“Last time you saw her, you were breaking out of a hospital room in the middle of the night”
What stood out most was the counters. They were a beautiful light wood, but that wasn’t what was causing Golda to run her hand up and down their surface. It was the sheer emptiness. She couldn’t remember her counters back in Boston ever being empty.
There was the coffee machine, of course, plus the microwave, the fruit bowl, the recipe box, the dish rack, plus whatever other paraphernalia ended up there over the course of the day.
But now, in her brand-new home, in Lakewood, New Jersey — she was repeating it to herself several times a day, hoping it would sink in — everything had a place. The coffee machine had its own shelf. The microwave had a garage cabinet. Her recipe box went into one of the empty cabinets. And she would buy a new fruit bowl and keep it on the lovely round kitchen table in the corner. Big enough for her, Dovid, and a visiting grandchild or two.
She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. She was exhausted, of course, that went without saying. But all the suitcases and boxes were stored in the third bedroom, and right now, she would enjoy the neatness, even if it was only temporary.
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