppling. “Whoops…”
Despite the rocky throw, the dreidel was mesmerizing - a blur of soft, worn, honey-brown wood and iridescent purple and green letters. The four of them watched intently, holding their collective breath as it circled, ever closer and closer to falling.
The toy finally landed on the painted violet ג and Jean let out a shriek, grabbing Scott’s hands from across the table. “Look at me, Scott! I won! I did win, right Logan?” She gave him a quizzical look as she scooped the remains of the gelt pile into her stretched-out sweater.
“Yeah, I guess ya did, if ya wanna play it that way,” he replied, amused. “But ya gotta share the love, Jeannie. Can’t just let Cyke get all of it ‘cause he lost.”
Scott’s head shot up. “Hey! I did not lose! And it’s not about winning or losing anyway, it’s about celebrating the miracle of Judah Maccabee and his revolt! That’s what the letters symbolize!”
Emma lifted his chin and kissed him. “Scott, it’s very endearing when you play the role of every mother’s good Jewish boy, but you have to admit at some point that you lost. You can have some pity chocolate later, though.”
Scott bit his lip, the faint outline of a pout tracing his lips, and laid his head back on the table. “My point still stands. But I’m challenging you all to a rematch.”
“Sore loser, eh, Scotty?” Logan asked, one eyebrow raised and his mouth curled into a smug smile. “I’m game. Gotta have a fair trade off, though. If ya lose again, winner gets a kiss. And maybe somethin’ else…up to them what that might be, though.”
“Logan -” Scott sputtered, his jaw dropped in incredulity and his cheeks scarlet with embarrassment. “You can’t just - just say that! There are children here!”
“Careful, Slim, yer gonna end up with some flies in yer trap if ya leave it hangin’ open like that. And I’m pretty sure these kids are too busy with their own, er, ‘holiday enjoyment’” - Logan flashed a quick look over at the students sitting at the expensively decorated dining room table, furtive glances and giggles their only method of communication - “ta pay attention ta what we’re doin’.”
“I - That’s a double standard -” He huffed at Logan from across the table and tossed the dreidel unceremoniously over to him. “You know what? Fine. Let’s go. I’m excited to see your face when I win.”
Logan smirked back at him and spun the dreidel back and forth between his large hands. “Good luck with that, Scotty. It ain’t gonna happen any time soon. I'm lookin' forward ta that kiss, though…”