Rina always tried to show up to a performance an hour and a half before the show. She needed time to set up the stage, check and adjust the mics and sound system, review scenes onstage, warm up her voice, and take care of all the hundred details that no one else seemed to realize went into a performance. (She just loved those calls from organizations trying to convince her to perform at their event for free: “Oh, Mrs. Levitan, we’re sure you’d be thrilled to donate just a few hours of your time for such a worthy cause.” As if performing meant simply waltzing onstage without any rehearsals and belting out a winner.)

But sometimes, even the best of intentions couldn’t hold a candle to good old life, and there were times, like now, when she found herself flying out of the house a good hour later than she’d planned, and pleading with Waze to please, pretty please, show her a magic shortcut that would get her to Peakeston, wherever in the world that was, in half the time it was now estimating.

She clenched her teeth as her eyes flickered between the clock and the traffic. Why, of all days, had Huvy picked today to actually get together with a friend? Her daughter never got together with friends. Rina sometimes wondered if she even had friends. She could always rely on Huvy to be home — so much so, that she’d gotten into the habit of not telling her in advance when she needed her to babysit.

Okay, so it was a bad habit. A terrible habit. She would never do it again. But how could it be six o’clock already?

In the midst of Rina’s hysterics at home, Atara had brightly suggested that she could babysit. Rina had plucked her ponytail and said that she appreciated her good girl’s offer, but she wasn’t old enough yet. It was Huvy she needed, Huvy, Huvy, why wasn’t she here? Could Rina ask her to come home because she needed her urgently? Now, when she was finally at a friend’s house?

And then anger had surged, irrational anger fueled by the panicky knowledge that she had a show to put on in three hours, and she decided that if Huvy had chosen to live a reclusive life until now, had preferred to sit passively at home doing nothing instead of being actively involved in her class’s social life — just like her father! — well, then, Rina had a right to expect her to be home to babysit! She’d called Huvy up and asked her to please come home right away.

Huvy had done so without protest, which somehow irked Rina, even as she breathed in relief. Atara would’ve been kicking and screaming had Rina asked her to come home from a playdate to help in the house. Why didn’t Huvy? Was there anything in the world that would cause her oldest daughter to kick and scream?

Now it was 6:15. Rina, get a grip. These were foolish thoughts, and she had more pressing things to worry about. With yet another glance at the clock, at Waze, at the slow-moving cars ahead, she dialed Bayla’s number.

(Excerpted from Family First, Issue 593)