Page 77 of This Is How It Started
“Mm, it smells good in here.” I dip my finger in the horseradish (the bitter taste of slavery) and my mother slaps my hand away.
“Mom got one of those premade Passover meals at Whole Foods, so it should be good this year.”
My mother shoots Adam a dirty look. “Just for that you can set the table. TheHaggadahsare over there.” She points to the side table, where a stack of the Passover booklets sit. They’re the same ones we’ve been using since Adam’s bar mitzvah.
“Where’s Hannah?” I ask.
“She got caught in traffic.” Mom checks the oven to see if the brisket is warm. “Campbell didn’t want to come?”
Secretly, I didn’t invite him. Ever since our kiss three weeks ago, I’ve been keeping my distance from him and avoiding his phone calls. Even though it was only an impulse kiss, like standing in line at the grocery store after a bad breakup and grabbing an armfull of chocolate before getting to the cash register, it was confusing. Better to give it time before it takes on more meaning than it should.
“Nah, he had something else going on tonight.”
Adam slides me a glance. “He seems to be doing well with the breakup. I must be a relationship genius, because I predicted it wouldn’t last past three years. Four years max.”
“Why’s that?” I ask despite myself.
Adam shrugs but looks at me likeYou know why.
“I thought she was a very nice girl,” my mother says. “Not the sharpest tool in the shed but a figure to die for. And she’s a real go-getter. Do you know she’s had three promotions at Serena & Lily? You could learn from a girl like that, Rachel.”
Hannah walks in just in the nick of time. “Sorry I’m late.” She hands Mom two bottles of wine.
“Are they kosher?”
Hannah looks at Mom in puzzlement. “When have we ever been kosher? No, they’re not kosher.”
Hannah’s in a black sleeveless shift dress and high heels, and her hair is done. She’s also wearing makeup. The rest of us are in sweats. My mom’s are really expensive sweats but sweats nonetheless.
“You look great, Hannah,” I tell her.
“I don’t know why everyone wears so much black these days. The world could use a little color.”
Way to be negative, Mom. Hannah and I look at each other and roll our eyes.
“Can we open one of those bottles now?” Adam grabs the wine and starts searching through my mother’s drawers for a corkscrew.
“I want to show you what I did in the powder room.” Mommie Dearest takes the wine from Adam and herds us into the bathroom off the entryway, her latest project. The old toilet is gone, and in its place is a toilet that comes up to my belly button, I kid you not.
Adam stares at it for a few seconds. “All you need to do is build a counter in front of it and you can eat your breakfast in here.”
“It’s called a comfort toilet,” my mother says. “Isn’t it fabulous?”
“Other than it being much higher than your average toilet, I don’t get the appeal.” Adam again.
“When you’re my age you’ll understand,” my mother says. “What do you think of the wallpaper?” It’s a shiny blue that kind of looks like foil with big colorful butterflies.
It’s not really my vibe, the translation being it’s ugly as sin. But I gush, “It’s amazing,” in the hopes we can open that bottle of wine now.
“Something smells like it’s burning,” Hannah says. I catch a whiff of it too. Melting rubber.
“Oh my God, I forgot the carrots.” My mother runs back to the kitchen, leaving the three of us alone with her giant toilet.
“Let’s put it to the test, shall we?” Adam flips the lid up and sits on it, lacing his hands behind his head and stretching his legs out. “You know, I think she’s onto something.”
Hannah grabs his arm and pulls him up. “You’re being obnoxious. Let’s help Mom or there’ll be nothing to eat.”
Like good soldiers we follow Hannah into the kitchen.
