Force wouldn’t work, it never did. Gentle cajoling, bribery — anything. Just get out of that beanbag and play with your friend or I’ll lose it

Pessie was changing the linens when she noticed the bloodstains on Hindy’s pillow.

She stared at the pillowcase, then crumpled it up and tossed it on the floor. Her heart contracted. Poor girl. This psoriasis was a monster, attacking her daughter’s skin, resisting every cream and diet. She continued stripping the bed, gathered the pile of linen, and headed to the laundry room.

Her mother called as she was rubbing peroxide on the pillowcase.

“I need to know your Pesach plans. Which Seder are you coming to us?”

“Um, I’m not sure yet,” Pessie mumbled. I’m not sure if we’re coming at all.

“What do you mean? When are you going to have an answer? I need to know. Devoiry needs to know, her mother-in-law is waiting for an answer, it’s a whole chain. I can’t wait for the last minute.”

Pessie made a vague sound. Why did every conversation with her mother turn so awkward? Yochi felt uncomfortable around her father, she got it, but now his discomfort was making her uncomfortable around her mother.

“What was that?” her mother asked.

Pessie scrubbed at the stain. “I’m just… Hindy. Her psoriasis is driving me nuts.”

Her mother sighed sympathetically. “Oy, sheifelah.”

“Yes,” Pessie said. Then, in an attempt to make conversation unrelated to Yochi or their Pesach plans — and also because this was her mother, who else should she vent to? — she kept going. “My heart goes out to her. Besides the pain and the itching, she’s so sensitive about it. Her classmates tease her. It really looks bad.”

“That’s terrible! And she was so good on that diet, and you tried the avocado oil, right? What else is there to do? What does her doctor say?”

“I’m so done with doctors. I can paint my walls with all that hydrocortisone they prescribed. Not that it did anything.” She dumped the linen into the washing machine and reached for the Tide. “We’re looking into phototherapy now. People say they’ve seen amazing results.”

“What’s the point of phototherapy?”

“It’s like an artificial version of the Dead Sea. You expose the skin to ultraviolet lights in a controlled setting.”

“I know what it is. I’m asking what the point is. Why don’t you do this the natural way and just take her to Yam Hamelach?”

“Oh, sure, I wish. How exactly? I can’t take the entire family along. What would I do with the other three kids?”

“I’ll take them.”

“What?” Pessie laughed. “Ma! Please!”