Page 89 of A Little Bit Naughty

“You really are the bestest Daddy.” Izzy gave him dreamy eyes from behind his felted bundle of leaves. “Well, they all start the same. Try the beginning of this one.”

Remi mumbled his ways through the first five or six words, but the end was completely new. “What was that one?”

“It’s the shehechiyanu. It says, ‘thanks God, for sustaining us and bringing us to this season.’ But you do it whenever you’re excited that it’s the first time for something.” He leaned in close to Remi. “Like my very own sukkah on the roof with my Daddy.”

“That does sound like something to celebrate. So are we done?” Because Remi really wanted to kiss his boy again.

Izzy shook his head. “No. Now we have to shake. Activate the etrog!”

Remi raised his eyebrows.

“You have to turn it over so the pitom side is up. Mmmmmmmmrrrrrrrrmmmmpppp!” He made a rising sound like something filling up as he turned his etrog until the brown stem pointed toward the ceiling.

“This is really part of the ritual?”

“Really, Daddy. I’m serious.” He stamped his foot.

“Alright, baby boy.” Remi made the same blasting-off sound as he flipped the etrog over.

Izzy giggled. “You don’t have to make the sound.”

Now he told him. But Remi didn’t mind. As long as Izzy was laughing, that was all he cared about.

“Now what?”

“That way’s east.” Izzy turned and Remi turned with him. “So shake forward.” He gave the branches three little wiggles out to the front, then brought them back to his chest while Remi awkwardly followed. “Then to the side. And in back. And the other side. And up!” He raised his arms far over his head. “And down.”

The last one seemed like forward again, but Remi repeated the motion, thinking “downward” thoughts.

“We did the mitzvah! Good job!” Izzy put his toy versions down on the table.

“That was it?” He’d have to ask more about what this all meant when Izzy was big again. Right now, he was sure he would get an accurate definition, but one suited for a five-year-old.

“Yep! And it’s just about time for Shabbat to start. Let’s get the food.”

Remi brought over the grocery bags while Izzy exclaimed over each dish. It wasn’t the meal Remi would have planned for a little, but at the same time, Izzy was so excited about the rotisserie “tiny chicken” and the root vegetables that came “from the earth where they were growing” that Izzy made it into a perfect holiday meal.

He asked for Daddy’s help to light the candles, then told Remi proudly that he could do the blessings “all by myself, but you can sing too” over the wine and braided loaf of challah.

It turned out to be a beautiful ritual. It was strongly reminiscent of communion in church… until Remi realized that the order was the other way around. Communion must have always been making kiddush, that Christianity reclaimed for a different purpose.

That was a lot of theology that Remi wanted to discuss with Isaac… but not tonight.

Tonight was just for enjoying the soft glow of twinkle lights on Izzy’s golden skin, for cutting up his roast chicken into little bites and wiping his sticky fingers after he dug into his fruit tart with both hands.

Tonight was for reconnecting with his baby boy, who asked him sweetly to turn off the string lights so they could see the stars through the bamboo roof, rocking in his arms while the city spread out around them like a forest of stars on the ground.

When Izzy was yawning, Remi collected their trash and led him back to the elevator. “Let’s get you into bed, darling boy.”

“Yes, Daddy. And then when I wake up, it will be my birthday.”

“That’s right,” Remi agreed happily, wondering if it would be the birthday of a charming four-year-old boy or his equally delicious almost-twenty-eight-year-old man.

Izzy used the bathroom while he put a couple things away, and then wandered down the hall to Izzy’s room. The light was dim, just a single bulb lit on a metal lamp pole. It made the dorm-issue room feel close and intimate. This was where Izzy slept each night. There were Roary and Lizzy tangled in the covers on his bed.

Izzy emerged from the bathroom and held up a white padded rectangle. “Daddy? Dippo Daddy?” His voice had slipped higher and younger, not even pronouncing the r at the end of the word, but he still looked nervous.

Remi’s heart felt like it would explode in his chest. His precious, precious baby boy. He knew the amount of trust this entailed, how fully Izzy was giving himself to him.