Over time, Pessie had come to recognize that functional was relative, and the Hersko clan didn’t suffer from the last-minute frenzied Shabbos prep
Pessie squatted in front of the small hotel room fridge. “This cream with the blue sticker,” she said to Hindy, holding up a small white jar, “must be refrigerated. I’m going to give Babi Hersko instructions, but I want you to know this as well. Alright?”
From her position on the bed, Hindy nodded.
“And here, I’m packing Dramamine in this pocket of your backpack. I hope you won’t need it, but you should have it with you, just in case. It’s a long, curvy road from Arad to the beach, so maybe ask Babi if you could sit in the front seat so hopefully you won’t get nauseous.”
Another nod. Pessie closed the refrigerator door and turned around. Hindy was lying on her stomach, head perched on her raised palms. Except for her strong tan, she looked peaked; not like a girl who’d just spent two weeks at the beach.
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