Israel Book Shop presents Chapter 35 of a new online serial novel, If Anyone Is Listening, by Esther Rapaport. Check back for a new chapter every week. Click here for previous chapters.
Copyright © Israel Bookshop Publications.
“There still are no new recordings! It’s been so long, I’m losing my mind!” Steve griped as he paced back and forth.
“Take a drink, and calm down,” Rudy said with a yawn.
“And did you see what they informed me? That they don’t believe that it’s me! Do you know what I’m going to do to them? I’m going to go into those accounts again and reset them! If some corrupt guy was happy to earn his ten thousand dollars this month, he’ll find that his account is empty all over again!”
***
“Tzippy, what day is today?”
Tzippy started. “Thursday night, Tatty.”
“Have you spoken to Mommy at all?”
“Yes. She’s very worried about you.”
“Oy. It’s late already… I see it’s dark outside. Go home, Tzippy.”
“Yes, I’m leaving soon, and I’ll be back early in the morning, b’ezras Hashem.”
“But you can’t be here for Shabbos,” he said, his eyes closed. “What are the doctors saying? They don’t plan to release me just yet, do they?”
“Your fever hasn’t gone down for three days, Tatty. You can’t go home now.”
“If you’ll be home with Chumi for Shabbos, I’ll manage by myself here. Do the neighbors know you’re alone? Maybe tell them something, so they’ll know to bring you food.”
“I don’t know who knows and who doesn’t,” Tzippy said. “You know how it is, everyone is busy with their own lives. Oh, Hirschbaum’s son did come up and say that his father wanted to know how you are doing, because he hasn’t seen you in shul for a long time. And he asked me to tell you refuah sheleimah.”
“I think he might have called too, but I couldn’t answer. My two chavrusos also called. I answered one of them, barely, and then I didn’t pick up for the second.”
“Would you want them to come visit?”
He shook his head in an ambiguous way, and was quiet for two long minutes, until Tzippy thought he might have fallen asleep. But suddenly he spoke again. “So what’s with Shabbos, Tzippy? What are you and Chumi going to eat? There’s money at home; go tomorrow and buy takeout if you don’t have the time and energy to cook.”
“I won’t leave you here by yourself.” Her teeth were clenched. “And it will be fine here, b’ezras Hashem. At the Yad Sarah building next door, there’s a guesthouse with rooms to sleep, and there are meals in the hospital courtyard, from Bikur Cholim. Chumi will stay with the Grossmans, her friend.”
“Chessed people,” he murmured. “What a tremendous zechus they have. But for you, a single girl, to be alone in a hospital, a whole Shabbos? I don’t like it.”
“Shimmy’s Batya offered to come and be with me. I think I’ll accept her offer.”
“Where will Shmuli be?”
“With her parents. Tatty, was the doctor here in the afternoon? Because the nurse told me that he’s considering operating on your knee. Did they say anything to you about that?”
“No….”
“But is it possible they’ll come suddenly and, like, tell us that you’re having surgery the next morning?”
“Maybe, if that’s what they need to do.” He opened his eyes, which were glassy from fever. “Why does that possibility worry you so much?”
“Because you wanted to do the surgery in Assuta Hospital, didn’t you? Isn’t it a better idea to consult with someone about this? To find out who’s an expert? It’s not a dangerous operation, I know, but it’s also not nothing… Especially when you…feel so awful.”
“I don’t know who to consult with, Tzippy.”
“There are all kinds of medical organizations we can ask.”
“And if they’ll say that a different doctor is better, what will we do?” He looked at his IV pole. “I’m here already. Are we going to get up and move to a different hospital? I have no strength for that, Tzippy. The ward here is fine, the care seems good, and Hashem will help.”
“Maybe it would be a good idea to at least call your orthopedist?”
“From the kupat cholim? You can’t talk to him by phone.” With effort, he turned onto his side. “At best, someone can go there, and the secretary will give him the question in writing.”
“He has hours tomorrow morning, right?”
“Friday?” Yaakov Shlomo blinked. “Yes, from eight to ten.”
“So I’ll go there right away in the morning, b’ezras Hashem.” Tzippy shouldered her handbag but stayed sitting on the plastic chair. “And then I’ll come here.”
“Are you sure you want to be here for Shabbos?”
“Positive, Tatty.”
“Okay.” He reached for the cup of water on the bedside table. She hurried to hand it to him, and then raised the head of the bed. Father and daughter sat together in silence.
“Can I help you with anything before I go, Tatty? Do you want the cheese you didn’t eat at suppertime?”
“No thanks. Robinson didn’t call while I was sleeping, did he?”
“No.”
“Maybe tomorrow I’ll have more strength to record a short message on the phone. I’ll ask the listeners to daven for me.” Yaakov Shlomo closed his eyes. “Bye, Tzippa’le. Good night, and thanks for everything. Will you call when you get home?”
“I would like you to be sleeping by then, Tatty.”
“If I see that I’m falling asleep, I’ll turn off my phone. That way, if I’m sleeping, you won’t wake me up. So call, please.”
***
“Ima?” Sara’le’s eyes are as big as the two cups of coffee in front of us. “You want Yudi…to come back?”
“Yes. I don’t mind if he comes with Ruchi, of course. But I’m not sure her parents will let her.”
“Why do you want Yudi to come?”
“Because he needs support,” I tell her. “And he doesn’t have it there. Ruchi’s parents are really nice and very devoted, and they do whatever they can. I’m sure they also think about him. But…there’s no substitute for a mother.”
“If we would ask my kids tonight, they might very well say there are sometimes very good substitutes for a mother, like a caring grandmother.” She chuckles. “So you came here to talk to me about this, Ima? And I just saddled you with all that work?”
“I came to talk and to help you out, and I’m happy you were able to sleep,” I say. “You’ll have more energy to make Shabbos tomorrow.”
“We’re going to my mother-in-law this Shabbos,” she says.
“Oh.” I don’t know why I feel defeated. Is it because I didn’t discern the immediate needs of my daughter and her household, and only her mother-in-law knew to offer the right help? Maybe because I’m too busy with Yudi… “And when he’ll be here,” I continue from where I left off, forcibly suppressing the guilt, “I know I’ll be so much calmer. I’ll be able to see firsthand what’s with him and his life.”
“He was here up until a year or two ago, when he got married, Ima,” Sara’le says simply. “And were you really calmer? Weren’t there times when you worried even more than you are worrying now?”
I consider what she’s saying. Her words make sense.
“And let’s say he does come here, and chalilah…he won’t want to go back to America afterward, to Ruchi there. Wouldn’t that be so much worse?”
“I don’t want to damage Yudi’s marriage, Sara’le, chas v’shalom!” I say. “But I’m afraid that if he stays there, then that’s what will happen anyway—and he’ll come out of it in an even worse way. I want to support him, to give him strength, so that he will be able to continue building his home.”
“But aren’t you afraid that if you invite him here, it might totally upset Ruchi and her parents?”
“I’m not sure. It’s not a regular situation there, Sara’le, and there’s a chance her parents might actually be happy for me to take some of the burden off of them, by caring for Yudi myself a little bit. Especially if we make up ahead of time that he’s coming for just ten days, or something like that…”
“What does Abba say?” my daughter inquires.
“I don’t tell him any of this yet. I wanted to hear your opinion first.”
“It really isn’t a regular situation,” Sara’le says slowly. She adds her cup of coffee to mine on the sill of the porch. They can cool off together. “Because they are not a regular couple. But maybe, before taking such a step, you should consult a professional in the field? And then you can take that opinion to Ruchi’s mother?”
“At this point, I just want to speak openly to Ruchi’s mother about all of this,” I say. “I want to hear about the situation from her point of view. I don’t want to attack her, chalilah. We’re both mothers, Sara’le. In a pretty…similar place. And despite all my frustrations, I really respect and appreciate her, and I am hurting with her too. But that doesn’t contradict the fact that I’m Yudi’s mother, and for me, his health and emotional stability are above all.”
Sara’le looks at me. “Do you think the situation there is really so horrible?”
“Maybe you should call and speak to him? Hear for yourself how he sounds?”
Sara’le shrugs. “Since Isamar was born, my efforts at conversation with Yudi have pretty much been hitting brick walls. Either he doesn’t answer me at all, or he only answers, ‘Fine, fine,’ and then asks if you told me to call him.”
I nod sorrowfully. Yudi has had better times and worse times with his relationships with his siblings. In general, he has the best connection of all with Sara’le. She has accepted him smoothly, and even when it was hard for her, she never showed that to him. So if he’s hardly communicating with Sara’le now, it shows that my fears are well-founded.
How much time is it going to take until he stops communicating with me, too?
“Or maybe I need to go to him,” I say suddenly. “That could also be an option to consider.”
***
It’s not easy for me to speak right now… I’m in the hospital, in serious condition. And I’d be very grateful to anyone who prays for me, Yaakov Shlomo ben Chaya, that I should have a complete recovery.
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