Work Text:
Riley plasters a fake smile onto her face when the doorbell rings. Weeks ago, she and Jack had made a pact. Think we can pretend to get along? For your mom’s sake? That’s who the smile is for. Her mom. Definitely not for some interloper who pretends like he’s her dad and who her mom has now invited over for the first night of Hanukkah.
Jack isn’t even Jewish, so Riley doesn’t know why he’s pretending to care. But she forces herself to smile anyway. To pretend that she doesn’t actively resent Jack’s existence because he makes Mom happy.
They make it through lighting the candles and eating dinner with minimal bad jokes from Jack. It’s only after that he nudges her with his elbow and reaches into the pocket of his coat that’s slung over the back of a chair.
“I got something for you,” he says, placing the wrapped package into her hands.
She didn’t think to get him anything. But he doesn’t seem like he expects something in return. Instead he just watches, waiting for her to open it. She does, slowly, trying to make it seem like she doesn’t care that much. Twelve is way too old to get excited about Hanukkah presents, after all.
Riley opens the package. She smiles in spite of herself. And she nudges Jack with her elbow.
For years, the Gameboy Jack gave her is kept safe in a shoebox under the bed. Even when Riley goes to prison, she makes sure her mom keeps it safe, never telling her what’s in it, only that it’s important and has nothing to do with what got her locked up. It stays there until at last it finds its new home dead center on a shelf in Riley’s living room. A place of honor.
And once a year, a candle sits next to it, remembering the person who gave it to her.