“Spilled,” he said shortly.

He figured it wasn’t the best time to announce that his parents were moving next door. Or 15 minutes’ walking distance — same thing.

Estee got down and started helping him pick the kernels off the floor.

They didn’t speak, just silently and efficiently worked together until the rug was clean.

“Nechaaaaama! Look here, cutie! Look here!”

“Love that, don’t move, don’t mo— oh, okay.”

“Sit down, cutie, ’kay? Just sit. No, sit.”

Estee was exhausted. Physically, mentally, emotionally. She hadn’t even known her hands could get tired, but she was actually tempted to drop her camera on the ground and then lie down next to it.

Tammy, on the other hand, was full of energy. “Estee! These are stunning! You’re amazing. Nechama, come back! Yehoshua, don’t touch that! Rifky, where are you going, don’t eat that.”

She really needed everyone to stop talking.

“Okay, one last family shot, all together. Great, great, love it. Now link hands. Perfect… Take one step forward. Yaaaaas, exactly.”

She hated the sound of her own voice, she decided. If she had to call out one more command, she was going to lose it. But thankfully, time was up.

“Tammy, your kids are beyond. I’m going to upload these and then send you your gallery so you can choose which ones you want me to edit. ’Kay? Have a great rest of your day!”

She walked away so fast, she was practically running.

Bed, bed, bed, she needed a bed, ASAP.

By the time Yonah arrived home for lunch, she was half asleep. She groggily told him about her morning, trying not be overly dramatic but also to convey how utterly done she was.

Somehow, he got it.

He clucked and tsked in all the right places, then shut the lights so she could fall back asleep. By the time she woke up again, the clock said 5 p.m. Wow, she really had tired herself out.

Someone knocked and the door creaked open. Yonah stood there, contraband in hand.

“You got me food?” she said, hand to her heart. “You are seriously the best. I think I’ll marry you.”

Yonah pumped the air. “Finally!”

They laughed. Estee opened the paper bag. “Cheese Danish? Yessss. And an iced latte. It’s like you read my mind.”

“Or,” Yonah grinned, “I’ve just eaten breakfast with you more than once.”

They laughed, but Estee was trying to figure out why Yonah wasn’t mad anymore about the mother-in-law fiasco.

Was it because she wasn’t feeling well?

Also, why was he acting like it was normal for him to be home in the middle of the day? What about second seder? Hellooo?

She rotated the cricks out of her neck and inserted her memory card into the computer. She finally felt recuperated enough to look at her shots. Oh, some of them were gorgeous. Although she kind of wished that Tammy had told her about the birthmark Shani, her eldest, had. It was a large brown spot covering half her forehead, and while Estee couldn’t care less, she had been kind of startled.

The forest by the lake had been the perfect location and the kids were really cute. She hummed while she uploaded the images, then sent them to Tammy. She really missed working with Tammy, but that’s life, right?

Tammy must have loved the shoot, because only two hours later, she sent back her 20 shots for editing.

“Good choices,” Estee said to herself in approval.

Tammy had chosen mostly family shots, a few of the siblings alone, a brothers only, then sisters only, and some singles of the baby.

Estee adjusted light, color, composition. It was fun work, photo editing, stimulating work. This was it, this was what she had been missing. Plus, she loved perfecting things, and this was such a tangible way to do that. She  needed to connect to her work, to do something that excited her.

She paused at a photo of Shani. She was a beautiful girl. Tammy should be able to appreciate that. Plus, she was giving Tammy a huge price break and in return, posting the pictures on her website. She was sure Tammy wouldn’t want Shani’s birthmarks splashed across the web page.

Click, click, click, and there — Shani, birthmark-free, smiled up at Estee from the screen.

To be continued…

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1023)