The Many Mysteries of the Finkel Family by Sarah Kapit (best selling autobiographies TXT) 📗

In theory, Rosh Hashanah was a moment for celebration. So, despite her decided lack of holiday spirit, Lara went about the usual Rosh Hashanah business the next morning. She dressed up in her very nicest dress for synagogue—purple with white trim. She went to synagogue and recited the prayers. She mostly contained her rage at Benny, who had taken to blowing the shofar at inconvenient moments.

By the time the late afternoon rolled around, Lara just wanted to curl up in bed with a book. Unfortunately, reading wasn’t generally considered an appropriate Rosh Hashanah activity.

“Hello.”

Lara glanced up at her sister, who was dressed in a bright green dress that Lara considered rather hideous. “Hi,” she said.

“We’re going to Lake Sammamish to do tashlikh. Do you want to come?” Caroline asked.

Lara made a face. She did not particularly want to walk around the lake in the cold while throwing bread crumbs into the water. The ritual of tashlikh was supposed to symbolize throwing away sins for the new year, but Lara didn’t feel particularly burdened by sin. Caroline, however, probably could do with throwing several loaves into the lake. She could do that without Lara, though. Just like she did everything without Lara these days.

She shrugged. “No thanks.”

For a moment, Caroline looked as though she was about to say something. Instead, she just said a single word. “Fine.”

Lara wandered into the kitchen in search of something more interesting to do. Instead, she just found the chaotic sight of her father and Aunt Miriam trying to cook at the same time in the same kitchen. Well, hopefully at least one of them would manage to cook decent food.

She returned to her room to enjoy a precious few hours of quiet time before the holiday started up again. Sure enough, Ima called the family to dinner at exactly six o’clock.

“When can I have my shofar back?” Benny asked Ima.

“Yom Kippur. Possibly,” their mother replied.

Lara silently cheered the apparent confiscation of Benny’s shofar. No doubt he’d find some other way to annoy her, but she would take the victory.

She slid into her favorite seat at the dining table. A few moments later, Aviva joined her. Lara reminded herself that she was trying to be nice to Aviva now. Maybe it could even be her Rosh Hashanah resolution. After all, Aviva actually wanted Lara’s friendship. Unlike certain other people.

“L’shana tova,” she told Aviva. There. Wishing her cousin a good year was, at the very least, a start to her new and improved approach.

“Thank you,” Aviva said. “But you should know that it’s not actually ‘l’shana tova.’ It’s just ‘shana tova.’”

Clenching her fists, Lara sighed. Already she regretted her choice of resolution. Maybe she should just pick something easier, like cleaning her room more often.

“Why exactly is the lah wrong?” Lara asked crossly. She’d always rather liked the sound of the Hebrew lah, and not just because it sounded a little like the first syllable of her own name.

“Lah means ‘for’ in Hebrew. So if you say ‘l’shana tova’, you’re saying ‘for a good new year.’ That sounds a little odd, do you not think so?”

Lara bit her tongue. Several sharp retorts popped into her brain, most of which centered around Aviva’s problems with English. She did not, however, actually say any of her mean thoughts. Really quite noble of her, when you thought about it.

Still, she wasn’t going to let Miss Know-It-All have the last word.

“I don’t see why saying ‘for a good year’ is wrong,” she said. “After all, we say ‘l’chaim.’ That means ‘for life,’ doesn’t it? Isn’t that the same thing?”

Aviva bit her lip and looked down at the plate setting of Ima’s best china. “I don’t know. It’s just that I’ve never heard a Hebrew speaker say ‘l’shana tova.’ I just thought you’d want to know.”

“Well, I don’t,” Lara said, more sharply than she’d intended.

The rest of the family bursting in for dinner spared Lara from the need to continue the conversation. Thank goodness.

Lara glanced at Caroline. She opened her mouth to invite Caroline to sit next to her. Before she could manage to find the right words, Caroline found a seat at the other end of the table.

Fine.

Aunt Miriam came out, hands full of platters. Lara’s mouth watered in anticipation.

“Anyada buena, dulse i alegre,” Aunt Miriam said from the head of the table.

Lara blinked in confusion. Those words weren’t English, obviously. But they didn’t sound like Hebrew, either. If anything, it sounded a lot like Spanish, which was most definitely not Lara’s best subject.

“What does that mean?” Benny blurted out.

“It’s Ladino,” Aviva answered for her mother. “It’s our New Year’s greeting. The Sephardic greeting, I mean.”

Lara scowled. She and her siblings were Sephardic too, even if Dad wasn’t. There really was no end to Aviva’s know-it-all-ness.

Aunt Miriam nodded. “Yes. And in the Sephardic tradition, we’re going to have some yehi ratzones—appetizers, that is—before our dinner.”

“Oooh, mozzarella sticks?” Benny asked. “Nachos?”

“Not exactly,” Aunt Miriam replied.

Yehi ratzones turned out to be decidedly less appetizing than nachos. Still, Lara was hungry enough to manage a few baked apples and a spoonful of spinach. Soon enough, the main course would be out. She hoped.

“I hope your dad cooked good food this time,” Aviva said, dipping an apple into honey.

“Of course he did,” Lara snapped. After all, Dad had made plenty of great food since the brisket fiasco. “I hope you actually can appreciate it.”

“Stop, Lara,” Caroline said—the very first words she’d said directly to Lara for the entire dinner. “Aviva didn’t mean anything by it. You don’t have to get so mad over every little thing.”

Lara glared. Just as she was busy coming up with the perfect response, Dad plopped a plate of roast chicken onto the center of the table. Lara grabbed a leg and was relieved to find that it tasted just as it ought to—juicy, moist, with just a hint of rosemary.

For several blessed moments, they enjoyed the satisfaction of good