The Truth About My Bat Mitzvah by Nora Raleigh Baskin Page A

parents.
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    Sammy had his operation. He was fine. He was in recovery but my parents didn’t want to leave the hospital. They would stay there allnight. They had a little chair-bed set up in Sammy’s room.
    No, no. I was fine. Don’t worry. Of course, I’d see them in the morning.
    I love you, too. Both of you.
    I will.
    Bye.

31
    I’ll Always Be with You
    Was it really only six months ago? That last visit with Nana and Poppy. Gold’s Deli. Chocolate egg creams. The pickles and the doctor’s appointment. And me walking behind my grandmother, pretending I didn’t know who she was.
    Poppy was taking me and Sammy to Grand Central Station to meet our dad and to catch a train back home. It was time for us to go home.
    Nana insisted on coming downstairs to say good-bye even though she hadn’t put on her makeup. No foundation, no fake eyelashes, not even her eyebrows. She didn’t outline with pencil, but she ran her red lipstick over her lips without even looking in the mirror.
    â€œWhat?” she said. “I know where my lips are.”
    I should have known then.
    â€œBut, Nana,” I told her. “You never leave the house without your face.”
    â€œWho needs to put on a face?” she said. “When I have my two grandchildren.”
    When we walked outside, the sun was shining bright. It was spring. The light fell across the tall buildings and landed only on our side of the street. My grandfather walked to the curb and lifted his hand to hail a cab. Nana and I waited outside the lobby. I thought she looked younger without her makeup, softer. More like my mother.
    â€œIt’s beautiful, isn’t it?” my grandmother said. “The world is beautiful.”
    â€œNana, why are you crying?” I asked her.
    â€œI don’t know. Sometimes I miss people. I miss my mother.”
    I had never heard my grandmother speak like that. The stories she told about her life, about her family, always sounded like stories. Like books at a far end of the shelf, not real. I had never heard my grandmother sound as she did now, like a little girl.
    Like me.
    I suddenly turned and wrapped my arms around her waist.
    â€œI’m so sorry, Nana,” I said.
    â€œFor what, Caroline? You haven’t done anything.”
    â€œFor what I did yesterday coming back from the doctor. When I didn’t answer you. When I walked behind you.” I shrugged my shoulders like it was no big deal, but I was scared. I had let her walk too far ahead.
    â€œI just wanted to pretend I was by myself. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
    Suddenly she laughed. She hadn’t laughed all weekend. “Oh, my shayna maideleh , that’s what children do. That’s what they’re supposed to do, grow up. Move away. Go out on their own, test the waters…all that kind of thing.”
    I reached up and took her hand. “I don’t want to go out on my own, Nana.” I told her.
    â€œNot to worry,” she told me, squeezing my hand. “You will always be my shayna madel .”
    Sammy was shouting to me. They were waiting for me, the cab door was open. Sammy was already inside.
    â€œAnd I will always be with you,” my nana told me. “Even when we are apart.”

32
    The Truth Comes Out
    â€œYou’re surprised to see that photograph here, aren’t you?” asked Aunt Gert.
    After I hung up with my parents and they told me Sammy was okay, I realized I was still holding my grandparents’ wedding photo in my hands. My aunt Gert had come into the kitchen and turned on the light.
    â€œA little,” I said. There didn’t seem to be much use in lying.
    â€œI love my brother very much, Caroline. I loved your grandmother, too. Things aren’t always how they sound. Sometimes they sound worse when they are taken out of context. I think a lot of life’s problems are just misunderstandings no one bothers to fix.”
    I