“I mean it, Pessie. You don’t have a nursing baby now. It’s the perfect time. You’ll send me the kids and go take care of Hindy’s skin the real way. There’s no choice.”

Pessie pictured herself wheeling a suitcase through an airport terminal, settling down for a long, relaxing flight. It sounded like a dream. Forget Hindy, when was the last time she’d flown anywhere?

Her mother was cute. Totally unrealistic, but cute.

“I’ll think about it,” Pessie said. And to make it sound like she really would, she added, “I’ll discuss it with Yochi.”

“Good. And remember to ask him about the Seder, I need an answer.”

Maybe… maybe it had been a mistake to decline the evaluation.

“Miri,” Deena said urgently. “Miri, look at me.”

Miri was sitting in her beanbag, thumb in her mouth. She didn’t turn her head. Deena clenched her fists.

“Miri, we invited Naomi to play. Why aren’t you playing with her?”

“Ahdonwannoo,” Miri mumbled, thumb still in her mouth.

But you have to.

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.

“Playmobil?” Deena suggested. “Show her your new hospital set! You’ll have such a good time!”

“Ahdonwannoo!” Miri repeated angrily. Her fingers were running over the tag of her blankie, fast and furious.

“Well, you have to, Miri. You have a friend over, and she’s waiting to play with you.”

Miri shrugged.

The door creaked open. Naomi peeked in, staring curiously at Miri.

“Come, Naomi,” Deena said. “Miri will come play with you soon.” She nodded in Miri’s direction. “We’re going to play with Nechama meanwhile.”

Miri ignored them. Deena left the room, Naomi trailing behind her hesitantly.

Nechama was playing with her dollhouse in the playroom. “Nechama, Naomi wants to play with you, okay, sweetie? Naomi? Do you want to play?”

She shook her head.

Okaaaaay.

“Uh… so maybe you want to read a book? Here, look, we have tons of books.”

Naomi shook her head again.

“So, what do you want to do?”

“I want to play with Miri,” she whispered.

No kidding. “Okay, so Miri will come play in a few minutes. You can — um — you can have a snack meanwhile, okay?”

They headed to the kitchen. Deena opened the pantry and let the kid choose a treat. She chose the fidget spinner candy Deena had hidden with the intention of tossing when her kids weren’t looking. Would Naomi’s mother kill her?

Now what?

She returned to Miri’s room. Miri was flipping through a book. “Miri?”

No answer.

“Miri, Naomi is waiting for you.”

Shrug.

Well. So much for her grand idea. She’d totally be able to convince Morah Shiffy that Miri was doing fine like this.

Deena walked down the hallway to her studio. Naomi followed her, licking her candy. Well, she had work to do. If the kid wanted to hang around, that was her choice.

She powered on her tablet and went on Instagram. Her post was ready. She reread it carefully

What do you do if you’re left with a full box of ice cream cones a week before Pesach? Make ice cream s’mores with your kids! #icecreamparty #smores #kidsactivity #getridofchometz

A pack of lies. She’d bought the cones with this post in mind, made the s’mores when her kids were in school and got them to smile for a picture with an intentional baking mess in the background.

But if she could inspire people, why not?

Deena leaned her elbow on her desk — and recoiled. The fidget spinner, yuck. Naomi had put it down on the desk, and now it clung to Deena’s sweater.

That was it. She couldn’t work this way. “Do you want to go home?”

A nod.

Great. Just great. Her mother had barely dropped her off half an hour earlier, happy to have her off her hands on this Erev Pesach Sunday. She was not going to like this. Too bad.

After calling Naomi’s mother to make sure she was home, Deena got everyone — including a protesting Miri — into the car and drove over to Naomi’s house. As soon as they returned home, Miri exploded. “I’m bored!”

“Well, you just had a friend over and didn’t want to play with her. I can’t help you now.”

“But I’m bored!”

“So go play!”

“With who?”

“Nechama?”

“She’s a baby!”

Before Deena could figure out what to say next, Nechama trailed into the kitchen, dragging the new Playmobil hospital set.

Miri pounced. “That’s mine! I don’t let you touch it!” She grabbed the set away and shoved Nechama onto the floor.

Nechama burst out crying.

“Miri!” Deena roared. “What was that all about? We do not yell at people and we do not push! What’s wrong with you today?”

Nechama was bawling. Miri stood stiffly, glaring, her arms wrapped tightly around the hospital set.

“I’m going to…” Deena’s breath came quick. Don’t discipline out of anger. “You’re going to be punished. I need to…” Think. How do you punish a six-year-old?

You say “I’m going to call Tatty,” that’s what you do.

She needed to escape. She needed to calm down.

“Go to your room,” Deena hissed.

Deena followed Miri down the hallway, watched her collapse into her beanbag, sulking. Deena closed the door and then went to her office. Her pulse throbbed. Where was she going wrong with this girl?

Without focusing, she typed her passcode into her tablet and tapped on Instagram.

The ice cream cones post — here the responses came.

There was also a DM. @ruthie-l: You are unreal, @nutsandbasil! Total super-single-mom! I’m in awe, teach me how you do it!

Deena clenched her teeth and pushed the tablet away.

to be continued…

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 745)