Abby, Tried and True

by Donna Gephart

  Abby secretly hoped no one else would show up. It would be fun to have the whole room to themselves… and Miss Amanda.

  When they were at the pile of games, Abby ran her fingers along the boxes—Stratego, Life, Clue, Battleship, Scrabble, and many more. She wanted to take her time and choose carefully. She was looking for something both she and Conrad would enjoy that wasn’t too easy or too complicated. Something—

  “This one okay?” Conrad had plucked out a game.

  When Abby saw what he’d chosen, she was surprised by the emotions that flooded through her. How come I didn’t notice that game right away?

  “Abby?” Conrad sounded alarmed. “Everything okay?”

  She nodded. “Paul and I usually play that one.”

  “Oh, we can choose something else. There’s a ton of games here.”

  “I love Monopoly.”

  “You sure?”

  Abby appreciated how thoughtful he was of her feelings. “Only if I get to be the dog.”

  “That’s cool because I like the race car.”

  “Perfect.”

  And it was. Conrad put the box on one of the tables, and they set it up together in an easy rhythm.

  When the pizza arrived, Abby took one slice and put it on a sheet of paper towel the librarian had laid out. Conrad ate two slices, and Miss Amanda had one, and there were still three and a half boxes of pizza left over.

  They were well into their game when Miss Amanda asked, “You two want more pizza?”

  “No thanks,” they both said.

  “Guess I’ll bring this to the staff room.”

  Abby and Conrad barely noticed they were alone in the large room because they were so absorbed in their game.

  “I’m going to bankrupt you, Braverman!”

  “You wish, Miller! Now pay up. You landed on my property.”

  “Was hoping you wouldn’t notice that.”

  At 4:30 p.m., Miss Amanda stood beside their table. “The program is supposed to end now, but you can keep playing until the library closes.”

  “Thanks,” Conrad and Abby said without looking up from the board.

  When the announcement was made over the loudspeaker that the library would be closing in ten minutes, Abby and Conrad counted their money and the value of their houses, hotels, and properties.

  “I won,” Conrad said. “Told you I’d beat you, Braverman. I’m the Monopoly Master!”

  Abby was glad he didn’t go easy on her. She reached out her hand, and Conrad shook it. His hand was a little bigger than hers and warm. “You beat me… this time, Miller. But I’m going to win next time.”

  “Whatever you need to believe, Braverman.”

  They cleaned up the game.

  “Did you two have fun?” Miss Amanda asked.

  “Yes. Thanks!” Abby said.

  “This was great,” Conrad said.

  Then they walked out of the library and got into the back seat of Mom Rachel’s car.

  “Behold the reigning Monopoly champion.” Conrad pumped his hands in triumph.

  Abby shook her head. “He won this time, Mom. But I’m totally going to teach him a lesson next time.” And she gave Conrad a poke in the ribs.

  “Ouch!”

  Then the two dissolved into heaps of laughter in the back seat.

  Abby noticed in the rearview mirror that Mom Rachel was smiling. She hadn’t seen her mom smile in a while.

  “I’m taking you two out for ice cream sundaes.”

  “Awesome. Thanks, Mom. Should we bring some back for Paul?”

  “That would be really nice.” Mom Rachel tapped the steering wheel to the beat of the music on the radio. “I’ll get a scoop of chocolate marshmallow for Mama Dee, too.”

  They drove toward the ice cream parlor, happy, each of them knowing to appreciate such a splendid day amid the difficult ones.

  Round Three

  Paul’s third chemotherapy treatment was scheduled for a week later, on a Monday—the last day of Hanukkah.

  Since Paul was beginning to feel better—he seemed to feel well right before he had to go back into the hospital for another treatment—the moms planned a Hanukkah celebration for the Sunday before, and the entire family was invited.

  “I’ll finally get to see my cousins,” Abby told Fudge. “And I can show Bubbe the hats I’ve been crocheting. The most recent one almost looks like a turtle. Like you!”

  Fudge dipped his head under the water as if to say, Big deal. He apparently did not share Abby’s enthusiasm.

  Paul was not wearing his cap when everyone arrived.

  His head was bald with tiny nubs of hair beginning to sprout.

  Abby had gotten used to seeing her brother without hair, but her cousin Jared kept staring at him. She almost told him to “take a picture; it would last longer,” but she didn’t want to make Jared feel bad.

  Abby sat close to her bubbe on the couch, showing her the most recent hat.

  “If you did your stitches a little differently here and here, I think it would look more turtlelike,” Bubbe Marcia said.

  Abby considered the changes and decided her bubbe was right. She’d make one more attempt and buy the soft green yarn she saw in the store last week. “Thanks, Bubbe.”

  “Anything for my shayna punim.”

  Abby melted into her bubbe’s side, feeling safe and loved.

  Paul was in the great room with Cara and Elyssa, who were trying to teach Miss Lucy to lie down and roll over. Abby thought it was a waste of time trying to teach that dog anything other than sitting for a snack and going to her bed. But when she heard a cheer from the great room, Abby knew they’d succeeded.

  Zeyde Jordan leaned across Bubbe Marcia and tapped Abby on the knee. “Okay, smarty-pants, I have a science joke for you.”

  “Let’s hear it,” Abby said.

  “Why can’t you trust atoms?”

  Abby bit her bottom lip. “I give up. Why?”

  “Because they make up everything!” Zeyde roared.

  Uncle Steve cupped his hands around his mouth. “Booooooo!”

  “Let’s hear another one,” Aunt Jeanne prompted.

  “Don’t encourage him,” Uncle Steve warned.

  Abby examined her turtle hat, deciding how she’d use Bubbe’s suggestions to make it better on the next try. She couldn’t wait to buy the yarn in town. She knew exactly what she was going to do with the hat, if it came out right.

  Zeyde said, “Okay. Why did the banana go to the hospital?”

  When no one responded, he said, “Because he was peeling really bad.”

  Everyone was silent.

  “Get it? Peeling really bad?” Zeyde offered.

  Bubbe Marcia elbowed him. “They get it, Jordan. Sha!”

  Abby was glad Paul was in the other room and missed the hospital joke. She was more glad when Mom Rachel called, “Dinner’s ready, everyone!”

  The potato latkes were delicious, especially with Mom Rachel’s homemade applesauce, but Abby noticed Paul ate only half a latke.

  Bubbe sat next to him. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Nu, bubbelah?”

  “Sores in my mouth, Bubbe,” he said quietly. “It hurts to eat.”

  She patted his hand. “All this will be behind you soon.”

  “Can’t wait,” Paul said, and slumped in his chair.

  Zeyde Jordan was mostly quiet at dinner, which was unusual. He kept looking over at Paul and sighing.

  Mama Dee noticed Abby staring at Zeyde. She tapped Abby’s shoulder, leaned close, and whispered, “Paul’s cancer is hitting your grandfather hard.”

  Abby nodded and whispered back, “I think it’s hitting everyone hard.”

  Mama Dee grabbed Abby’s hand under the table and squeezed.

  * * *

  Christmas morning, Cat texted Abby.

  I’m totally missing going out with you and your family to Mr. Zhang’s for Chinese dinner, Abs. How am I supposed to live without those spring rolls and duck sauce? Mom made b
russels sprouts for dinner. BRUSSELS SPROUTS.

  Abby laid down the turtle hat she was almost finished crocheting and responded.

  The moms said we wouldn’t be going out for dinner tonight anyway. Paul’s susceptible to infections. We’re staying home. All the holidays have stunk this year.

  That does stink, Abs. I’m sorry. He’ll be done with treatments soon, and things can get back to normal. Right?

  Abby hoped she was right, but it felt impossible. Paul seemed like a different person, and Abby wasn’t sure the old Paul was still there to come back after treatments. But that was all too much to say in a text, which was why Abby missed being able to talk to Cat in person. Even video chats were always interrupted by Cat’s mom.

  Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. Gotta go.

  Love you, Abs.

  xoxoxo

  Abby didn’t really have to go, but texting with Cat made her miss her even more, and Abby was already sad about Paul being so sick and being unable to go out for Chinese food like they always did.

  Nothing was the same anymore.

  When another text came in, Abby was sure it was from Cat. She didn’t feel like texting with her anymore but checked her phone anyway. The text was from Conrad.

  Hey, Sleepyhead. You ready to exchange gifts? I’ve got to leave soon to go to my uncle’s house.

  Abby leaped up.

  Give me ten minutes.

  The clock starts now, Braverman.

  Abby liked that Conrad called her “Braverman” sometimes. He was the only person who did, so it felt special.

  She grabbed her favorite sweater—purple with black stripes—because it was chilly outside. Then she threw on jeans and her Converse sneakers. After brushing her teeth and hair, Abby reached under her bed and pulled out the gift she’d made for Conrad. Then she ran to the door.

  When she opened the door, Conrad was standing there, leaning on a column and tapping his wrist, where a watch might be. “You’re late, Braverman.”

  “I have, like, four minutes left.” Abby grabbed his arm and pulled him into the house.

  “Hi, Conrad!” Mom Rachel yelled from the kitchen.

  “Hey!” he yelled back.

  Abby and Conrad sat on the couch.

  Mom Rachel came out, wiping her hands on a towel, with a dish under her arm. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

  “Thanks, Ms. Braverman.”

  Mom Rachel handed him the dish that had silver foil wrapping on top and a bright red bow. “Mama Dee baked these brownie bars for you and your mom. We’re so glad you’re living next door.”

  “Thanks!”

  “And please thank your mom for the nice dinner she dropped off the other day. It really made things easier for us.”

  “Will do.”

  Miss Lucy hopped up onto the couch, sniffed the dish, then snuggled next to Conrad.

  Smart dog, Abby thought.

  After Mom Rachel went back into the kitchen, Conrad leaned over and whispered to Abby, “I didn’t think to get anything for your moms.”

  His breath smelled like peanut butter. “They don’t want anything,” she whispered back.

  “Okay. But I did get this for you.” He handed Abby a small wrapped box.

  “Thanks, Conrad. It’s perfect.”

  “You didn’t even open it yet.”

  Abby felt her cheeks flame. “Oh, yeah.” She gently pulled off the paper. It was a box of magnetic poetry tiles, and on the front of the box, the tiles were arranged to say, YOU TOTALLY ROCK. “You totally rock!” Abby blurted.

  She could see Conrad’s cheeks go pink, and she realized they were both embarrassed. “I mean, uh…”

  “Well, I’d better get going. Mom’s waiting to go to my uncle’s. He promised to play basketball with me.”

  “Basketball!” Abby shouted. “I made you something. I mean, I made your gift.”

  Conrad raised his eyebrows. “Is it something I can eat?”

  “Only if you want to choke to death.” Abby shook her head. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Abby!”

  “Yeah?” She bit a thumbnail.

  “Calm down.”

  She nodded and handed him a small bag. “It’s just a little thing. I didn’t know. I thought maybe—”

  “I’m sure it’s great.” Conrad pulled away the tissue paper from the little bag and pulled out an orange crocheted circle with a key ring attached. “It’s a…”

  “Basketball key ring.” Abby pointed out the black stitching that made it look like a basketball. “I saw how to make it online.”

  “It is a basketball key ring!”

  “Yup. I told you it’s small.”

  “Abby?”

  “Yes?”

  “I love it.” He reached into his pocket and put his house key on the key ring. “But I’ve really got to go.”

  “Conrad?”

  He stood and turned to look at Abby. “Yeah?”

  “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry… Hanukkah?” he offered.

  Abby lit up like a menorah on the eighth night.

  They hugged, and he left.

  Abby sat on the couch, holding the box of magnetic poetry tiles to her chest. “It is perfect,” she whispered.

  Mom Rachel came out with two limeade spritzers and handed one to Abby. “You know, I really like that boy,” she said.

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  “And his mom has turned out to be a good neighbor. I mean, nobody could replace Miriam, but I’m glad she’s a nice person.”

  Abby nodded, thinking about her bubbe’s saying about a door closing and a window opening.

  * * *

  Late that afternoon Abby, Paul, and Mom Rachel were sitting together in the living room.

  Mom Rachel handed Abby a menu from Mr. Zhang’s. “Let me know what you want. Mama Dee will run out and pick it up.”

  Abby chose two spring rolls and vegetable fried rice. She knew it wouldn’t be as much fun as going out to the restaurant, but at least they’d be having Chinese food together on Christmas like always.

  When Abby passed the menu to Paul, he handed it back to Mom Rachel.

  “You have to order something, Paul,” she said.

  He shook his head.

  “I’m getting you a spring roll. Surely you can eat one spring roll.”

  “Mom.”

  That was all he said, but it was enough to make her stop talking and put the menu on the table.

  Even though Paul was huddled under the endless afghan and Miss Lucy was squished up beside him, he shivered.

  Abby understood that his low blood cell counts meant that he didn’t get enough oxygen and it made him cold. “I’m sorry the endless afghan isn’t enough to keep you warm.”

  He nudged his shoulder into hers. “It’s the best, Six-Pack.”

  Hearing her nickname felt good.

  “I’ll turn up the heat.” Abby ran from the room and nudged the thermostat a bit warmer. Then she went into her room and grabbed the turtle hat she’d just finished crocheting. “Hi, Fudge,” she said to her turtle, who was warming himself under the lamp.

  She didn’t wait to see if he responded in any way. Abby was already back in the living room. “Here.” She handed the hat to Paul. “It’s really soft, and it’ll help keep the heat in. I read online that seven to ten percent of body heat escapes through your head.”

  Paul put the hat on.

  Mom Rachel’s laughter bubbled out.

  Abby laughed too.

  Paul pulled out his phone, turned on the camera, and looked at himself. “Not bad,” he said. “I look like… a turtle.”

  “You really do.” Abby beamed and sat beside her brother. “But in a good way.”

  “Who looks like a turtle?” Mama Dee walked into the room. When she saw Paul, she staggered back with her hands up. “Who is that handsome turtle over there?”

  Paul shook his head, and Mama Dee grabbed the menu. “Everyone make their choices?”

  No
one said anything.

  “Oooookay,” Mama Dee said.

  Mom Rachel leaned over and patted her hand. “We’re all set, babe. Just add one spring roll to what everyone wrote down.”

  Mama Dee called in the order while the rest of them sat quietly.

  Suddenly, Paul asked, “Mom, how’s the channel doing?”

  Mom Rachel looked up, surprised. “Lettuce Eat?”

  He nodded and tugged the turtle hat on a little tighter.

  “Well,” Mom Rachel said, “honestly, it’s not as popular since your handsome mug hasn’t been on there.”

  Paul looked down at his lap.

  “Oh, Paul. I didn’t mean…”

  “Sorry,” Paul said quietly.

  Abby moved closer to her brother.

  Mama Dee put down her phone. “What are you sorry about, Paul? What did I miss?”

  Paul looked up. His eyes had dark circles under them. His skin looked especially pale with no eyebrows on his face. “I’m sorry for keeping you both… from work. I’m sorry I can’t help… Mom with her videos.”

  Abby’s heart broke at how her brother struggled for breath to talk. She squeezed her hands into fists, which she wanted to use to smash the entire universe for all of its unfairness. She wished she were stronger, able to help her brother more somehow. But she just sat there—useless—plain old Abby.

  “Paul,” Mom Rachel said. “We don’t care about those things.”

  Paul swallowed and grimaced. “I care. I know I’m making everything… harder for… everyone. And I’m especially sorry for… costing so much money and making you have all those… bills. I’m—”

  “Don’t you dare, Paul Braverman.” Mom Rachel sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Don’t you even…”

  Mama Dee sat next to her and held her close.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to play Monopoly with you, Six-Pack.”

  Abby bit her bottom lip so she wouldn’t cry.

  He huddled small under the giant afghan with the silly turtle hat on his head. “I’m sorry I got so… sick and can’t do… anything for myself… or anyone… else… and… you all have to take… care of… me.” Paul sobbed and shook.