“Esther Goldstein said. “I’m telling you it’s nothing.” “I’m sure it isn’t, Ma,” Barty said, as the cab sped across town toward Eastern. “I’m sure it isn’t, but you’ve been having those pains for two days now and you know about your heart condition.” “I don’t believe this,” Esther said, knocking the peacock feather away from her face. “I get to Bloomingdale’s twice a year and my worrywart son is rushing me off to the emergency room of a hospital. I mean, oy—” She didn’t finish the last sentence.... The pain had intensified and was shooting up and down her left arm. She felt short-circuited. But mostly, even as she suffered from her heart, Esther Goldstein’s main sensation was one of embarrassment. She had come to show them how she had survived, by God. She had come to be an object lesson for Barty who was prematurely aging and had started to play it safe full time. And now, oh God, the pain was getting worse. Perhaps she should have listened to Dr.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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