But now, as the other girls chimed in with Tehilla, her heart went out to her roommate. Still, there was no way Rusi would let ZeeZee pay for her skiing.

ZeeZee glanced down at the paper in her hands. She’d worked hard to put together an awesome trip.

But… a vision of Ilana’s sneering face in the Yad b’Yad center suddenly rose in her mind, accusing her of using them, of not being a genuine friend. She took a breath.

“You know what, guys? I changed my mind. Rusi’s right; it’s a lot more fun to chill here. We can go skiing anytime.”

Miriam’s mouth dropped open, and Tehilla squealed, “Whaat?”

Ignoring her, ZeeZee plopped onto the lounge chair next to Rusi and folded her arms behind her head. “Hey, if we relax today, we’ll have more energy for our mountain climbing tomorrow. Besides, the timing would have been tight. It’s an hour trip from here to the Hermon, and we need time to get ready for the chasunah.”

“Chasunah?” Six pairs of eyes stared at her.

“Eight tonight, in Tzfas. A German giyores and a Brazilian BT. Coolest wedding ever.”

Tammy shuffled into the kitchen. Yehuda would be home soon; she should really make dinner. After all, the poor guy had eaten cereal and milk the past two nights, while she’d moped in bed.

There wasn’t much in the fridge; she hadn’t left the house in the past few days. The dorms had emptied out for Chanukah break, and Rabbi Freund had given her off as well.

She found a bag of pasta in the cabinet. Gourmet supper, here we come.

Yehuda’s eyes brightened when he came in and found her sitting at the kitchen table.

“Good to see you up and about.”

Tammy winced at the heartiness in his voice. Was she that pathetic?

“And look! Dinner! What a treat!”

Yes, clearly, she was. “It’s only mac ’n cheese,” she said.

“Anything you make is…”

“…better than a bowl of cereal, yeah.”

Yehuda’s lips twitched as he sat down next to her. Hesitantly, he said, “Does this mean I can ask what happened?”

Tammy ran her finger along her cup, not sure how to answer. She still didn’t feel like talking about this; the only one she spoke to was Shimmy, when the two of them were alone together.

“Know something, little guy? Mommy’s a failure. A big, fat failure.”

Now, watching the way Yehuda’s eyebrows were creased in concern, she appreciated how patient he’d been with her, how respectful of her need for space. But would he still respect her when he knew what she’d done? Or would he tell her “I told you so”?

She took a breath and squeezed out the mortifying words. “I was put on probation.”

Yehuda stiffened, then nodded slowly. “What happened?”

She looked down at her plate. “What happened is that I managed to mess up badly after only four months on the job. Must be a record, huh?” she muttered. “And here I’d been stupid enough to think I could actually be a hotshot…”

“What happened?” Yehuda repeated.

She shrugged. “I told you, I messed up. What does it matter how?”

He threw her an odd look, and Tammy realized how childish that sounded.

Just spit it out. “Fine, they’re upset at me because I took too much into my own hands with Shani.”

“Mmm.”

Tammy frowned at his non-answer. “You think they’re right. Well, what was I supposed to do when the girl kept telling me how badly she needed to speak to me? Slam the door in her face?”

Yehuda said, “No, you were doing a great job with her.”

Tammy looked at him suspiciously. Was he being sarcastic? After all, she knew what he’d thought of all her late-night schmooze sessions.

Yehuda quickly continued, “What made them stir this up now?”

Tammy swallowed. “She fainted.”

She heard the sharp intake of breath — and all at once, her mind was seeing something else.

Shani. Her frail body on the white hospital sheets. Attached to an IV. Her big eyes pleading, her cold hand reaching out to grasp Tammy’s, thanking her for coming to visit, for everything…

I could have killed her.

It was like a massive tidal wave had been unleashed, as the bald truth suddenly stared her in the face. She clenched the table, trying to steady herself.

“It’s my fault that Shani’s in the hospital.”

Yehuda shook his head.

“It is,” she whispered. “I… I should have known to refer her to a professional, but instead, I let her keep coming to me with all her problems.” Her voice began to wobble. “I kept telling everyone it was fine, that I had it under c-control.” Her throat constricted, and she couldn’t continue.

Yehuda’s eyebrows puckered. “Who did you tell?”

She sniffed. “Rabbi Freund, Mrs. Edelman, the social worker.”

“Wait a second,” he said slowly. “All these experienced professionals knew there was a problem, and they chose to just take your word for it?”

She stared at him.

“And this is why Rabbi Freund’s firing you?” he continued indignantly.

She wiped her eyes. “He’s not firing me.”

“You said you were on probation.” Yehuda narrowed his eyes. “Doesn’t that mean one more strike and you’re out?”

“Nooo, that’s not what he said.” Tammy blushed. “He’s assigning another staff member to supervise me.” Her face darkened as the indignity came back. “To check my every move and make sure I don’t mess up again.”

Tammy watched Yehuda process this. It was clear what he was thinking — this was what she was being such a big baby about? She clenched her fingers. Would he understand how humiliating this was for her?

At last, Yehuda cleared his throat. “Tam, remember the Steinberg bris?”

Tammy caught her breath.

There’d been no way for the Steinbergs to know, when they’d asked the Hurwitzes to be kvatters, that Tammy had just gotten bad news from the fertility clinic the day before. She’d cried the entire night, and refused to go to the bris the next morning. Why subject herself to the whispers? “Kvatter, nebach, married five years and still no children.”

Tammy looked at Yehuda. “Of course.”

Yehuda had sat with her that night. He hadn’t told her to be strong, or that they needed to have bitachon. Instead, he’d cried with her.

It was the first time she’d seen her husband’s tears; the first time she’d understood how deeply they shared this pain. They spoke about how embarrassment was a state of mind. If she carried herself proudly, no one else would view her as a nebach, either.

She’d brought that baby into his bris with her head held high, and when she handed him to Yehuda, he gave her a wink.

Now, her eyes filled with tears as she looked at her husband. “Yehuda, you do get it.” She felt her mouth crack its first smile since Shani fainted.

How had she forgotten how rock solid her husband was?

to be continued…

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 752)