We share a snickerdoodle in silence; Libby makes no comment about fats and sugars, she just chews thoughtfully

I

slide the challos into the oven, blowing a stray hair out of my face. Ma and Ta went to the Kuhnreich wedding in Flatbush, and I’d offered to get all the baking done after I do my homework.

Libby’s in college until 11, but she promised she’d help then.

I flip through Ma’s immaculate recipe box. Time to make something yum. Fudgy brownies, peanut butter thumbprints, chocolate chip, snickerdoodles…. Yes, snickerdoodles. Bring on the margarine and cinnamon. I imagine Libby’s face if she could see me creaming margarine and laugh. Sooo sorry, Nurse Taub. Sometimes you gotta just go for it.

I cream and mix and pour and sprinkle, and honestly, despite the Ishay Ribo blasting throughout the kitchen, it’s getting a bit lonely.

Mentally running through my list of people I actually like today as I pull the challos out of the oven, I land on Shan. I haven’t spoken to her in forever, and it’d be fun to play compare and contrast with our mother-as-our-teacher experiences.

I’m already smiling before she even picks up. We had hit it off so well, and she’s just so much fun to be with. Soaping the sponge, I get started on my stack of mixing bowls and spatulas.

“Hello?”

“Shaaan! It’s Naomi, how are you?”

There’s a long awkward silence. “Naomi?”

Ohhhh boy. “Yeah, Naomi Taub. From camp?”

Another silence then, “Yeah, I know who you are.”

Oh well, that’s good then. No amnesia here.