It does seem that Libby, my older, wiser sister, is always right

S

han is texting me. I’ve taken to randomly clomping downstairs to check my phone on its perch on the kitchen counter. Not much action: A missed call from Debbi, one class chain call about ordering pizza for Rosh Chodesh, a text goodnight from Zeesy from last night, and now, a text from Shan…

Hey you.

Hmmm, mysterious.

Hey you too, I type back.

Which I immediately regret, because that’s super nerdy. Why do I do this?

Her LOL is instantaneous.

How’s it going down there?

I lean on the counter. Down there? Where is she living, the North Pole?

Greeeeeat. I hesitate only a moment before tapping out Baruch Hashem.

Why’d I hesitate? I hate that.

She sends back a blue heart. What does that even mean?

Call me.

I tap out Yessir, Captain, Sir, and then call her.