The Yiddish Gangster's Daughter (A Becks Ruchinsky Mystery Book 1) by Joan Cochran (popular books of all time .txt) 📗

though, and I’m afraid he’ll make Daniel’s and my problems his own. Gabriel sends funny emails—the closest he comes to expressing affection. But it’s not like having a sister to confide in. Esther and I have shared a lifetime and know we can count on each other to get through the rough patches.

When Esther’s youngest was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s lymphoma at eight, I flew to Greensboro for a week at a time so she and Bruce could put all their energy into Ariel’s medical care. My friend Aviva lived next door at the time, thank goodness, so she kept Josh and Gabriel until Daniel got home from the office. It seems so unfair that this is happening to Esther after what she’s been through. Daniel loves her almost as much as I do so I know he’ll do everything he can to help her.

Daniel’s an early riser so the next morning at seven, I dial his apartment. As anxious as I am to set things up for Esther, I’m uncomfortable making the call. I chew my nails as I wait for him to answer. For a fleeting second, I wonder if he’s alone.

He picks up on the third ring. “Becks? Is everything okay?” My heart leaps at the familiar voice. He sounds concerned and surprised, but very much awake.

“I’m fine. So are the boys. It’s Esther.” I struggle to keep my voice from shaking.

“What happened?”

“She called last night.” I repeat what Esther told me.

“Did you suggest she see me?”

“She suggested it,” I lie. “Are you free this week?”

“For Esther, of course.”

A wave of relief drapes my shoulders and I settle back in my chair. Daniel will take over.

“Do you know which scans she’s had?”

“She mentioned a mammogram and ultrasound. She’s supposed to go in for a biopsy Tuesday.”

“I’ll call her before I leave for the office and set things up. Tell her to hold off on the biopsy. I’d rather she do it here. I’m pretty sure I have time Wednesday morning. Can you bring her in then?”

“Sure.” I experience a flutter of panic as I realize that Esther will expect me to go with her to his office.

He hesitates. “And, Becks, it’s been long enough already. Don’t you think we could . . .”

“I’ve got to run.” Up until now, our conversation has been civil, even warm. But I’m not ready to go any further. Hearing his voice leaves me emotionally raw and tender. “I have a lot to do before Esther arrives.”

My hand trembles as I hang up the phone.

By six that night, when I’ve promised to pick up my father for dinner, I’m exhausted. Part of it is the strain of talking to Daniel. It was a relief to hear his reassurance he’d take care of Esther. But our conversation left me feeling lonely and lost. I can’t believe it’s been a little more than two months since we separated.

I’ve survived by talking to my sister and focusing on my writing. The time away from Daniel has given me a chance to think about what I want in life. Right now, it’s the opportunity to work on the cookbook I promised myself I’d write. I’m just a few pages in, but I feel like I’ve got something solid, something other cooks will find useful. And writing it makes me feel closer to my mother, helps re-create the wonderful times we spent in the kitchen.

Tonight, though, I’ve worked myself into a state over Esther. I’m afraid of the worst—that Daniel won’t be able to help her. If the news is bad, I don’t know what I’ll do. Who I’ll confide in. I let my mind wander to Bruce and Esther’s girls and how devastated they’ll be if anything happens to Esther. I’m making myself sick with worry. And I have to honor her request not to tell my father. He and Esther haven’t talked in over a year.

“Daniel stopped by this morning,” my father says as he slides into my car at the entrance to his building. “He asked me to talk to you.” Tootsie watches me, gauging my reaction.

My face grows hot but I keep my mouth shut. I had no idea the two were in contact. I shouldn’t be surprised. Tootsie called Daniel now and then to ask medical questions and they’d remain on the phone talking about sports. They have some sort of bond I don’t understand considering how different they are. Or how different I thought they were. I don’t like the idea of Tootsie and Daniel discussing our breakup and feel betrayed by my dad’s willingness to talk to him.

It’s November and, despite the early hour, the city is entering the shadowy netherworld of twilight. The few souls walking along the sidewalk appear as black-and-white ghosts floating between pools of light thrown off by streetlamps. The sky grows darker as we head down Biscayne Boulevard and the lights spanning the condominium towers across the bay form a wall of twinkling stars.

“So what did Daniel want?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“He wanted me to talk to you about getting back together. He regrets what he did and misses you.”

“And you believe him?”

“Of course I do. He’s a good man. He cheated on you once. That’s not something you end a marriage over.”

I glance at Tootsie and he looks away. He must know by now how little I respect his advice on marriage. His affairs destroyed his relationship with my mother and turned her into a bitter person. I won’t let that happen to me. I never told Tootsie how witnessing his treatment of my mother prevented me from trusting Daniel or any other man for a long time. I debate bringing it up, but don’t. I doubt my father would understand.

“I know what I’m doing,” I say, struggling to keep the anger out of my voice. “You and Mom worked things out your way. I can take care of my own marriage.”

He shrugs. Then he looks out the window and back