In my family it doesn’t take long for things to get around so I wasn’t surprised when I saw Aunt Shana’s number on the caller ID. Thing is I couldn’t exactly pass the phone to my mother because a) she was fast asleep and b) even if she wasn’t feeling horrible Aunt Shana would be the last person she’d want to speak to. So instead I gave the phone to my father.

Let me just confirm this for all you parents out there: Yes we hear everything you say. Yes we fill in all the blanks and interpret everything that isn’t being said because we’re really smart and crazy intuitive. So all that little pitchers big ears stuff is one hundred percent true just so you know. And closeting yourself in the bathroom or talking in broken Yiddish or pig Latin doesn’t help much because we are truly uncanny. Not to make you paranoid or anything just giving you the facts.

Anyway back to the phone call.

After my father’s eyebrows shot up way past his eyeglasses and he finished pacing back and forth around the living room he finally said in this kind of shaky way “Thank you very much Shana. I really appreciate the offer. I’ll talk it over with Mindy and we’ll see what happens.”

This was all happening while I was faking studying for my math test you understand and it was a good five minutes before I could get wind of anything interesting. Then my father said “But we’d need at least two rooms — we can’t have you guys laying out that kind of money.” Eureka! It took every inch of restraint not to grab my father’s arm and say “Just say “yes” fast before they take it back!” I mean it was obvious that Aunt Shana was offering us a free ticket to a hotel for Pesach!

I could tell when my father got off the phone that he was fighting with himself to be calm and collected. Now he had to pitch Aunt Shana’s offer to my mother and that wasn’t going to be easy.

We heard all about it all right. Not directly of course. I mean their bedroom door was closed and all. It just so happened that I needed to shower and — coincidentally — the boys’ bathroom adjoins my parents’ room. Such a smart architect — I gotta thank him one day. Anyway it was quite the fireworks especially for someone as sick and weak as my mother.

“NO WAY!” she kind of shrieked. “I’m not going to be her next chesed case so she can brag to the whole world that she sent her nebbach sister-in-law to a hotel for Pesach!”

“And besides” my mother panted. “Do you know how much money it would cost just to buy wardrobes for the kids? In these places it’s crazy what goes on. They change outfits every meal!”

My father kind of mumbled something about Aunt Shana offering to take the kids shopping but my mother cut him off.

“This is ridiculous!” she said. “There’s no way we’re going and that’s final!”

Call me an optimist but I knew there was no way we were not going and I think my father kind of knew that too because he said “But Mindy let’s be reasonable. We can’t make Pesach with you in this condition. I think we really have to consider this offer and not look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially under the circumstances.”

By “under the circumstances” he probably meant the fact that he’s been out of a regular kind of job for a while and making Pesach is expensive any way you dice it. Trust me — I know these things.

That’s when my mother said “Shmuel don’t you get it? This gift horse bites!”

***

“Hi Shana!”

Shana gave a sunny smile at the warm welcome from her beloved “home team.” She threw down her bag and took a seat at the table.

“Where are we holding, ladies?” she asked, peeling off the plastic wrap on a large platter of cut veggies with a crystal bowl of dip at its center.

“Oh, Shana, you didn’t! I’m starving, and on a diet!” Elky Novack cried rapturously, reaching for a handful of perfectly julienned carrot sticks.

“Leave it to Shana,” Miriam Kook enthused. “You’re the best, Shan. Anyway, we gotta get to work here, people. How does everyone’s calendars look for the week of May seventh?”

Five fingers tapped five phones in perfect unison.

“Oish, my sister-in-law’s sister is getting married,” groaned Toby Reis. “I really need to go — it’s political.”

“I can probably swing it. I have dental cleanings for a couple of the kids but I can move them,” Elky offered. “I mean, there’s never going to be a date that works for everyone, that’s impossible. Whoever can make it on the actual day of the auction will come and whoever can’t, they’ll help out before and we’ll have tons of volunteers, anyway, on the day of.”

“It’s my mother-in-law’s birthday, actually,” Shana said, biting her lip. “I’m probably going to do some kind of party for her, so I may have to bail out on you guys. I’m sorry…”

Rochelle Grunberg looked up from where she was checking out her BYLA Class of ‘87 WhatsApp group’s latest and greatest.

“Your mother-in-law?” she said blandly. “You’re making her a big birthday bash? Is it, like, her sixtieth or something major?”

“Nah, I just like making parties,” Shana shrugged. “And if it makes her feel good, then why not?”

“Why not?” Rochelle snorted. “Why yes? She’s your mother-in-law, not your best friend. Unless you’re still looking to score brownie points, like, ten years into marriage?” She raised severely plucked eyebrows. “Believe me, though, it’s a lost cause. Does she even appreciate it?”

Chairwoman of the PTA Miriam sighed and tapped her fingernails impatiently. These “business meetings” always somehow evolved into gripe sessions, but a little group therapy amongst friends couldn’t hurt, could it?

“I think it’s really sweet that Shana’s making a party for her mother-in-law,” said Temmy Pollack stoutly, flashing Shana a supportive smile. “I’m sure she appreciates it, and anyway, ladies, these women are in our lives, here to stay, so a little nicey-nicey periodically isn’t so out of place, just saying…”

“Pass the dip and three cucumbers.” Toby leaned back languidly in her seat. “What’s happening this year for Pesach, by the way?” She glanced apologetically at Miriam. “Sorry. Two seconds on the Pesach situation and then we’re back to business. Promise.”

Rochelle yawned.

“Nothing exciting this year, unless you feel like schlepping to China.” She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “You can definitely count me out of that. We did Cancun last year but honestly, I wouldn’t go back. It gets old, and the shlep — with kids and luggage, a nightmare!”

Elky nodded understandingly.

“We’re doing the Texas ranch thing they’ve been advertising all over the place,” Shana said, looking around the table cautiously. “We’re hoping to go away with my sister-in-law and her family this year so we need something, y’know, family friendly.”

“Your sister-in-law? Who? Mindy?” Toby’s eyes became a little owlish behind her huge plastic frames. “She can afford the Texas thing for Pesach? I mean, I’m not saying anything negative, just I didn’t know they had the money for it…”

Shana pursed her lips.

“We worked it out,” she said. “She just came down with mono. There’s no way she’s making Pesach, and her parents have a tiny place so they can’t host, and my in-laws come with us every year as it is.”

“Don’t tell me you’re treating,” said Rochelle pointedly, pouring herself some sparkling water. “That would be so over-the-top nice of you, Shana.”

Shana just looked away.

“She must be so grateful,” Miriam said softly. “That is super generous of you, Shana. Was she, like, over the moon when you told her?”

Shana colored and waved her hand dismissively.

“Let’s not talk about it anymore,” she said quickly, before her committee could surmise the painful truth.

***