Esti
The week rushed by as Ronit worked constantly and I was rushed off my feet. Between her event planning, Daniel's school hours and after school programmes and Leah's current stage of grumpiness and teething, it was a miracle that Ronit and I managed to say two words to each other at the end of each day. It seemed unsustainable, how it was currently, but I didn't say that to her. I just hoped that after the event, it would all go back to normal; whatever normal was in New York.
Everything was bigger here, everything was louder. There was a general smell in the air, much harsher than the one in London, that I had to get used to. Ronit told me one night that week, as we were laying in bed, our eyelids dragging down, that different parts of the city smelled different.
'Central Park in the summer, smells like hot rain. Although sometimes it stinks of piss.' Her fingers were linked with mine, her phone was lighting up on the bedside table but she was ignoring it. 'Astoria smells like shisha smoke, Chinatown smells herby and vinegary, like you can taste the air. 42nd Street smells like salty bacon, don't ask me why, it just does. It used to be awful, when I first moved here and I couldn't bring myself to eat it, but it smelled so good.'
'What were you like when you moved here?' I asked her. I never usually asked her about her beginnings in New York, but now we were, some small part of me was aching to know. She looked at me, amused.
'I was a horror. An out-of-control deviant.'
'So nothing changed then?'
She laughed and rested her head against my stomach, I stroked her hair and forehead as she continued telling me about New York and all of the different smells. I eventually fell asleep, but woke up with a jolt when Leah started wailing.
'It's okay, I'll go.' Ronit said, sounding incredibly awake. I looked over to her side of the bed, and she'd been on her laptop; I don't think she had slept at all. It was frustrating because she was ratty when she was tired, and I meant to ask her to go to sleep when she returned, but I fell away, back into a dream.
Every time I asked her about the weekend she had planned, but she was being very secretive about it. That made me excited. It reminded me of when we were girls and she'd surprise me by making plans for us to go somewhere else; somewhere out of my comfort zone. The anticipation I felt was the same as when she told me about Paris.
'Are you sure you can get away for the weekend?' I asked her on the Friday night, when I started to doubt my own happiness.
'Yep. One hundred percent.' She said with a grin, holding Leah to her chest. She'd just got in from work, earlier than expected, and Daniel and Leah were already stuck to her like she was honey. I lit some candles while Daniel told her all about his week, the sports he enjoyed and all of his new friends.
'They told- they told me I talk funny.' He said, picking at the buttons of Ronit's blouse.
'And what did you say back?'
'I told them- I told them that they were the ones that talked funny because I talked normal. I talk better than them.'
'That's my boy.' Ronit said, proudly. 'And how has your sister been?' Ronit asked, holding Leah up above her and making Leah shriek with joy.
'She's stinky.' Daniel said. 'And she's always eating.'
'Well, that's exactly what you are like.' I heard Ronit say. 'Stinky and hungry.'
'No!' Daniel exclaimed. 'I was a baby once, but I'm not anymore.' He spoke matter-of-factly, which made both Ronit and I laugh.
We ate our dinner together at the table. Ronit had mentioned that she'd missed the chicken soup we used to eat as girls, so I'd made a special effort to research the Kosher supermarkets near us; there were dozens to choose from. For some reason, that made me feel more at home, though I hadn't been part of the community for years. I went there with Leah during the day and bought all of the same ingredients I had used back in Hendon; the chicken, the carrots, onions, celery and parsnips, and all of the fresh herbs. I even found the same brand of matzo meal that I always used. I felt happy and I felt at home.
