“So Mama, we got to talking with Marjorie on the subway,” he began, “and would you believe she doesn’t have a place for the Sedorim?”
IF baking without flour was strange, if searching for crumbs in children’s pockets was weird, things in the Levine house now seemed to be just plain crazy.
First, there was Ruchele. The little girl walked into the kitchen holding a bright-red plastic bucket and a green shovel. “It’s for Pesach,” she confided to Marjorie, who was putting the final touches on some interestingly shaped coconut confections called macaroons.
What now? she thought. Do these people dump the bread into buckets?
Mutty wandered in, looking for a cup of coffee. Moments later Artie followed him, hugging a large brown bag to his chest. “I got the stuff, Mut,” he said.
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