Chapter Text
Winter was Sam's favorite season. As much as she stood by her summer motto that 'goths don't sweat, they simmer,' her year-round staples of layered outfits and chunky boots were far more comfortable this time of year. She liked how early it got dark outside, she liked how the cold wind on her cheeks made her feel distinctly alive, and she liked the feeling of heavy, peaceful silence that came with fresh snow. The evergreens in the mansion's front lawn were dusted with it, almost glowing with reflected light from the streetlamps—like the whole world was just a bit more ghostly this time of year.
Inside the mansion, the air was warm and laden with the tantalizing scents of herbs, roasted vegetables, and fresh bread. The dining table was set with the nice china and clustered with serving bowls, and at its center sat a beautiful olive oil cake Sam and Grandma Ida spent the afternoon baking. Sam served herself a slice and slathered it with with rose petal jam.
It wasn't often that Sam enjoyed family dinners. Sam often got away with escaping the kitchen with a plate of food and eating it alone in one of the TV rooms. On Sundays, though, eating with the family was mandatory, and Sam usually resented the enforced 'family time.'
The first night of Hanukkah was turning out to be an exception. Enjoying family dinner came more easily with the olive oil cake on the table and the hanukkiah flickering in the dining room window.
Her mother took a small, proper bite of her slice of cake, then closed her eyes and let out a satisfied hum. Then something Sam would never expect happened—her mother spoke with her mouth still full. "This is phenomenal."
Sam raised her eyebrows and shared a look with her bubbe, an unspoken did she really just break table etiquette? Then her father sampled his own slice, and his eyes lit up. "Oh wow—mom, Sam, you two really outdid yourselves with this. I think this cake should count as another miracle of oil."
Sam's mother laughed and nodded. "A little miracle to remember the big one by."
Grandma Ida held up a hand in invitation to Sam, who stood and reached across the table to high five her bubbe. Her mother sent her a rather unimpressed look for that, but perhaps because of her own lapse in table manners she let it pass and just shook her head fondly. "Thank you both. You two make Hanukkah even brighter."