I’
m struggling my slow way through that night’s math homework, when the thought bursts through my consciousness. I need Shiri to help me. I drop my pencil.
I’d avoided all thoughts of Shiri since midwinter vacation. After spending the week following my trip to Brownsfeld flinching every time my phone beeped, I’d given up on Shiri. I’d never realized how good I was at closing the door firmly on my feelings. Apparently, I am an expert.
But tonight, perhaps due to my exhaustion over wedding preparations — we’d held an invitation-stuffing party last night — or maybe it’s just my frustration over math, suddenly the door is wide open and my memories of Shiri are flooding back in.
Rus has been reaching out ever since the l’chayim, and I’ve even received an RSVP from her for the wedding. Obviously, her whole family is coming. But it’s been radio silence from the Third Bear.
