“There is no rachmanus in my heart for girls who try to change the subject and evade the issue”
“First, you have to tell Ima.”
“No, I dote.” Chaya sniffles and wipes her nose. She groans. “I just can’t, Nechami. I’m feeling awful.”
Nechami holds the cordless phone between her ear and her shoulder and keeps one hand on the mouse, hovering mindlessly over the list of files. She’d planned to get some work done this morning, but so much for her plans. With her mind pulled every which way, she selects “polygons.” She pulls the mouse along, aimlessly sketching pyramids, cylinders, and cones on the black background.
“Chaya, that is a precondition for any help or advice from me on this subject.”
“What is this precondition, exactly?”
“That you get out of bed and say to Ima, ‘It’s true that I caught the flu because I ran out in the rain last night, and then I stood on the corner of Rechov Baharan for 20 minutes arguing with my sister instead of taking her wise advice, but the real truth is—’ ”
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