Maybe there’s something to be said for the friends thing, after all. Even if I have around a million years more life experience
“Good morning!”
Aunt Chana is far too bright and cheery for eight a.m. And I’ve spent the night tossing and turning, worrying why I couldn’t get through to Ima.
“Your mother left you a message,” Aunt Chana says, and presses play on her phone.
A message? From Ima? Whew! Relief courses through me like an injection of life.
“Hi, precious.” Ima’s voice fills the kitchen. I’m embarrassed, suddenly aware of my cousins all listening in. Can’t I listen in private? But Ima’s still talking: “What’s up? I see you tried to call. The grids are down, it’s been hard to get service. But they seem to be working better now, so maybe give me a call before school? Love you, honey.”
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