“Not a new person, Nomes, an old person. This is who Yocheved really is, who she was before her life got so complicated”
I bite my tongue as I peel the avocado gently, trying not to bruise it in the process.
“Peeeerfection,” I exhale.
Which makes sense, considering this is the ninth one I’m peeling.
Sima looks over at me from the duck fry she’s sautéing for salad. “What was that, the last avocado? Thanks a mil, now can you do the peppers?”
I nod and grab a red pepper from the pile on the counter. Sima’s husband, Gershy, is making a siyum and Sima has been working on it all week. I’m helping with the poke bowl appetizers and Sima is pretending to be calm.
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