“I love Huckleberry Finn, and you know what, Huck gets such a bad rap. People can have fun sometimes for no reason,” Leah said after a moment.

“Behaving is overrated?” I suggested.

“Hundred percent.”

Yup, she was definitely my daughter. There was a lull. I stayed quiet for as long as I could handle the silence.

“How you doing?” I finally asked.

Leah shrugged. We both went quiet. Leah opened the Bananagrams bag, plunged her hand in, letting the tiles slide against her hand. I love that feeling too.

“Thanks for coming, Ma.”

I smiled at her.

“My doctor said it’s most probably a false positive, I don’t have any factors that would raise my risk.”

Told you so. But I sealed my lips.

“But it’s scary.”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Wanna play War?” Leah picked up the deck of cards.

I offered my hand to accept half the deck. “No deuces.”

Leah mock-scowled.

And so we played the endless game of no skill, waiting for the first hour to pass for Leah’s blood test.

“It’s been really weird,” Leah said 20 minutes into the game. By this point, only a triple war would get us excited. I waited for her to continue.

“Me and you,” she gestured. I knew what she meant, but I still waited. Quick and easy is not an asset here. But gosh, long pauses are so hard. “Like there are a bajillion thoughts in my head and how I feel about this kind of depends on the nanosecond, but I guess I never really imagined me and you having babies at the same time. So even if I think it through and decide I’m fine with it, suddenly I’m not, because it wasn’t supposed to be this way.”

“Yeah, I hear that.” Don’t say anything else, Chana. No jokes, only support.

“No, like really. I’ll be fine, and even think it’ll be cute and fun, and then I just get so mad. And then you’ll say something, really anything, and it’s all downhill.”

My smile was a knowing one. “I was just like that when I was expecting you.”

Leah gave me a sharp look. Wrong thing to say? Too late. I may as well finish my thought.

“I was so hormonal, happy one minute, bawling my eyes out the next, and screaming louder than a banshee the next. I felt so bad for Tatty. ‘Cuz like you said, there are these moments of sanity where I was thinking, ‘Mountain out of molehill! Mountain out of molehill!’ but I still couldn’t stop myself from crying.”

Leah’s face was half laugh, half cry.

“Exactly.”

We met each other’s eyes. I didn’t feel like I had to say more. She heard me hear her, I think. And I was here.

“Leah!” A nurse by the door called Leah, who stood up too fast. I winced. She looked so nervous. I stood, reached across, and squeezed her shoulder,

“I’ll be right here.”

Leah nodded and followed the nurse. I looked around the waiting room and settled on just relaxing, Leah should be back soon enough. Then my phone rang. Yehudis.

“Hello?” I kept my voice low.

“Hi, Rebbetzin, how are you?” Yehudis’s voice had her usual professional warmth, and we made small talk for a bit. What did she want?

“So I was thinking about the Shabbaton, and I realized it’s only appropriate that you address the shul.”

What, was she really going to let me speak on her big day? I guess she was worried that everyone would think it wasn’t “appropriate” if I didn’t. Good to feel wanted.

“I looked at the schedule and the only empty slot in the schedule is three thirty Shabbos day. Does that work for you?”

Three thirty? That’s smack in middle of the day, I’m usually napping then. And everyone else will also be sleeping.

“It doesn’t seem like there’s much flexibility either way.” I tried to sound innocent.

“You don’t have to speak if you don’t want to, of course.”

Oh, so it’s this or nothing. She wasn’t yielding an inch after all. Did her husband put her up to this?

I gripped the armrest. Remember, Chana, you can do better.

“That will be perfect. Thank you, Yehudis, for arranging everything.” I tried infusing warmth and enthusiasm into my voice, but wasn’t sure I was successful.

“Excellent. I’ll be in touch to discuss topics. I’ll be printing the schedule with the shiur titles.”

“Right.” Just another way to micromanage me.

We hung up. I drummed my fingers on my lap. That surge, that rage I had just shared with Leah, I felt it stirring. It hurts that I’m a forced afterthought. And it bothers me that it hurts. I never wanted this in the first place, so why do I care?

Leah exited a few minutes later. She wore a smile and held a slip of paper.

“158!” She fist-pumped the air.

“No idea what that means, but good news?”

“Yes, first test came back normal, daven that the next two are good too.”

I stood as she came back to our waiting post, and we hugged. It felt so right.

Some sagas do have a happily ever after. Now I needed to see how the rest of my dramas unfolded.

to be continued…

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 710)