boldygoing | L'shanah tovah [for losthunter]

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L'shanah tovah [for losthunter]

Jim Kirk has not celebrated any holidays with his family for a very long time.

Sure, they started talking again after his enlistment in Starfleet made its way into several Earth newsfeeds, the usual media vultures seeking attention for their coverage of George Kirk's son returning to the fold, so to speak. Confined mostly to text-based messages, and a few short video calls, his grandparents have reached out to him over the past few years, trying to reconnect, to mend old fences, and giving a standing invitation to come visit whenever he's ready.

He's always had an excuse for not going, citing existing plans to spend time with Bones, to study for upcoming exams, or being out of the solar system on Starfleet business, among other things. But with the Enterprise still out of commission as her repairs and overhaul nears completion, and having spent several weeks sharing living space with his mother again, he can't really wiggle out of it this year.

Not that he's even sure he wants to, anymore.

His family life has never really been the poster child for well-adjusted people, but... they're still his family. And maybe it's time to stop running away from his problems and pretending they don't exist. He's not a traumatized thirteen-year-old anymore, overwhelmed and isolated in the knowledge that none of them can truly appreciate the horrors he lived through, lashing out at a world that allowed such things to happen to him. He's turned his life around, cleaned up his act, and started down a path that is far more important than just fulfilling his own wants, regardless of the legality. And this particular holiday seems like the appropriate time to try to make amends.

Fortunately, he doesn't have to deal with it alone.

Jim patiently waits just outside a public transporter terminal in the Chicago suburbs, sitting on a park bench. While still wearing civilian clothes, he's on the slightly more formal side of things today in a white dress shirt and dark pants, though he's not bothered to wear a tie. It's about mid-afternoon, and the streets are mildly busy with people out for a stroll or out running errands of some kind, a steady flow of foot traffic both on the sidewalks and beaming in and out at the transporter platforms. He idly watches them pass by, keeping an eye out for his expected guest, whose PINpoint coordinates should bring him out exactly where everyone expects people to appear out of nowhere.

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Jim hasn't told his family - any of them - about the Nexus thus far. They're not close enough for that right now, and with the history they've had... well, keeping secrets from each other is no strange thing to a family where some have served in Starfleet anyway.

"Yes, I'd say so," Winona says, giving Jim another side glance before returning her attention to Hunter. "I'd like to thank you, for being there for him when I couldn't. New York is a little closer than the Beta Tau sector."

Jim's feelings on her behavioral turnaround are complicated, to say the least. The fact that it took him actually dying to get her to reach out in any kind of meaningful way stings a bit, even if she doesn't know it was that bad. But... she's making the effort now, and while he can't forget, he's trying to forgive. He's not entirely innocent in creating the rift between them either. And this time of year is supposed to be about making amends, so he doesn't say anything about it.

"I am glad I was there for him too." Hunter had only known Jim for a few weeks, when he received the call from Spock that Jim was in the hospital.

And now, because they have just gotten closer, they have known each other for several months.

"Come now, let's not focus on the bad things this past year brought us," Ruth says, touching Winona and Hunter both on the arm, smiling at them. "We have so much to appreciate today. Family and fellowship, and everyone is safe and healthy. And hungry, I hope?"

"You'd better have brought your appetite," James adds with a grin. "Ruth would make us all enough to feed us through Yom Kippur if I didn't stop her."

So far, Jim is hopeful for dinner to go well. While his mom is a bit more restrained, his grandparents are the type to feed strays and welcome in strangers on Shabbat, and while it may take a little time for Hunter to be completely comfortable, he hopes they've already begun putting him at ease. "I've been looking forward to this," he says honestly. "I've missed your cooking."

"I have plenty of appetite, especially since whatever you are making smells delicious." He smiles at Ruth.

He does already feel at ease. "He speaks of some of your meals fondly."

Ruth beams at the praise, eager to introduce her cooking to yet another hungry guest. "Oh, and you've brought wine," she says, seeing the wrapped bottle in Hunter's hand. "We'll be sure to have that with the meal. Jim tells us this is your first time celebrating Rosh Hashanah?"

Hunter laughs, since he almost forgot about his gift. "For the kind hostess and host."

"No. I haven't. I am quite curious about it."

James takes the wine with gratitude. "Don't worry if you don't know what's going on," he says, grinning. "It took me a while to get the hang of all the rituals when I first met Ruth too. Gets to be second nature after a while, but just do what everyone else does and you'll be fine."

"Well, let's not let dinner get cold," Winona says, gesturing for them to head into the dining room. "We still have to do the blessings before we can eat."

Unlike some holidays that Hunter may be used to, there are no fancy decorations or electronic lights, no overbearing focus on making the room festive like more commercialized holidays. The round table is set with handpainted china and fine silver, with two unlit candles in the center of the blue tablecloth. There's no head of the table, but one place setting has a more elaborately decorated silver cup in addition to the regular wine glass, as well as a cloth-covered loaf of challah. The rest of the foods on the table are varied and numerous: whole roasted fish stuffed with lemon and herbs, braised brisket with onions and carrots, matzo ball soup, apple-date tarts, lemon-parsley leeks, pomegranate coleslaw, and sweet potato latkes, as well as plain sliced apples. Each place setting has a small shallow dish of honey, as well.

There's certainly enough food on the table that there's going to be leftovers to take home. Clearly, Ruth Davis could give Molly Weasley a run for her money if she needed to cook for more than five people.

Hunter is amazed at the amount of food on the round table. He also smiles at the china and silver that decorates the table. He is also surprised by how much food there is going to be on the table.

"This looks wonderful. All of it."

"Thank you dear," Ruth says, beaming. Her goal is always to see her guests satisfied, no matter who they are. "Winnie, would you light the candles please?"

The candle-lighting is a part of the ritual, as Winona lights the candles and holds her hands in front of her eyes, and says the short blessing in Hebrew. Jim is rather rusty when it comes to this particular language, something he hasn't used in years, so he's more than content to play a passive role here and just say the 'amen' at the end.

After the candles, that fancier wine glass comes into play as James fills it to the brim and holds it low over the table as he chants the kiddush, a somewhat longer recitation than the blessing over the candles. Once the ritual words are complete, he takes a sip and passes the cup around for everyone to partake.

The last ritual is in two parts. Each member of the family uses a cup to pour water over each of their hands twice before reciting their own blessing (Jim goes last, so he doesn't have to struggle to remember what's supposed to be said). Then James uncovers the challah, holds it up and blesses it, before tearing off a piece and dipping it into his honey, and passes the bread around so everyone else can take a piece. No other words are spoken between the handwashing and eating the bread, but after that, the dam is broken, and it's time to begin loading up plates with the feast on offer.

[ooc: The blessings have some of the holier names of God in them, which aren't supposed to be written down except in specific circumstances, so I'm erring on the side of not posting transliterations out of respect.]

Hunter watches, quiet yet fascinated all the same, as they go through the different rituals. First, the candle-lighting, which he isn't even sure if he should say 'amen' or not, so decides to just hold Jim's hand in silent support during the short blessing.

And then he watches in interest of the next ritual. When the cup reaches him, Hunter politely takes a small sip out of respect.

Finally, he watches the family members recite their own blessings, a small smile tugs at his lips as Jim takes his church. As the challah is past around, he too takes a piece, after observing everyone else do it too.

Then everyone starts loading up their plates. So Hunter is glad it is something familiar. He has a lot of questions, but doesn't want to disturb the ritual.

[ooc: good call]

Once the bread has been blessed and the initial bites eaten, and everyone begins to pass around dishes for each other to serve themselves, the ritual atmosphere of the evening gives way to a more familiar, relaxed mealtime. Jim takes some of everything, and he's surprised to find it oddly comforting to have these familiar foods on his plate again after such a long time without. No one ever makes holiday meals the same way as one's grandmother does, after all.

"The honey's for dipping the apples in too," Jim tells Hunter as he puts a few apple slices on his own plate. "It's kind of a 'let's have a sweet new year' kind of thing."

"Ah..." Hunter takes a little of everything too, even if it is something that he has not tried before. He wants to sample all the foods that Jim's grandmother had prepared.

"A sweet new year sounds like a wonderful thing to wish for."

"It's a central part of the Rosh Hashanah meals," Ruth adds, pleased to see a healthy appetite in her guests. "You don't want to take in anything bitter at the beginning of a new year."

James tops up everyone's wine glasses before digging into his own meal. Hunter's choice of gift is clearly a good one, pairing well with the food on offer without being too dry. "Do you celebrate the secular new year?" he asks. "They still do that ball drop thing in New York, right?"

Even though Jim hasn't told them about the Nexus, this seems like a harmless enough question. He doesn't know much about twenty-first century New Year's, of course.

"They do." And Hunter hopes that they do in this timeline. "I have seen it a couple of times. It is really quite amazing to see it in person."

"But you have to be willing to brave the crowds and the cold."

"And I usually celebrate important holidays with my friends, no matter what time of year it is. The most important thing to me is just being there with the people who matter most in my life."

Welp. Jim and his mother are definitely not making eye contact, focusing on the food on their plates instead. Good thing the food is legitimately tasty.

"That's a good outlook to have," Ruth agrees.

Hunter is going to take Jim's hand in his own for a moment. He knows the challenges of having an estranged family relationship.

"I didn't have the opportunity to celebrate many holidays growing up. So it is always interesting to me to learn about different holidays and traditions."

Jim appreciates the support, squeezing his hand a little in thanks.

"A curious mind is a virtue. We can't be good neighbors if we don't seek to understand each other," James agrees, looking around the table at the others. "It's one of the central foundations of the Federation, and Starfleet."

"Speaking of cultural exchange, if you want to take home any recipes, just ask," Ruth tells Hunter, a grandmotherly smile on her face.

"I would love to borrow a few of your recipes." Hunter smiled.

"I can't imagine how exciting it must be, to be able to explore the galaxy, meet new races, new cultures. And get to experience new traditions."

"Not called to the Starfleet lifestyle, eh?" James says knowingly. "I imagine you see all sorts of folks in New York, even without leaving the planet."

Whether or not Hunter's New York has any aliens living there, it sounds accurate enough, a hodgepodge of Earth cultures of all sorts, and that's not even counting the even wider variety of people in the Nexus.

"I do get to see a lot of different people. It keeps me busy, since I mostly specialize in portrait work."

"Well we're glad you had the time to spend the evening with us," Ruth says.

Winona and Jim have both been somewhat quiet thus far, though in Jim's case it's more because he's focusing on the meal than because he doesn't want to talk, as well as seeing how well Hunter is getting along with his grandparents. So far, so good. "Got any thoughts on the food?" he asks, curious to see whether Hunter's going to have any favorites.

"Everything is really delicious. Except for when Verity comes and visits me, I don't get a chance to get any home-cooking like this."

"I won't be able to choose my favorite dish..." He nudges Jim's shoulder.

"I love the bread especially. Something about the smell of fresh bread... it is reassuring in a way."

"A meal is hardly a meal without bread," Ruth agrees enthusiastically. "It's one of the oldest things mankind ever learned to make. These days, it's easier to buy or synthesize it, but I like making it by hand when I can. It's what our ancestors did, and it helps me appreciate the work they put into feeding their families."

"That is one recipe I definitely would get a lot of use from. There is something quite soothing about making your own bread."

"Just working with the dough..."

"But I feel the same way when I work with clay."

Jim's feelings about breadmaking are... less than straightforward, to say the least. Wheat was the first of the crops to fail, back on Tarsus, and he can never entirely forget that. But he also appreciates the completed product for what it is, a symbol of sustenance, among other things.

"I've had some of Hunter's cooking before," he says instead, as he serves himself another helping of latkes and leeks. "He'll do the recipe justice. Although from what I've heard, maybe Verity would want it too?" he asks, glancing over to Hunter.

"Who's Verity?" Winona asks, frowning slightly. She doesn't recall her son mentioning that name before, but Hunter had mentioned her earlier today.

"Mutual friend," Jim answers. "I met her in the same marketplace where I ran into Hunter."

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