Bashert

For Jonathan

1977 — 2004

Always remembered and forever loved.

T
HE
MAN
’
S
image in the mirror, framed by small twinkling lights and swags of spruce and holly, appeared to be just the sort of ornament Jonah Stern had been looking for all his life—or at least the part of his life that spanned the years since puberty. The phrase
objects in the mirror are closer than they appear
came to mind, making him smile. He should be so lucky. The object of his desire had the sun-kissed good looks of a surfer dude—blond, blue-eyed, and cherub-cheeked—a nice contrast to Jonah’s halo of untamable dark-brown hair, hazel eyes, and stubbled jaw. The blond appeared tall, and he had a square chin bisected with a noticeable cleft. Jonah shifted to the left, inching his image closer to the blond’s. Yes, he was exactly the type of man Jonah could see himself with. Too bad more than the width of the room separated them.

So near, and so agonizingly far.

Jonah had planned to celebrate his first Christmas, and his freshman year at Penn State, by losing his virginity to the perfect man, but he had yet to act on his decision. He blamed it on his studies, but in reality he didn’t know how to break out of his shell to meet a like-minded goy. Making the decision had been easy; finding the man, not so much. Being a little shy and short on friends didn’t help. A bar seemed the best option, but Jonah didn’t have one ounce of gaydar in his body, and unfortunately for him, gay guys did not go around wearing sexual ID tags. Jonah looked around—discreetly of course—for a gay bar, a place where a guy could go by himself and not feel left out.

On one of his forays around campus, he’d spotted the one and only gay watering hole. The first time Jonah saw the rainbow flag flying out front, he’d taken off like a scared rabbit. He’d known coming out wouldn’t be easy, but he never imagined it would be this hard. Telling his parents had been rough. Jonah thought it would be easier to bare all to a stranger, but now that he’d found the right bar, he couldn’t force himself to show his true colors, even in a place that was user friendly.

Now, months later, he’d finally worked up the courage to hit happy hour. And now that he was here, he wondered why he’d waited so long. The Rainbow Room—could the name be any more gay?—felt like a neighborhood type of bar, a place where a guy could have a conversation without screaming over loud dance music. Actually, there was no dance floor, and that was all good too. Jonah Stern didn’t dance, especially with other men.

Other than the lights around the bar, there wasn’t much in the way of Christmas decorations, but the scrubbed tables and wood paneling gave the place a cozy feel. Really cozy. In fact, the small room gave Jonah a
trapped in the closet
kind of feeling. Maybe a few drinks would make it go away. You can’t go wrong with a well-poured Guinness. Jonah took a swallow of his and scanned the mirror for his dream man. Yep, still there, and alone by all appearances. But a good-looking guy like that would not be alone long.

Hooking up with the man in the mirror didn’t seem likely. Jonah would not, could not, make the first move, and he didn’t expect the blond to hit on him, because he was a man who didn’t stand out in a crowd, unless it was for all the wrong reasons. After a lifetime of doing stupid shit, Jonah had become an expert at sabotaging himself. Too bad Penn State didn’t offer a course in
How Not to Embarrass Yourself.

All first-year students were required to live on campus in a coed residence hall. The small room he shared with another guy didn’t lend itself to holiday decorating, and that was okay because Jonah Stern had been born and raised Jewish, and a man assimilated a lot of attitudes and beliefs in nineteen years. Ridding himself of them would take another nineteen.
At least.
Still, his ancestry hadn’t prevented Jonah from shopping for one of those silly Christmas sweaters decorated with trees and elves. When he saw himself in the dressing room mirror, a nagging started in the pit of his belly. Just because Jonah had stopped observing the Jewish holidays didn’t mean he could completely forget them. But he sure as hell intended to try. Burying his guilt, he bought the sweater before he could change his mind and today he’d worn it like a disguise at a masquerade party, thinking it would help him blend in.
Wrong!

When he’d first entered the bar he got a few snickers and more than a few strange looks. After glancing around at the jeans-and-sweatshirt crowd, he’d regretted his choice. He was trying too hard, and he looked like an asshole. He should have decorated his dorm room instead of his body, but at the time it seemed like a good idea. Now, he just felt spotlighted and completely out of his element. He’d almost turned around and gone home, but it was his first year away from home, so he forgave himself for not getting it right and decided to tough it out. He was already here.
Fuck it.

Jonah took a big gulp of liquid courage and tried to look like he belonged, which was next to impossible. Though the bar was overrun with men, nobody looked like him, and everybody seemed to be with friends. Jonah ignored the conversations around him and looked at his watch every so often, as if he were waiting for someone. It made him feel less alone.
I’m pathetic.
What would his mother say if she could see him now? Thank goodness, she was miles away and oblivious.

His mom, and his dad too, meant well, and God knew he loved them both, despite the fact that they were so stereotypically Jewish and well versed in the overprotective caretaker role. They claimed they just wanted the best for him. Liars. They wanted him to marry a nice Jewish girl and give them a grandchild. Jonah just wanted to be left alone. He’d never bought into that whole
Chosen People
concept—the idea that he’d been set on Earth to procreate and fulfill some special purpose. On the contrary, Jonah saw his connection to Judaism more like a blood-borne pathogen. Fortunately, he wouldn’t be passing it on to future generations. Jonah took another swallow and looked into the mirror over the bar. Good grief, he looked really ridiculous. He stood out like a—

In the mirror, the blond caught Jonah’s eye, and a slow grin raised one corner of his mouth. Jonah could barely breathe, he was so excited.
Is he really smiling at me?
Then the man winked. At him. Jonah watched a flush creep over his own face, and he averted his eyes.

Stop acting like a dork. This is what you wanted. Man up.
Jonah raised his eyes, but it was already too late. A jock had claimed the blond beauty’s attention, and Jonah couldn’t hope to compete. It was the story of his life.

He sighed and settled back on his stool. God, he hated this time of the year. Back home the holidays had always made him feel more alone than usual. Why had he expected things to be different here? He might be in a bar with standing room only, but he was on his own. His back was turned to the crowd, but he could still see them in the mirror—guys of all shapes and sizes, pairing up like animals ready to board Noah’s Ark. It was damn depressing. He stared down at his beer.

Suddenly two hands came around Jonah and gripped the bar, effectively trapping him. Jonah met a blue-eyed gaze in the mirror, and his heart skipped a beat. At this rate, the blond would need a defibrillator to get a rise out of him. Blue Eyes leaned over Jonah’s shoulder and spoke softly. “Is this seat taken?”

The warm breath fanning his ear turned up Jonah’s core temperature, and he just about melted into the man behind him.
Get a grip.
Jonah glanced at the bar stool on his left. The previous occupant had vacated.

“I don’t bite,” the blond said. “Unless you want me to.”

Utterly tongue-tied, Jonah could only sit there with his mouth open while the grinning blond slid onto the stool next to him. The bartender came right over, and the blond pointed to Jonah’s empty mug and held up two fingers.

Jonah had never been much of a talker. Chitchat in crowded bars and parties exhausted him. Even after all these years, he still felt like a timid nebbish in the presence of so much Gentile male beauty.

“My name’s Christian, by the way.”

Oh. My. God.
Christian! The man’s name was Christian, for God’s sake. Follower of Christ.
What the hell am I doing here?

“You okay?” Christian asked. He raised a brow.

The man he’d been ogling in the mirror like some lovesick cow was sitting next to him, expecting to have a normal conversation with a normal guy, and Jonah could barely get a word past the lump in his throat. He coughed it out and cleared his throat before attempting to speak. “Yeah, sure. Just a little stressed. I’m Joe.”
A little?
Jonah’s nerves were strung tighter than the strings on his old guitar.

“Yeah, I get it. Holidays tend to bring out the crazy. Don’t worry, help is on the way.”

The bartender returned with their beers. Christian held his up and touched it to Jonah’s. “You look like you need this more than me.”

Jonah combed his fingers through his unruly hair and forced a smile as he raised the bottle. “Thanks.” Jonah downed half the mug. Hot guys intimidated him. Especially hot guys he was lusting over. Christian looked like the type of guy who let everything roll off his back. Jonah wished he could be like that. Unfortunately, his background didn’t permit it. He was more prone to overthink every situation and roll it around in his head until he killed it.

“Boy, I’m looking forward to the break.” Christian let out a small sigh. “I’m a business major. You?”

“English.”

“Guess I better watch my language. You’re not a grammar Nazi, are you?”

Jonah went cold before he realized it was just a joke. He shook his head and managed a smile. “A grammar queen, maybe.”

“Well done. I think I may be in grammatical lust. Why haven’t I seen you around?”

Jonah shrugged. “I’m a freshman.”

“Oh, okay. That explains it, ’cause I know I would have noticed you.”

Totally flattered, Jonah could only mumble some unintelligible affirmation.

Christian’s mouth twitched with amusement. “Nice sweater.”

“I feel like an idiot.” Truer words were never spoken. But it could have been worse. He almost wore reindeer ears.

“I love it. You look like a Christmas present just waiting to be unwrapped.”

Jonah had no idea how to reply. He couldn’t read Christian. Was the man making fun of him or just being friendly? Or was there more to it? Heat crept up his cheeks, and he ran a finger under the collar of his sweater.

Christian laughed. “It is getting a bit warm in here.” He finished his beer and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “I wish I could stay longer, but I just stopped in for a quick one. I’m going home for Christmas, and my ride will be leaving soon. Maybe we can get together after the holidays.”

The kiss-off.
Jonah felt his heart sink, but he nodded in agreement.

Christian pulled a cell phone from his pocket and held it out.

Jonah’s confusion must have been written on his face.

“Do you want to give me your number?”

“Oh.” Jonah took the phone and added his number to the contacts. He couldn’t help noticing there were a lot. He handed the phone back, and their fingers brushed, setting off a little spark of electricity.

“Great. I’ll call you when I get back.”

Christian turned abruptly and brushed a kiss over Jonah’s lips. It was over before it began, and Jonah’s eyes remained closed an instant longer than necessary. When he opened them, Christian was grinning and pointing up.

“Mistletoe. I couldn’t resist. Enjoy your holiday.”

Then in one sleek motion, Christian stood and was gone. Just that fast.
Shit!
When Christian singled him out, Jonah’s hopes had soared so high that he should have been primed for disappointment. He didn’t expect Christian to call. Hookups never worked for him, and when they did, things always fizzled quicker than they heated. Jonah considered sticking around, but trying to make conversation with another man didn’t appeal to him. Besides, no one else seemed remotely interested in him. When he got up to leave, no one looked his way.

Dusk had fallen, and when Jonah walked outside he felt like he’d landed in the Emerald City. Red, gold, and green banners adorned the streets, and the shops on both sides of the avenue were well decorated with festive displays and all kinds of dazzling lights. The icing on the cake was a huge and impressively decorated Christmas tree in the city square and an amateur choir singing Christmas carols around it. Unwilling to return to his lonely apartment just yet, Jonah stood on the sidelines listening. It was magic.

Despite the fact that Hanukkah would begin tomorrow, there were no decorations commemorating the Festival of Lights. Not surprising. Hanukkah was a minor holiday—an ethnic celebration, not a religious one.

The story behind Hanukkah went way back—to the second century, when the Greek king of Syria, Antiochus, attempted to force the Jews to stop practicing their faith and worship other gods. The Jews refused, and war ensued, which led to the defeat of the king. When the victorious people in Judea returned to the temple to cleanse it for a rededication and reinstate their traditions, they found only enough oil to light the lamps for one day. Supplies didn’t arrive for eight days, but somehow, the lamps continued to burn. Today the Jewish people celebrated Hanukkah as a season of lights, exchanging gifts and lighting a unique eight-branched candelabrum called a menorah. Jonah, haunted by the ghost of Hanukkah past, felt he had nothing to celebrate. This year, all he wanted for Hanukkah was a chance to embrace Christmas.