My phone rang, and I sighed when I saw Nellie's name. Usually when she calls it's for some emergency, such as running out of face cream or being afraid that I'll cut myself on a hypothetical mirror in my purse. Because of this, I always answer her calls with a little trepidation...but I answer, because otherwise she'll work herself into a tizzy and assume that I'm dead.
There was a sort of confused silence on the other end of the line. I tried again. "Hello, Nellie? Are you there? How are you?"
Finally she responded. "Oh, yes, ummmm..." I waited, wondering if she had forgotten what she wanted to say.
"Yes? What do you need?" I prompted.
And she began to speak, slowly, as if she were reading or reciting. "My dear Jessica, I want to congratulate you on your birthday! I wish you love and health and success and all the best."
If smiles were audible, she could have heard mine through the phone. It was a traditional Russian birthday wish, such as I hadn't heard in...well, far too many years. "Oh, thank you!" I told her.
I could almost hear her own smile in reply. "Did I say it right?" she asked happily. Oh, yes. Perfectly right.
