Hi! Yes, thank you. Thank you for the reviews and follows, thank you for all the kind words of welcome for my son. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you. I owe many more and they are coming, but I have baby-brain.
Big love,
Mecha
. . . .
The shadows were long when Liana woke up. Ema was still asleep. A high whine from outside meant Daddy was mowing their fairytale lawn. She slid off the mattress and circled the room, smelling Ema's lotions and perfumes, sliding her fingers down the spines of all her books. Her Star of David necklace was laid out on the dresser top. Liana straightened the chain. The clasp was so small. Saba or Daddy would have to put it back on her.
She wandered into the closet. The clothes were still pushed aside from when Daddy found her. She straightened the hangers and let her hands linger on Ema's soft cotton clothes. Long sweaters and leggings in winter. Soft dresses and sandals in summer. No jeans or anything scratchy, or she would get a rash and call it charara. Liana got a rash like that once, when she and Lyuda were sleeping on the beach. It wasn't sunburn. Liana didn't get sunburned; her skin was a little bit brown, like Ema's. She liked that.
She touched a grey sweater, a maroon one, a teal one, and then there was a soft oh from the bedroom and gagging. Her scalp prickled, but Saba's voice came next and then she could hear him taking Ema into the bathroom. That was good. He would take care of her.
Her fingers dug hard into that teal sweater and she couldn't let go. She would ruin it. Ema would be upset. Liana's stomach gurgled. She pushed the hangers aside and crawled behind the clothes, drawing her knees up under her chin.
Liana had a sketchbook in her head. She opened it and drew from memory a Zuni fetish. A mountain lion. The long back, tail curled up. Powerful paws. Turquoise eye and heartline. She shaded it paintstone-red. An offering-bundle? Maybe arrowheads for the hunt. She added depth and contour—claws, a thin mouth, ridges for ears. The right shading could bring out the southwest sun, the painted desert, the shadows of the water-fetching girls with the clay jars on their heads. Maybe she could draw an owl next and shade in the low-slung pueblos and terraces, the red clay, the sky like a lapis-blue bowl.
Liana took a breath, blinked her eyes hard, and put the cougar aside. An owl was a little easier. Feathers like a cat's ears. Talons. Short legs tucked beneath the opaline body. Abalone heart line. Red-red, but a turquoise eye because...because. She cut in feathers with Picasso marble and—
"Lia-girl?"
The drawings were gone. She didn't want to start over.
"Liana? Come out please, buba."
She gulped and thought about Lyuda. Her ice-blue eyes and knotty, track-marked hands. No. No no. She was gone. Breathe, she commanded. "Ema?"
"Can you come out, baby?"
She did, creeping on her knees between her mother's soft sweaters. They smelled clean and flowery. Ema smelled like toothpaste and medicine. She stroked Liana's cheek with the back of her knuckles. "Why were you hiding, my sweet girl?"
"I don't know," she admitted. She didn't. Not really.
Ema pulled her closer. The top of her tire bit Liana's side. "I am ok, motek," she whispered. "I promise. You protected me and took care of me and I am tremendously proud of you. Tremendously. I know you know what that means." She kissed Liana's cheeks and brow, smoothed her hair.
Liana crawled into her lap and pressed her face against Ema's hot neck.
"My baby," she cooed. "I love when you climb on me." Liana held on tighter. Ema did, too. "Saba told me you were sitting by yourself in drawing class," she whispered.
"I was being careful of germs."
She got a stern look. "You need to sit with your friends, Liana. It's important. Promise me you will try again."
She lifted one shoulder. She couldn't look at Ema. "I don't like camp."
"Then quit," her mother said simply, but then she asked: "What would you like to do instead?"
Liana peered into her dark, wet eyes. "I want to stay home with you."
Ema bit her lower lip. She did that when she was thinking. "I want you to make one friend before you start school. Should we call...what was her name?"
"Anna." Anna liked to write poetry and swing swings. She had thick brown hair she wore in two braids and always wore a dress and tights.
"Anna," Ema repeated. "Maybe she would like to come over and swim one afternoon."
"After you're better," Liana finished for her.
She giggled her raspy giggle. "Yes. Until then we are under strict quarantine." She pushed Liana's hair back again. Ema's hands were horrible and hurt. Why were they were so soft on Liana's head? "You did not eat dinner. Are you hungry?"
"No." Her stomach was upset.
"Maybe a smoothie?"
She shrugged. Ema thought she was tricking Liana by putting kale in with the fruit and ice cream. "Ok."
Daddy was in the kitchen, still sweaty from mowing and trimming their big, green lawn. He smiled at them. The blender was already out. "I'm making frog's-eyes smoothies," he said. "Want one?"
She thought about frog parts all swirling around and felt her stomach flip. "Gross, Daddy."
"Newt's-face, then. Want extra snake-milk ice cream?" That just made her laugh. He scooped frozen mango out of a white box. "Chicken feet?"
"Chicken livers," she teased.
Ema made a face. "Enough, you two."
She got serious. "Sorry."
Ema patted her legs. Liana crawled up again. "It is fine, my Lia-girl. You will need a bath when you're done."
The blender roared, and then Daddy handed her a cup. Mango, berries, ice cream. It took a long time to drink the whole thing. How could she be tired after such a long nap?
Ema tugged her hand. "Come, cholmani. It is my turn to run your bath."
Liana followed. Her feet were heavy. She let her mother choose her pajamas and wash her hair and face. Like always, Ema kissed her fingers—her knuckles, really—and pressed them to the scars on Liana's neck and arms. Cigarettes, a pocketknife, once a glass pipe, though she didn't know that at the time. Not until she went to the group home, where one of the other kids saw it and said, crack baby, and everyone laughed.
Ema sighed. "So many difficult lives you've lived, my Lia-girl."
Liana had bad days sometimes, and maybe this was one of them. "Lyuda was mean," she whispered, and tried to cover up before she stood.
Ema wrapped her in a big towel. "I know," she murmured. "And I am so sorry she hurt you."
"We were homeless."
She nodded and dried Liana's hair with another towel. "I know, baby."
"We slept on the beach and in the park. We got bitten by a lot of bugs." She wanted to bite her tongue. "And I got a rash once because it was so hot."
She wanted to throw up; Ema wasn't supposed to know these things. She pulled Liana close again, and now they shared the scent of her honey soap. "Tell me more, my lioness."
Liana shivered. The air conditioning was colder than usual. Saba probably turned it down. "Sometimes we stayed in shelters but Lyuda didn't like them. She said Screamers could get us."
Ema tugged a soft striped pajama top over Liana's head, pausing to untangle her hair. "Who?"
"Bad guys."
"Hmmm," Ema said. She gathered Liana's hair and wrapped it once around her hand. "And they are dangerous?"
She nodded. "They're scary."
Ema's breathing changed. "And did any of them hurt you?"
Liana bit her lip. "No," she said. Why did she feel like she was lying?
"I wish things had been different for you," Ema said. Her raspy voice was tight. She stopped and licked the stitches in her lip. "But if they had been, then you might not be here and I do not know if I could imagine my life without you." She cocked her head. "I could, yes, but it would be...incomplete. Lonely. And I feel terrible for saying that."
Liana hugged her. She didn't want it to be another way, even if Lyuda quit those drugs. She wasn't warm like Ema, or soft. She didn't talk nicely. She didn't kiss Liana's cheek and pull down the quilt and say, "In, my girl. There are dark moons under your beautiful eyes."
She got in. The sheets were cool and soft. She used to sleep on a bed of trash bags and wake sweating and hungry. Her birthmother's pinched, angry face appeared and Liana pressed her fingers over her eyes. Stop, she commanded. You are supposed to be gone.
Ema clicked off the lamp. The nightlight glowed red through Liana's eyelids. "Laila tov, my baby," she whispered.
Daddy was there, too. He put his big hand on her head. "Buonanotte, principessa."
They played this game every night, but tonight was no good. Liana had to make sure Ema didn't have a seizure. She had to make sure Saba was there and Daddy would clean up. "No," she started, but Ema hushed.
Daddy sang, goodnight sweetheart, well it's time to go.
"No," she said again. Was Saba there? Would he stay up?
"Laila tov, my lioness."
Liana's arms were heavy. Were her hands bad fists like Ema's? She tried to look. Ema shushed over and over. Sha, baby.
And Daddy sang and sang:
I hate to leave you but I really must say.
Goodnight, sweetheart. Goodnight.
. . . .
Tony stumbled out of the shower and barely remembered to snag a towel. He brushed his teeth hard enough to draw blood and examined his face in the mirror; no razor-cuts, and the dark circles would probably disappear with his second cup of coffee.
He wrapped a towel-skirt and made his way into the walk-in. No suit; his dry-clean-only days ended when he became a father. He threw on trousers and a button-down, and nearly jumped out of both of them when a small cough came from beneath the rack. He ran a hand over his face, schooled his features. "Liana?"
Nothing.
He peered between hangers, trying not to startle her. "Lee-lee? C'mon out, sweetheart."
She coughed again. "Are you dressed?"
"Yeah. How long you been in here?"
"I didn't see."
"Wasn't worried about that."
Liana climbed out from between her mother's winter clothes, hair staticky and tangled, face sleep-creased. SHe blinked her wet, worried eyes. "Is Ema ok?"
Tony forewent the tie. "She's asleep. Ya ok?"
She nodded and craned her neck toward the bedroom. "I heard her throwing up."
Which time? he wondered. "Yeah, she was feeling pretty gross, but she'll be better today or tomorrow."
Liana still didn't look at him. "Did you give her Compazine? That makes nausea go away. I know we have it—I saw when Saba go—"
He crouched and took both of her hands in his. They were small and sweaty. Her cuffs had been chewed. "Hey," he said softly. "Look at me, Lee-lee." She did, but dropped her gaze immediately. He touched her cheek. "Do you feel scared right now?"
She didn't look up. "Yeah."
"Are you worried that Ema is going to...ya know, disappear?"
Her bottom lip trembled. She crossed her arms, and Tony almost gasped; was she really so little? "Lee-lee," he cooed. "Ema is not going to leave you." She shifted toward him and leaned on his knee. He drew her down to sit on his lap. "Your mom is one tough cookie, kiddo. Some flu isn't going to take her out."
"She fell," Liana whispered.
"And she'll probably do it again. She's wobbly even though she just sits around all day."
She humored him, gave a tiny smile that didn't reach her eyes. They were more golden than his. A little more like Ziva's. She'd be proud to know that. "My..." she began, but stopped and swallowed. Her fingers grazed her throat. "Lyuda was mean."
Liana never referred to her birthmother as anything but her first name. Tony hugged her tight, propped his chin on her head. Her hot head. Was that flu making the rounds? "I'm sorry, Lee-lee. I wish she'd known not to hurt you."
"She would tease me," she continued, voice small. "She would say we were going to move to an apartment but we wouldn't."
Keep talking, he pleaded silently. Let it out, kid.
"Or she would take me to a shelter, but then she would wake me up in the night and we would leave. She was afraid that the other people would steal her stuff or hurt us."
Paranoia, likely narcissism. Drug-induced? Lyuda had been a user. "That wasn't fair."
"We slept in the park or by the beach. There were so many bugs. I got a rash and a headache and someone said it was from mosquito bites."
Tony frowned. Malaria? Dengue? Yellow fever? The pediatrician didn't know for sure. He kissed her brow. "Does your head hurt now?"
Liana hesitated, nodded. "A little."
"You're warm."
She relaxed against him. He snuggled her tightly, put his mouth against her hair. It was thick and soft and hung nearly to her waist. Was that her Russian blood, or something else?
"Lyuda was mean when I got sick." Tony waited, straining to hear as though she was very far away. "Once we were eating lunch at the big church. I threw up and she yelled at me in front of everyone. I was embarrassed."
"I'll bet," he agreed. "That wasn't fair for her to do that. You were only little."
"I was four."
Four. The year she'd been abandoned on the steps of that firehouse in the Everglades. How long had they walked from Miami to get there? "A baby," he said.
Liana turned to him, eyes dark and furious. "I was not."
"You are so brilliant, Li, and brave and wise, but a four-year-old is a baby and no one should leave a baby on the steps of a fire station in the middle of the night. Alone."
She was quiet for a long time. So was he. "She took my shoelace," she said softly. "And she tied one side to my wrist and the other side to the door handle. And then kissed me and said she had to go."
Tony bit the inside of his cheek. Don't you cry, DiNozzo.
"She never kissed me before that."
His eyes burned.
"But she kissed me that time and then I never, ever saw her again."
He buried his face against her neck. She had soft, babyish skin. Ziva used some organic soap in her bath and she always smelled like honey and lavender. "What happened after that, sweetheart?"
One thin shoulder rose. "I had to wait a long time for someone to come."
"How long?" His voice was rough.
"Until it was really hot."
"Then what happened?"
"A fireman took me inside and gave me juice. A paramedic made sure I was ok. And then a social worker came from the city to take me to a shelter for kids until they did all the paperwork and went to court and stuff."
He sat on the floor, cross-legged, and pulled her down with him. "How long did you stay there?"
She blinked and chewed her lip. "I don't remember. A few days, I think."
He couldn't let go of her. "Was it awful?"
Liana shrugged. "I was really hungry and they gave me a lot of food."
"Mm." Her growth was stunted. He'd seen the doctor's notes—lack of proper nutrition pre-and post-natal. 12-18 mo. grow. retardation. Endo. funct. normal. Development normal. Gifted, anxious.
She twisted to look at his face. "Do you think she's really dead?"
"I don't know," he admitted.
She turned again to put her head on his shoulder. "The judge said she was, but no one found her."
Tony couldn't believe the next question out of his own mouth. "Want me to check it out?"
She shook her head. "Please don't go to Florida."
"I can have Abby do a few quick searches from the lab. No travel."
She nodded uncertainly. "Ok." She frowned. "Do you think my dad was a trick?"
He about swallowed his tongue. "I don't know, little lioness."
"I don't want to be some stupid trick's baby."
"You're not, Lee-lee. You're our baby."
Her frown deepened. "I wish I lived in Ema's belly and not Lyuda's."
"Me, t—" He began, but Ziva called from the bed.
"Tony?"
Liana's pale face lit up. She leapt from his arms and bolted to the bedside. "Ema! Do you feel better?"
"I feel better anytime I see you, Lia-girl." She kissed her head. "You need Tylenol and I need to use the bathroom. Can I have a moment please?"
Liana nodded. Ziva held out her arms to Tony, and he transferred her easily into the waiting wheelchair. She hung on tight and looked nearly as pale as she had in the hospital.
"Need help?" he offered.
She pecked him on the cheek. "Where is Abba?"
"Here," he said, stalking in. He smelled like grass and water sealant. Probably slapped another coat on the new deck before the sun could dry it on the roller. "C'mon, Ziver. Hit the head."
She cast an urgent glance at Tony. "Get her Tylenol, please."
He did, measured out precisely the dosage Liana required, and returned to find her sitting alone in the bed, holding the blankets near her face. "Didn't mean for everyone to bail on you," he apologized. Did she look worse than before? "Here. This will help with the headache."
She took it without making a face. "Please don't tell Ema what I said."
"Maybe you should."
She averted her eyes. "Maybe."
He bent low, kissed the crown of her head. "You're not going to break her, Lee-lee. I have to go to work. I want you to eat something and rest. No camp."
She rubbed her eyes and yawned. "Ema said I didn't have to go anymore."
He almost groaned aloud. "Tell me about that when I come home. I love you. Feel better, my lioness."
He kissed her head one last time, poured a travel mug of coffee, and snagged his keys and go-bag from the hallway bench. Outside, the air was cool. Fall was coming. Only a few weeks remained until his daughter would wait for the school bus at the end of their drive, lunch in hand, only to ride away to second grade, multiplication, playground politics. Please, he asked, unlocking the charger. Let her get her sea legs by then.
He got his bag in the trunk only to hear the front door bang open. Liana careened across the lawn barefoot and in her little-girl pajamas. She wrapped herself around his legs. "I love you, Daddy," she said. "Have a good day."
He hugged her back. She smiled up at him, and dashed away, pausing to wave from the porch. "Bye!" she called. "Bye! I love you!"
Tony pulled into the street and waved and waved and waved.
. . . .
Liana and Ema read Little House in the Big Woods together. They read about slaughtering the pig and Pa shooting the deer. They read about the smokehouse and the dance and about churning butter. Churning. That's what Liana's stomach did when she turned over to find a cool spot in her parents' big bed. Her hand brushed the sharp Velcro on Ema's hand splint and she pulled back fast.
Too late. Ema sighed. Her eyes opened a tiny bit. "Lia?"
"Hi," she whispered. Her throat burned.
Ema clucked. "My poor sick buba. I am so sorry."
"I'm ok," she tried to say, but the words stuck like peanut butter in her throat. Peanut butter. Ew. Her stomach made more noises.
Ema sat up. She sorta hung in the air. Her head bobbed around. "Are you going to throw up, baby?"
No, she wanted to say, but there was a hot rush in her chest and then bubbling in the back of her throat. Ema locked her forearms under Liana's armpits and dragged her across the bed to hang her head over the edge. There was a bucket below. Liana was careful to puke only inside it. Good, she thought when nothing splashed on the bed or night table. Only a little mess to clean up later.
Ema put her hot hand on Liana's head. "That's right, buba. You get it all out."
Liana heaved again, embarrassed. "I'm sorry," she said, and her voice sounded so awful. She slithered off the bed and stood. Her knees wobbled. Don't fall, Stupid. "I'm sorry, Ema."
"Sha, now," she replied, and nudged the bucket aside. She swung her legs out.
Liana reached out with one hand and wiped her face with the other. "No! Wait for Saba! You can get hurt, Ema!"
She tossed her sleep-splints aside and hopped into her chair. She had to stop and close her eyes. "Sha, Liana," she shushed. "Sha. It is fine. I am ok, but I am worried about you. Let's clean you up and find fresh fig'ma'ot, yes?" She held her arms out. "Climb up, my wobbly fawn."
Liana held her breath. Wasn't Ema angry? "I'm ok," she fumbled.
She leaned forward, snagged her pajama shirt, and pulled her close. "No, you will come with me. I am your ema. Now climb up, please."
Ema's skin was warm beneath her pajamas and she felt her body lean in as though it had a mind of it's own. Liana had always had a mind of her own. Was that why Lyuda had walked away?
She settled. Ema pulled her hair aside and kissed one of the scars on her nape. "There," she cooed like Liana was a baby. "Now it is time for clean PJs."
Ema took them both across the hall. Liana's shades were still drawn. She left them that way and went straight for the dresser. "Open the drawer, please. Let's find something else because you have sweated through what you are wearing. Want to pick?"
Liana had a million pajamas. She had a million of everything. Why couldn't she decide?
Ema did it for her and reached for a striped set at the very end. "Arms up," she commanded, and yanked off Liana's top, only to replace it just as quickly with the clean one. Exchanging pants required a bit of wiggling, but Ema did most of it herself and whipped them toward the hallway.
Saba met them at the island with a plate of toast and a bottle of sports drink. He offered the drink first. "Heroics?"
Ema nodded and held the bottle to Liana's mouth. "Drink, baby," she prodded. She sipped. It washed away the throw-up taste.
"Ya all right, cub?" Saba asked.
Was she? Yes. She nodded.
"Good." He put his hand on Ema's shoulder. "I'll take care of the mess. You take care of your kid."
She gave him her cheeky smile and turned back to Liana with the bottle of Gatorade. "Drink more."
Liana sipped again. Her stomach wasn't so furious now. She leaned back. Ema reached around her to the plate of toast, tore off a tiny piece, and pressed it to Liana's mouth. "Eat, my baby."
She stiffened. "I'm not—"
"Sha. Eat."
The toast was warm and squishy with butter and went down easily. Ema fed her two more pieces. Was this silly, sitting on her mother's lap, being fed like a bird? Was it stupid? Lyuda would say so. She would probably shout at Liana for being such a pest. A parazit. So ungrateful.
A strange heaviness settled over her. Her head hurt. Her stomach felt tender. Her arms were heavy, and she looked at her hands to make sure they weren't bad fists. Would they be like that ever? She hoped not and then felt bad because was it so awful to be like Ema? Maybe not.
She propped her chin on Liana's shoulder. "Are you ok?"
Yes. No. Was she still in her mother's lap?
"Lia-levi'yah," she sighed. "My baby."
Liana's heart pumped ema ema ema and then her stupid mouth opened and she blurted, "I wish I grew in your tummy and not Lyuda's."
Ema gasped.
She braced herself. You can yell, she promised silently. But please no hitting.
Ema did neither. Her hands were soft when she brushed Liana's cheek and cuddled her close-close. "My buba," she cooed. "I am so sorry your birthmother treated you badly. She hurt you and abandoned you and that is not ok. I understand why you might hate her or think you hate her, but had you been born to Daddy and me then you would be different, my Lia-girl, and I do not want you to be different. I love you the way you are."
Liana turned around, careful not to jostle too much, and wrapped both arms around her mother's neck. She buried her face beneath her dark hair and breathed in hard. Ema smelled so sweet and clean.
"You feel very different," Ema said softly.
She nodded. Her skin was prickling all over. Was it ok to cry about this?
"I know it is very hard to be different. It is hard to feel like everyone is staring."
She nodded again with her face still hidden. "Would I be like you if I was your baby?"
She felt Ema frown without having to look. "Like me? Do you mean disabled, Lia?"
Was that a dumb question? "Um, yes?"
Ema sighed. Her shoulders rose and fell and Liana snuggled in more. "No, Lia-girl. I was injured in an accident. There is no way I could pass my paralysis on to you."
The accident was the reason Ema needed a wheelchair. It was why she needed help with stuff. It was why she had that terrible, terrible seizure from the flu and germs and camp. "You fell," she said, and it sounded like she was accusing. "You fell and I thought...I thought you were going to die."
Ema stroked Liana's long hair. Maybe she would ask to cut it. "I am so sorry that happened while we were alone. I wish I could take it back."
"I thought you were going to die," she repeated. Her mouth was numb. She was crying now and probably ruining everything. "I didn't want you to die. I didn't..."she paused to gulp and catch her breath. "I didn't want to be alone again." She was throwing up again, but words this time. "Lyuda was so mean but she was better than being by myself."
Ema hummed and stroked her hair again. "Tell me more, my lioness."
Liana couldn't look at her face. "She would tease me. She would say we had a house but we didn't."
"That was cruel."
"And she would take me to a shelter but then she would make me leave after lights-out because she was afraid those people would hurt us. And then we would walk all night so she could get drugs. I never got to sleep."
"Awful. You must have been so tired all the time."
She nodded. Was it her chest that ached so much? "And we would go to a church to eat but she wouldn't let me take anything in the line. She would say she was getting food for both of us but it was always all hers." Her stomach cramped, but the toast stayed down. She cried harder yet. Why wasn't Ema angry with her? "I was so hungry."
"I know. I am so sorry. I wish someone had made sure you were eating."
"I got sick from the mosquitos."
"I know. That's why the doctor takes your blood occasionally. We need to make sure your liver and kidneys stay healthy."
It took a long time to calm down enough to breathe. Ema only stayed still-still and sometimes petted Liana's hair. She sighed. She was tired. "She left me."
Ema was quiet for a long time. "I know," she finally said.
"She tied me to the door and kissed me and left. I didn't know where she went." She sat back. Ema's face was wet like she'd been crying. "I am glad she's dead."
Ema said nothing for a long time, then she dried Liana's face with a towel and brushed crumbs away from her mouth. "Please do not say that," she chided softly. Her eyes were all over Liana—her hair, her snug PJ shirt, her face. "Please do not say that," she repeated. "She gave you life, Lia-levi'yah. You do not have to love her, but please...do not say that."
Liana cried again and squirmed to get down; she was ruining all the soft things Ema said. She would take it all back. She and Daddy would ask her to leave. Saba would pack her a bag, and then Liana would walk down their leaf-green street all the way back to Florida. All the way back to the mosquitos and dead-swamp Lyuda. All the way back to turning tricks. Liana gagged. The toast came up that time and she fell back against Ema's cabinets full of expensive pots and pans and cried and cried.
There was some commotion. She could hear Saba's voice, and then Ema's—was she crying, too?—and then she was lifted on the floor and placed in a lap. She struggled, but Ema's bad hands held her tight. Was she done crying?
Were they going to make her go? Lyuda's wasted face appeared and she gasped, only to have Saba rub her head.
"Hang on there, little wildcat. You and Mom are going back to bed."
Saba always called Ema Mom.
He ran water and Ema held a cup to her lips. She drank and drank. The cup emptied and was refilled. She drank more. Medicine was offered and she drank that, too, only to have more water appear.
"Enough," Saba said. "Don't make her sick again, Ziver."
Ema's soft voice said something back, something sharp-she didn't like to be told what to do—and then Liana was turned around and they went back down the hallway to the big bedroom.
There were clean sheets on the bed. There were always clean sheets on all of their beds.
"In," Ema urged, and gave Liana a little push. "You need to sleep. I know it."
She crawled on her hands and knees until she collapsed with her face on a pillow. Was it night? Sleeping was for nights, not days. "I don't wan—"
"In," Ema said again.
Liana would not disobey. She pulled the covers up—way up—and they was warm and soft. So were Ema's hands on hers. Weren't they still all bad fists? Ema sang softly:
Echad—mi yode'ah?
Echad—ani yode'ah.
Echad Hashem al she'mayim u'v'aretz.
That was a baby song, Liana thought. From Passover, when the Shilton boys sang it out loud and banged their spoons on the table. Everyone thought it was funny—even her-and she did not like banging.
Ema touched her hand to Liana's again.
Shnaim—mi yode'ah?
Shnaim?—ani yode'ah.
Shnaim luchot ha'brit.
Echad Hashem al she'mayim u'v'aretz.
One god in heaven? Perhaps, Liana thought. Would Lyuda make it there? Was she bad on the inside, or had it been the drugs? Maybe she was just sad and the drugs had made her feel happy. But she did terrible things, so maybe not.
Two tablets of the covenant? Brit meant "promise," Ema said. Abraham promised his son Isaac to God because he believed with his whole self. And tablets? Hadn't Moses smashed the first set because everyone was acting so terrible? Maybe they were like Lyuda, who broke her promises all the time. Ema and Daddy and Saba never broke promises. They always did what they said and Liana never felt bad. She felt bad now, though. Her head hurt. Her stomach was full of glass. So was her throat.
Arba imahot, Ema sang. She touched four fingers to Liana's.
Shlosh avot,
Shnei luchot ha'brit
Echad Hashem al she'mayim u'v'aretz.