The Trouble with Good Ideas by Amanda Panitch

Author:Amanda Panitch
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Roaring Brook Press

CHAPTER TWELVE

I WOULDN’T HAVE BELIEVED IT if you’d told me a few days earlier, but I actually forgot about Isabella’s invitation until Sunday morning. I blinked into the fuzzy sunlight filtering through my curtains and wondered what time it was.

The sound of clanging pots and pans and knives met me as I drifted down the stairs. I perked up. That sounded like a big, fancy breakfast. French toast? Pancakes? Waffles? My stomach let out a ferocious growl. Like there was an actual big cat growling behind me, I hopped down the stairs and skidded into the kitchen.

Where there was definitely no French toast or pancakes or waffles.

My shoulders slumped in disappointment as I took in what was actually going on. The counter was heaped with boxes and bags of walnuts, figs, prunes, dried dates, and dried apricots. Apples scattered around like they were trying to run away from the gleaming silver apple corer. There were opened boxes of matzah, their contents soaking in a pan of yellowy-white gloop.

“Good morning,” my mom said from behind me, holding a massive knife. That sounded like the beginning of a nightmare, and if you considered this breakfast disappointment a nightmare—as I did—it held up.

“No breakfast?” I asked. Hope rose in my voice. It could still happen. I was sure we had all the necessary ingredients. “French toast?”

My mom shook her head, sweeping past me. She set the giant knife down on the counter with a clink. “Seder prep for Passover.”

“When’s the seder?” It was weird, not knowing when it was. In Jewish school, we’d discuss the holidays and calendar all the time. But since practically no one else in my new school was Jewish, the holidays felt like they snuck up on me. Like a few weeks ago, with Purim. It totally snuck up behind me, and I didn’t see it until it was too late. Boom! It’s Purim! Have you decided on your costume yet?

When I went to Schechter, we’d start thinking about our Purim costumes ages in advance, practically as soon as Chanukah ended, even though Purim didn’t usually come around till March-ish. When I was a little girl, all my friends and I would go as the Purim heroine, Queen Esther, but we changed it up as we got older. Last year, Lexy and Julie and I went as our Hebrew school teachers. Julie got particularly inspired when it came to imitating Rabbi Paskind’s beard.

This year I went as nothing. Why bother? Even though the Purim carnival at our old temple was on a Sunday, Mom and Dad were busy and couldn’t do the two-hour trip.

“The first night is Monday,” Mom said, and the word Monday was like a lightning bolt direct to my brain.

“Oh! I’m supposed to go over to Isabella Lynch’s house on Monday after school.”

I said Isabella’s name the way we’d say Queen Esther’s name when reading the Purim story, but the effect was lost on my mom. “You’ll have to reschedule then,” she said. “We’re due at Zaide’s at four.

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