I try to pronounce the word the way my brother does, but he’s had many more years to get his Hebrew down. “It’s like this harvest celebration. And, trust me, when Cohen’s family has a celebration that’s actually upbeat, you gotta go. I’ve been to a lot of pretty bummer holidays at the ‘gogue.” Deo shudders and blows a long breath out as he drives into the city. “Yom Kippur? I was seriously considering throwing myself into the ocean after I atoned for every evil humans every committed. Like collectively. It gets deep, trust me. But Shavuot is all flowers and milk and honey, and Mrs. Rodriguez makes this intense atayef, which is like a pancake full of cheese. I’d be the worst brother on the earth if I didn’t hook you up with one of those bad boys. Also, Cece is doing some crazy feminist interpretive play about Ruth with her Gender and Religion class, so we’re trying to show our support.” “Okay. Sounds solid.” I try to be easygoing about how exciting this all is for me.
