2019-11-22 - A New York State Of Mind

The trip from Washington to New York is a long damn flight (but, as Itzhak says, "not near so long as driving, lemme tell ya"). He arranged to offset their trip a little from Thanksgiving, for a variety of reasons, primary among them that Thanksgiving is the bottom-rung worst time to travel. Not that a couple-few days difference is a huge improvement. It's long and it's incredibly busy and there's a lot of frazzled people trying to get somewhere or other. Inevitably Itzhak gets a little frazzled too, trying not to growl at well-meaning busybodies or brisk airline workers or, God forbid, the TSA.

When he and Isolde finally get out of JFK, though? When Itzhak's rainbow-soled Converse hit the pavement of Manhattan, something about him changes. He lifts his head, his expression transforming subtly in the way a person's does when they come back home. The city is crowded and busy and smells kind of weird and there's cars and people and buildings and lights crammed into every available square inch--and Itzhak is grinning to himself.

Home is becoming Gray Harbor, may God have mercy on them all, but Itzhak's heart is still a New Yorker's.

His violin case slung over his back, his duffel bag in one hand, he takes Isolde's hand with the other. "C'mon, we'll get a cab to my ma's."

Isolde has never flown on a plane before. This knowledge didn't really hit her until they were on the plane. Not going through TSA, not even on the way to the airport. She was too excited, and too busy looking at all the things the airport had to offer! Occasionally Itzhak might feel a gentle touch against his mind, not invasive just a reminder that she was here and everything was good and they would be in New York soon! Relatively. On the plane, Isolde was a mix of excited and anxious and oh did her ears hurt. And she felt a little woozy but ultimately they made it to New York alive! Which was a good thing and she texted Alexander to let him know that they did, in fact, make it there.

It has been a long, long time since Isolde was in New York and she hadn't missed it, but Itzhak's shift in demeanor and his grinning puts the redhead at ease and she finds herself feeling a little excited again. Blue eyes flitting about at all the people and sights as she gives Itzhak's hand a squeeze and lets him lead her towards the cab hailing. "I'm excited to meet them! Will they like me?" A minor worry that had been lingering in the back of her mind. Always a worry - wondering if the family will like you. It was such a busy place, Manhattan. Isolde pressed just a little closer to Itzhak - definitely not wanting to get all lost and turned around. "How far away is your mom's?"

Itzhak squeezes Isolde's hand, kisses her temple. "They're gonna love ya." No doubt in his voice, no doubt in his mind. He is one hundred percent here for his family loving Isolde. One delicate fernlike fractal tendril (so much like the scars on his arm where Isolde electrocuted evil shards out of him) uncurls to gently twine into Isolde's mind, hanging on like a pea vine shootling.

"She don't live far," he tells her, while he's finding a cab out of the dozens filtering along in front of the airport. He does it with absent ease, guiding Isolde along, having her get in ahead of him. "Won't be long."

A grumpy Sikh man is the cabby. Itzhak tells him an address on the Lower East Side, and on the way, accidentally makes friends with him. They're chatting about their mothers by the time the cab pulls up by the curb of an apartment building. The cabby even smiles kindly at Isolde by this point and says to her, "Don't worry. You have a good man with a good family." Itzhak tips him generously.

The apartment building is more or less exactly the same as two dozen others lining the street, crammed against each other. It's red brick, five stories tall, weathered and old.

Isolde is put at ease some by Itzahk's reassurance and that sliver of his mind tangled with her own. She is quiet, but listening to the conversation with the cabby, unable to help a smile from forming as she watches the two men chat like they've known each other forever. When they pull up to his mother's house, Isolde flashes the man a bright smile. "I'm very lucky." She agreed and then climbed out of the cab. She takes Itzhak's hand again once they have their bags situated, looking up at the apartment building. "Which one is she in?" Her hand gives his a little squeeze again.

"Three-oh-six. There's an elevator, but it takes forever." Itzhak smiles back, kinda helplessly, his gray-green-brown hazel eyes skimming down Isolde, then back up. "Wow. Been a long damn time since I brought a girl home." He leans in to kiss her, murmurs, "This's gonna be great." Then, crow's-feet crinkling at her, he heads into the building.

Three stories up, and Itzhak doesn't bother with the elevator. The building is old and diffidently maintained; the wooden stairs creak and sigh like a sailing ship. Itzhak charges up them taking them two at a time with those long legs. The amount of baggage he's carrying only slows him down a little. (He actually arranged for a nearby Air B&B, but he couldn't stay away from his family one moment longer than necessary once they arrived.)

He knocks on the door of 306, calling through it, "'ey! We're here!" and the door flings open and Miriam, six years old, tackles him squealing.

"ITZIL ITZIL" and she sticks herself like Velcro to his leg.

Isolde chuckles, returning the kiss and nuzzling her nose briefly against his own. "Yeah. It will be." She agreed with another grin and then follows him up! No complaints about taking the stairs - a little cardio never killed anyone! Well...that was probably very untrue, but whatever. Isolde was cool with it! She's only a step or two behind him and rocking on her heels when he knocks on the door.

A startled gasp escapes her with Miriam darts out and tackles Isolde. The gasp trails into a laugh as those blue eyes study the little girl that she'd heard so much about. That they'd sent way too much candy to around Halloween time. That Itzhak most certainly adored. "Hello Miriam." She offered to the girl, still smiling. Then she shifted her gaze over towards the open door - to look inside to catch a glimpse of the interior and, likely, the other two women that resided in the house.

"Oof!" Itzhak laughs. "Jeez, you're gettin' big!" He stoops to scoop her up in his arms anyway--all that strength training he's been doing at Kelly's Gym is paying off.

Miriam wraps her arms around his neck and starts talking a mile a minute in Yiddish. Itzhak interrupts her to say, firmly, "Hey, Isolde don't speak Yiddish. That means we gotta talk English when she's around, okay? S'rude otherwise."

Miriam peeks at Isolde with big brown eyes. Her hair is rich dark brown. "Okay. I'm sorry." Then, shyly, she mashes her face against Itzhak's shoulder.

"My God, don't just stand there, come in!" says the little old birdish woman who comes hurrying up. She smiles at Isolde. "You must be Isolde. I'm Esther. Come in, dear, come in."

"Okay, okay," Itzhak is saying, half laughing, and manages to maneuver himself with baggage and niecelet and all through the door.

Then Naomi is slowly making her way to the door, too, from the long hallway. She's built along the same lines as Esther, a tiny and delicate person, made fragile by the pale translucence of her skin and the way her face is too thin and the dark circles around her eyes. But she's smiling too, looking at her brother holding her daughter. "Hi, Isolde. I'm Naomi." She holds out a cold hand to Isolde. "Mireleh, what do you say to Isolde for the nice Halloween candy she sent you?"

"THANK YOU," Miriam yells into Itzhak's shoulder.

"It's okay, I'm learning a little bit." Isolde mused, looking to the little girl again. She really was so adorable. Then her attention flitted to Esther, "Yes, it's nice to meet you! All of you. I've heard lots of good things." Isolde slipped inside the house, carefully setting her bag down near the door as she took in the feel and the smells of the apartment. It felt like a home, just because of the people in it.

Isolde took Naomi's cold hand into her warmer one, giving her a gentle handshake. She couldn't help but wonder if this was how Itzhak felt with her sometimes, because she was certainly feeling like if she even tried hugging this woman - Naomi would snap in half. There's a flicker of sympathy that flashes over her features but Isolde's smile remains. "I'm really glad to meet you Naomi." Once their hands are released, Isolde grinned a touch. "You're welcome, sweetheart." To Naomi, "She's adorable."

Naomi presses Isolde's hand in hers, beaming tiredly at her. "She's a handful, is what she is. I'm so glad to finally meet you. You must have the patience of a saint to put up with my brother." She's wearing a knit cap, and her face is weirdly bald--she has no eyebrows, or only the faintest wisps of them. Her eyelashes are thin, too.

"I HEARD THAT," Itzhak yells, but he's still grinning while trying to extricate himself from luggage and violin while holding onto his niece.

"I meant you to hear that," Naomi says, smiling secretively. "Please come in, Isolde, sit, you guys must be tired."

Esther is fussing at Itzhak about something or other, and he just laughs at her and swoops down to hug her. She puts her arms around him and Miriam and sighs. "Oh, meyn boychik, it's so good to see you."

"You too, Ma," Itzhak murmurs. Then he comes over to hug Naomi, too, and they both close their eyes as if savoring the moment. Itzhak kisses her knit cap. "Missed you, ya little brat." Then Esther shoos everyone deeper into the apartment.

The apartment is built along surprisingly small lines, almost a series of galleries more than rooms. But it's laid out quite well, more so than the randomly-large houses on the West Coast. It has polished old wooden floors, white walls, and family pictures on the walls. Little tables are parked next to comfortable armchairs, each bearing its lace doily. "Let me bring you something to drink," Esther says, continuing to fuss, even over Itzhak protesting, "Ma, c'mon, don't."

"Only because he has the patience to put up with me." Isolde quips back to Naomi with a wink. Glancing over to Itzhak as he called Naomi out.

So many emotions flitted through Isolde as she watched Itzhak interacting with his family. She felt a tiny tear or two escape but quickly - and hopefully subtly - wiped them away with her pinkie as they moved deeper into the apartment. It was a curious layout, but not one Isolde disliked. It was giving her some ideas even! For her little A Frame that would be waiting when they got back. Something she made a note to tell Itzhak about later tonight or some time tomorrow.

The pictures get studied as Isolde's hand either finds Itzhak's if he has a free one or her fingers will hook into one his belt loops. "You have a beautiful home Esther." She focuses on the older woman again. A soft little chuckle as Itzhak fussed at his mother fussing. "She misses you! Let her do what she wants." Isolde offered up a little smile. She still felt a touch awkward but things seemed to be off to a good start more or less.

"Thank you, sweetie. That's right, listen to your lovely girl, boychik, let your mother do what she wants. Dinner is just about ready, too." Esther winks at Isolde. "And after I can show her the pictures of you when you were a petzeleh."

"Okay, that's it, I'm leaving," Itzhak announces, making Naomi laugh. He doesn't want to give up holding Miriam and she seems okay with this, hanging out in his arms, her head with its rich brown waves resting on his shoulder.

"I like that one," Naomi tells Isolde, pointing at one of the photos on the wall. It's Itzhak when he must have been a mid-teen, his violin on his shoulder, playing with a ferocious frown of concentration. He was almost as tall as he is now, and far skinnier; most of him is nose and enormous hands. "He filled out some."

"Naomi," Itzhak grumbles. He doesn't sit, although Naomi does, looking tired. Instead he waltzes Miriam around the living room while she squeals in glee.

Naomi ignores him with the ease of long practice. "So tell me all about yourself!" she says to Isolde, eagerly leaning towards her.

Isolde slipped out her phone as she settled in the seat nearest to Naomi, snapping a quick picture of Itzhak and Miriam. Then the phone is slipped away and the redhead fully turned her attention to the other woman. Flashing a bit of a grin. "It's a good picture." A soft chuckle to follow and then a little sigh.

"Well, not much to tell. Well. Lots to tell really, just don't know where to start." And of course Isolde didn't want Naomi to actually see or sense her crazy. Relaxing a bit into the seat. "I was born in Portland. In Oregon. But I left when I was 16 because I was having some issues." To put it mildly. "I traveled a lot, seen lots of things, met lots of people. In country. Not out of. Also I love frogs. Tree frogs! They're so cute and tiny." She lifted her hand to show the frog charm bracelet on her wrist. "My friend Alexander made this for me. Itzhak got me this one." Pointing to one of the tiny little charms.

"I am also getting good at baking cookies but I can't do much else yet. What about you? Itzhak has told me some, but it's always better to hear from the source."

Itzhak finally sets Miriam down, telling her, "I gotta help ya bubbe," and vanishes to the little galley kitchen (where he promptly gets into an argument with Esther over whether he's helping or not). Miriam climbs up on the couch next to Naomi and snuggles into her side. Naomi puts her arm around her, listening to Isolde with the same intensity that Itzhak has.

"That sounds like you've had an interesting life," she says, and like Itzhak, she means it. "Hard, sometimes, but interesting." She leans over to check that Itzhak's occupied, and then murmurs, "Send me that picture." She flashes her a grin, and in a normal tone, goes on, "I'm an astronomer. I mostly do teaching these days...well," she amends, "I used to. I don't know what I'll be doing now." Naomi hikes her faint, wispy eyebrows in a resigned Jewish shrug. Why she's out of a career is pretty obvious. She's a cancer patient.

Then she leans in to admire Isolde's frog bracelet. The charm Itzhak gave Isolde is a tiny frog on a tiny lily pad. "That is so cute. He really likes you," she says quietly.

Isolde smiles a bit more as Miriam snuggles up to Naomi and she nods emphatically, taking out her phone and setting up a new text. "Just give me your number!" Also spoken softly. Once that is squared away and the adorable picture sent off, Isolde tucks her phone away again. "Hard most of the time, but it has all led me to here. And," She flicks a glance towards the kitchen then back to Naomi. "I am very happy that it has."

She listens closely as Naomi talks a bit about the astronomy. "I think that's so neat. Looking at the star and planets. I'll bet you know lots about them! You could write a book!" Isolde pondered on that moment. "Or...something. Maybe. I'm not sure." She gives a little bit of a grin though it faltered just a touch. "If you don't mind. Me asking. How long have you been....sick?" She seems a bit hesitant to say the word because of Miriam but, ultimately, can't think of any other word to say.

"I like him a lot too. " Isolde fiddles with the charm briefly and then settles her hands back in her lap. Her brow furrowed a moment and she lowered her voice a touch further. "...I might...ask him. If he wants...to move in with me...maybe."

"I'm a planetary astronomer," Naomi says, pleased that Isolde is so eager. "I could write a book, I've been thinking about it. Maybe a children's book, about exoplanets. Those are planets outside of our solar system." She explains the term, just in case. Then she gets that resigned expression again, looking down at Miriam, who abruptly gets bored and squirms away to dig some Lincoln logs out of a soft basket. "I was diagnosed early this year," she says, casually, because she's done a lot of talking about it by this point. "A few months before Itzil moved out to Washington. I was....pretty angry with him, but he'll do what he feels like. He always has." Her eyes are lovely brown when she looks at Isolde, seriously. "You should know that about him by now. There's no turning him aside from what he's decided to do. I'm..." she hesitates, glancing at the kitchen again, lowering her voice. "I don't know if he'd say yes to that. He's always needed space, and he gets nasty if he doesn't have it."

"Exoplanets." Isolde repeated. "I would read it! Sounds neat. Are there lots of planets outside our solar system?" She nods a bit as Naomi talks about her diagnosis. "Yeah...I know." She agreed. "I don't want to change him. Or make him do things he doesn't want to do." She licks her lips a moment, maybe looking a little resigned herself. However, she smiles again. "But the offer is there...if he ever wants to get out of Stephanie's basement." She pushes a hand through her hair and glances to the kitchen again. "But I understand if he doesn't want to. I'll just be happy to have my own place and that he could come over there instead of me having to go to his place all the time. Cause Alexander only had his bedroom. So I've been sleeping on the couch."

"I love my brother," Naomi says, very quiet and serious, looking Isolde in the eyes. "And he is a difficult man. Nobody knows that more than Ma and I." Then, relaxing a little, she taps Isolde's knee, light. "You've made it this far with him. That says a lot for you. ...You've been sleeping on a couch? Oh my God, you poor thing." And she relaxes more, relieved that Isolde took her warning about Itzhak well. Then she outright laughs. "A basement? He told us he was renting a room."

From the kitchen, Esther suddenly shouts. "Itzhak Immanuel Rosencrantz, what did you do to your arm?"

"Uh," Itzhak's voice says, in that 'busted' tone. "Electrical accident."

Naomi goes "oohh," and gets up to see what they're yelling about now. Itzhak had pushed up the long sleeve of his shirt without thinking, to do something in the kitchen, and exposed his scar.

"A couch is better than where I was sleeping before." Isolde assured Naomi with a smile. "I will let you know how the asking him goes." She looked amused at the mention of Itzhak renting a room. "He's got the whole basement. Not that it's a big basement of course. But it has a little kitchen and everything in it." She chuckled - though her attention quickly shifted towards the kitchen. Uh oh.

She gets up when Naomi does, following her towards the kitchen. There's a bit of an inward wince when she sees the scar. Electrical accident indeed. She remains quiet for the moment though. Waiting to see if that answer will be accepted or if Isolde might have to help corroborate a made up story.

Itzhak is shoving his sleeve back down to hide the Lictenberg figure on his arm. Esther is staring at him with her eyes wide in horror. "Electrical accident? Itzil!"

"Ma, don't," Itzhak says, tension growing in his voice. "It's fine. Okay? It's FINE."

Miriam, like all small children, has appeared in the middle of the action, looking between the adults, trying to figure out if she should cry or not. Naomi says quietly, "Ma. He says it's fine," and takes her hand. She glances at Isolde, gathering her in with a look. "Is dinner ready? We're starving."

Isolde nodded emphatically in agreement, "He's really okay Esther." Her voice soft, summoning up a smile. "One of those things that looks worse than it was. He didn't want you to worry is all." Then follows Naomi's lead, "Yes it all smells so good. And Itzhak's been bragging. About your cooking. Ever since we met. I can't wait to try it." She shifts to move closer to Itzhak, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. She was here, his family was here. Everything was fine.

Gratefully Itzhak sets his hand over Isolde's, glancing down at her. Yeah, he needed her right then, and she appeared.

"That is your bow arm, boychik," Esther says, her tone still distressed, but she's reining it in. "Yes, all right. Take things to the table, please."

"It's fine, Ma. It really does look worse than it is." Itzhak leans over to kiss Esther on her fluffy grey curls. "Nothing wrong with my playing. I'll prove it to ya later."

Esther waves him off, scowling. He picks up the dish of brisket and totes it over to the dining table. Naomi doesn't do anything as obvious as sigh in relief, but something subtle unknots in her, and she gives Miriam the basket of rolls so she can help. Miriam holds up the basket to Isolde, announces, "I'm HELPING," and scurries off.

Isolde gave Itzhak a smile and then released him so he could get the brisket. She gave Miriam a bright smile. "You're a very good helper." She agreed, chuckling softly as the girl scurried off towards the table. Well that was one minor hurdle jumped over! If there was anything else that needed brought to the table she would help deliver it. Eyeing the spread once it was all laid out, she took a seat beside Itzhak. "This looks amazing." Smiling again, relaxing a touch further as she brushed her knuckles lightly against Itzhak's. "Thank you again," Looking to Esther and Naomi, "For letting me come and meet you."

Brisket, aka Jewish pot roast, is for dinner. It's packed with gravy and vegetables, savory and rich. Salad and rolls of challah round out the meal. Itzhak hitches a lopsided, weary little smile at Isolde as she comes and helps. He dips his head to murmur to her, "Thanks, frosheleh," as they get it done. He's clearly tired and frayed around the edges.

As everybody is seated, Esther looks at Itzhak. "Would you please say Hamotzi, Itzil?"

Itzhak gets a look in his eye like he's going to refuse, and then he's going to argue, and then--he glances at Isolde, and that look gentles. "Yeah." He grabs the bread basket, lifts it up between his hands, and sings.

"Barukh ata Adonai Eloheinu, melekh ha'olam, hamotzi lehem min ha'aretz. Amen."

"Amen," Miriam and Naomi and Esther chorus.

Itzhak tears a piece of a soft, fluffy challah roll, sprinkles it with salt, and eats it. Then he passes the basket to Isolde. "Take one, eat a bit."

"Of course." Isolde murmurs back to him. A touch of concern fleeting over her features but she doesn't say anything further. Time and place. Perhaps it was a good thing that they were staying at an Air BnB and not here. Space. Like Naomi had mentioned.

She always enjoys listening to Itzhak sing and this is no different. Just the few notes it is. She even adds in her own Amen just a beat behind the women. She picks a roll out of the basket and passes it on. "I don't think I've had this kind of bread before." She pondered . Isolde breaks off a piece, trying it without anything on it and sighed contently. The sure sigh of good food! And it was just the side dish!

Isolde looked towards Miriam now, smiling. "What's your favorite food Miriam?"

The challah is tender and sweet, a queen among breads. This is homemade, too. It's transcendent. Even Itzhak's mood lightens when he tastes it. The other women follow suit, taking a roll and tearing a piece off and eating it. Then the ritual is done and Itzhak murmurs to Isolde, "Eat," with a more relaxed smile for her. He eats too. Someone might be hangry.

"Oh no, now you've done it," Naomi says in amusement, as Miriam says brightly, "Sushi! I can only have the cooked kinds though. Mom says I'm not big enough to eat raw fish yet."

"Bacteria load," Naomi explains to Isolde.

"So my favorite is tempura roll," Miriam goes on, swinging her legs and forking up brisket. From being intensely bashful and shy to getting chatty, she really IS related to Itzhak. "Then my second favorite is California roll. Then my third favorite is lox sushi."

And Hangry is the worst kind! Isolde takes a bite of brisket as she listens to Miriam list off all her favorite types of sushi. The brisket was so good! She made a happy little noise again as she refocused on the little girl. Eyes widening, and not even the exaggerated kind that adults might do, but genuine surprise. "Sushi huh? I've never had sushi before." She chuckles. "Maybe we can get some while we're visiting." Sushi was not something she thought of as a children's food. Let alone a favorite one. So it was interesting to hear.

Another few bites of food were taken. "This is amazing."

"You never had sushi?" Itzhak says, surprised. "Yeah we'll get some." He's actually pleased he gets to introduce Isolde to sushi.

"Thank you," Esther says to Isolde, also pleased. "I've been making this a long time now."

Dinner goes on uneventfully and Itzhak behaves himself, even telling the cute story of how he fixed Alexander's door and that's how he and Isolde met. Esther and Naomi are both charmed by that! Miriam explains what she learned about dinosaurs, which are the coolest animals ever. Did you know Microraptor had four wings?

Naomi doesn't eat that much. She took little and didn't finish it. Itzhak, of course, always eats a lot. Esther cooked with his appetite in mind.

After dinner, Itzhak and Naomi set to washing dishes and half chatting, half bickering in the kitchen. Esther pours Isolde and herself some tea, while Miriam gets sleepy on the couch.

"It's been lovely to have you over, Isolde." Esther sips her tea. "I'm glad my son has found someone like you."

"Never ever." Isolde confirmed with a chuckle.

Dinosaurs are totally cool and Isolde had never heard of a microraptor before. Her favorites were Long Necks, like from Little Foot. Brontosauruses. She enjoys dinner and the chatting. She offers to help with the dishes, but of course there was the insistence that she was a guest and she would not do dishes! So Isolde happily settled in with Esther. Maybe a touch nervous because this was Itzhak's mother after all but the nerves were very minor.

"It has been very nice." Isolde agreed, carefully sipping her tea. "I'm happy to finally meet you all. I'm glad I found Itzhak too but," She paused a beat. "What do you mean? Someone like me?" She asked merely curious.

Esther's eyes are dark, almost black. She studies Isolde seriously. "A kind person, who perhaps knows that life is tough, and yet that it is worth the living. Who perhaps has gone through some hard things herself, and understands what it's like." Then she smiles, and pats Isolde's hand. "And yet who did not lose herself. That's the person I mean."

Isolde looked down to her hand as Esther touched it and then up to the woman again. A little smile on her features again. "I am happy to hear that. Life is not easy but it's better to have someone to get through it with." She took another sip of her tea. "I care about Itzhak very much. I'm glad I can be there for him and him there for me."

"I'm glad too," Esther says, softly.

Naomi comes around the corner from the kitchen, looking exhausted. "I'm sorry to duck out on you girls, but I'm beat." She looks beat, too, her eyes sunken in dark circles. She considers Miriam, who's curled up asleep.

"Don't worry about Mireleh," Esther tells her. "Go on."

Naomi nods and makes her way down the hallway deeper into the apartment. Itzhak's next to come out, drying his hands absently on the hips of his jeans. "You behavin' yourself, Ma?" He leans over to kiss Isolde on the forehead. "Ready to head to the room?"

"Rest well Naomi." Isolde offered the woman up a gentle smile as she retreated. She leans into Itzhak's kiss lightly, "She's been telling me all kinds of baby Itzhak stories." Isolde teased with a giggle. Her arm slipped around his waist so she could give him a squeeze and her head rested against his side. "I'm ready whenever you are. It's been a good day. A good start to our trip." Looking up at him and then back to Esther and the sleeping Miriam.

"Yeah, was it the one about how I took apart the grandfather clock our family brought over from the Old Country?" Itzhak says with that lopsided smile.

Esther closes her eyes in rueful acknowledgement. "Oh, the tsuris that gave your poor grandmother."

Itzhak laughs. "I put it back together again! Mostly." He holds his hand to Isolde to help her up. "It's been a good day. We're gonna get going, Ma. See you tomorrow."

Farewells said, he hoists the luggage again and makes his way out with Isolde. But he only goes as far as the stairwell, and drops his duffel and leans against the wall, sighing. "Oy vey, I was so frickin' nervous."

Isolde chuckles softly at the story, gathering up her bag again as well when Itzhak does and then it's time to leave! She follows him out, smiling a bit as she sets her duffel back down again and settles in front of him.

"Why nervous? Well...besides the scar incident." She rests her hands on his sides and looked towards his arm a moment. Then back up to him. "I was nervous too. If that helps. But they are all very nice. I like your family a lot. Miriam is adorable."

Itzhak winds those long arms around Isolde, hugging her to him, bowing his head to nuzzle into her hair. He rocks her back and forth, gently, comforting himself a lot more than he's comforting her.

"Just everything," he murmurs. "Just...every damn thing. I disappointed them a lot, you know? A. Lot." His heart is going fast in his big ribcage. "Nothin' but a problem kid from the day I was born."

Isolde nuzzled against him in return, giving him a squeeze. She relaxed into him, letting him rock her. Perfectly content to stay like this until such time when he was ready to continue on.

"They were very happy to see you. " Isolde murmured. "The past...it's hard. But not defining. " Her hand slid up to rest over his racing heart. "It went well. Really well. And the rest of the trip will too."