mineâs been fine,â Susan said.
And Ada selected her favorite cookie with the chunks of crystallized sugar and popped it into her mouth and chewed silently.
âOtherwise, everythingâs OK, Mom?â
âYes, dear,â Ada replied, wondering if she should mention the gruesome discovery at the auction, and then decided not to. âThings are fine. Why donât you tell Aaron to give me a call? From the sounds of it he could use a friendly ear. If he wanted, he could stay the weekend.â
âYouâre not going in to see Grandma Rose?â
âNo,â Ada said, feeling a guilty twinge at the mention of her ninety-one-year-old mother in her Lower East Side apartment. âI went last week.â And not wanting to give Susan any more of an opening into a topic that was tearing her up: âTell Aaron Iâll email him. Iâd love for him to visit.â
âI donât know,â Susan said. âHeâs gotten to be a handful.â
âWhatever you decide,â she replied, knowing that it wouldnât be what her daughter wanted, but invariably would rest with her bullying husband. âI would love to see him.â
âWell, Iâll let him know. I should probably get going.â
âOK dear, give my love to the kids.â
âLove you, Mom.â
âLove you too, dear,â Ada said and hung up. The call left her rattled, thinking about her grandson, her aging mother, but there was something else. She stared at her dated phone caddy, the kind where you move a lever over the letter and then press a bar to make it open. She moved it to âRâ and looked at the name. Without pause she dialed, half hoping a machine would pick up. Instead a woman answered on the second ring.
âMiriam?â Ada asked.
âNo, itâs Beth. Ada? Is that you?â
And Ada chatted with her friendâs partner, quickly catching each other up on their respective lives. âHold on,â Beth said, âI hear her getting out of the shower.â
After a couple moments: âAda! Dahling, how are you?â
âIâm good,â she said, picturing Miriam, with her curly salt-and-pepper hair, deep brown eyes and warm smile. âI wanted to wish you Lâshana tova .â
âAnd a sweet New Year to you, as well. So when am I going to break you out of that ghetto for old folks? Especially for a hot ticket like you. Last time I saw you, you didnât look a day over thirty-nine.â
âYour nose is growing and itâs not that bad here.â
âSo you say. I was sure that once Harry passed youâd come back to the city.â
âNo,â Ada said, âI like it. Itâs a bit geriatric, but itâs beautiful and Iâve got friends.â
âSo youâve said.â Miriamâs tone was questioning. âAnyone special?â
âOh, please. Iâm sixty-two. I think that ship has sailed.â
âAre you serious? Sixty-two isnât old, and besides, youâre still a fine-looking chick.â
Ada blushed. âYeah, but you should see the men out here . . . Slim pickings.â
âDahling, not so interested in the men, and I hear those places have like three women to every one man. Maybe I should check it out.â
Ada chuckled. âActually itâs more like ten women to every man, and I donât think Beth would appreciate your looking around.â
âTrue. You know weâre going to New Hampshire next month to get married? Would love for you to come, maybe force you into some horrible bridesmaid dress.â
âCongratulations!â Ada said. âBut why not Connecticut? You could stay here . . .â she added, a weird mix of emotions tumbling through her head and her chest.
âBeth has family in New Hampshire, and good for you for keeping on top of this stuff. Wish it had gone through in Hawaii â oh well. Are you sure
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