Ella giggles, takes an apple, and then asks, too casually, “Anyone know if Tzippy’s coming?”

E

rev Pesach is not the greatest time for hosting.

Mimi sighs, closes the fridge, then opens it again and grabs a few apples. There’s a bag of potato chips somewhere as well, they’ll all be sick of those before the week is out, but it’s something.

It will have to do.

Mimi tries not to think about the last time she hosted her friends. Back then, she’d invited them hoping Shoshana would open up to the others, an attempt that failed spectacularly. This time…

On impulse, she grabs the phone and dials Tzippy. The number is busy. Figures.

“What are you doing?” Kayla asks, straddling the top of the stairs and eyeing the food in Mimi’s hands like it’s dangerous.

“It’s not chometz,” Mimi tells her.

“I didn’t say it was,” Kayla says, wrinkling her brow, but she moves out the way.

Ella and Shoshana arrive together. They settle on Mimi’s carpet, Shoshana flipping through the scrapbook Mimi’s started putting together.

“Hey, when is this picture from?” she asks, frowning at a selfie of the two of them. “I look horrible.”

Ella giggles, takes an apple, and then asks, too casually, “Anyone know if Tzippy’s coming?”