Aviva looks at the dominant mother figure, the child in the distance, feels something clench inside
Mom’s results had come in last week; the treatment hadn’t shrunk the tumor in her leg, but at least it hadn’t grown. The oncologist wants them to come in to discuss alternative treatment plans. She feels numb when she thinks about Mom’s illness; Yakov will take the lead in guiding Mom through these decisions, like he always does.
Her phone buzzes. “Hiya, Aviva. Dinner tonight?” It’s Racheli; it’s her day to cook again.
Her friends know that she spends Tuesday afternoons with Mom, but she doesn’t always stay for dinner.
“What are you making?” she asks, trying for lightness. “Actually, whatever it is, not tonight. Thanks for asking, Racheli.”
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