“Naomi? Trust me. Yocheved knows there’s something wrong with Levi. I can promise you that”

I

kick my foot out; little bubbles cascade outward. I’m surprised the pool is empty, although I guess everyone is down by the lake or at the basketball courts.

Ma and the girls are washing up for lunch but I needed some space.

Yaeli drops next to me out of nowhere; she kicks next to me. Silently we watch the water.

“Visiting Day is overrated,” I say grumpily.

She gives me a look.

“Okay, sorry, it’s probably really annoying not to have visitors.”

She shrugs. “It’s fine. A bunch of us had breakfast with Hila, which was really good, and now they’re taking us bowling.”

I poke her. “Wanna switch places?”

She laughs and tilts her face up to the sun. “Yeah, you wish. Come on, it’s that bad?”

I shrug and shove sweaty baby hairs off my forehead. “It’s just complicated.”

She looks at me sideways. “Ramat Beit Shemesh is pretty American, you know? Like the Brooklyn of Israel. But ever since I came to camp, I see how Israeli I really am.”

She seems pretty American to me, but I’m curious to know more.

“Like how?”

She purses her lips. “Like Americans seem to make things a bit more complicated than they need to be.”

I spot Debbi and her mom from across the basketball court. They come over to join our picnic table; Zeesy and her aunts from Brooklyn are one table over. I ignore the fact that everyone else’s family members are wearing super trendy outfits, and Ma is wearing what she probably wore when she visited Libby on Visiting Day.

We manage to escape our families and huddle by the bleachers.

“My aunts are legit bored,” Zeesy whispers. “I feel like I need to entertain them or something but like hi, I’m not in charge.”

Debbi sighs and rubs her nose. “Yeah, and my mother keeps talking about how Bayla has a fever at home. It’s like, if you want to be home so badly, just leave. I can’t handle the guilt.”

I roll my eyes. Some people have actual problems, okay? “Well, it’s really nice that they schlepped out here for you,” I say, my voice coming out sharper than necessary. “Maybe give them a little credit.”

They both stare at me. They are not amused.

“What on earth,” Debbi says slowly, “is your problem?”

I feel bad. That was way out of line. “I’m sorry, I’m just — Yocheved didn’t come to visit me,” I whisper. And then I start to cry. “She hates me, and she thinks I hate her kid,” I sob. “And it’s not true, I love Levi, it’s just… there’s something wrong with him, and she totally doesn’t see that.”

Debbi puts her arms around me, Zeesy takes my hand.

“Naomi, Yocheved knows you love her,” Zeesy whispers.

Debbi nods. “And Naomi? Trust me. Yocheved knows there’s something wrong with Levi. I can promise you that.”

IF you had told me that I would one day witness my mother, the esteemed Morah Taub, dancing a line dance in the rec room, I would have told you that I’m super classy, but I need to call you a liar.

Yet here I am, mouth hanging open very much not like a lady, while Ma giggles and two steps to the right and then the left, elbows linked with Miri. Libby, Simi, and I look on, disbelief etched on our faces.

“Can we stay here with you?” Simi whispers.

Libby nods. “Yeah, my mother always told me not to get into strangers’ cars, and I have no idea who that woman is.”

I crack up, because my sisters make me laugh, and next thing I know, Miri is dragging us all onto the dance floor, and Ma grabs me and we swing back and forth, cha cha cha, and I’m laughing, because I have two left feet, but Ma is surprisingly good, and my ponytail whips me in the face, and Libby grabs me, and now Simi is dancing with Ma, and we’re all whirling around in a circle, and I can’t breathe but I also don’t ever, ever want to stop.

I hug them all goodbye, really appreciative that they came. I hug Ma last, feeling weirdly shy after our dance.

Ma doesn’t feel the same way; she grabs me and hugs me tight.

“Have an amazing rest of the summer, Naomi, I’m so proud of you.”

“Really?” I mutter. “Even though—”

“Yes,” Ma says firmly. “Even though Yocheved didn’t come.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and then I wave while they drive off into the sunset until the dark road swallows them up into the evening.

To be continued...

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 960)