Did they realize what a loss they’d experienced? Did they realize this was forever, this odd void they could hardly identify, being so young and clueless?

Zichron Zev.

Shira’s shy smile haunted Deena for the rest of the day. She couldn’t put her finger on what was bothering her so much. Not the fact that Shira had found a job, she wasn’t selfish like that. It wasn’t even the fact that her in-laws had inadvertently been behind it, making it sort of their fault that she’d lost her photographer. So what was it?

When her girls got home from day camp, Deena tossed their bathing suits into the washing machine and settled them on the deck with freeze pops and Play-Doh. Then she went to her office to try to get some work done.

Succos tour. Let’s do this.

Mr. Hersko had sent her an email asking when she’d do the first post about the tour. There really was no reason to push it off, except that she had to figure out the graphics and what exactly to say.

But she couldn’t focus. Unease followed her like a shadow. After a few minutes of drafting lines and deleting them, Deena slumped in her seat.

She knew what was bothering her about Shira’s new job.

It was the fact that the Lizman’s gemach had taken off — without her. She, Zev’s widow, who had nearly 33,000 people hungrily following her every sneeze, she who could have spearheaded this initiative with the click of a button, who could have helped countless people as a zechus for her husband’s neshamah.

She’d declined. Because it didn’t look good for her business. It didn’t feel comfortable to expose her vulnerability, her unfortunate status.

Ugh.

“Maaaaa!”

Miri and Nechama burst into her office. “It’s boiling outside,” Miri whined. “And we’re so bored.”

There she goes again.

No, that was a ridiculous thought. It really was a hot day. This is what happens when people start therapy. Everything becomes an issue.

“You’re right,” Deena said. “It’s very hot outside. Let’s think of an activity we can do inside.”

“What kind of activity?” Miri asked.

Deena was about to start listing all the games and crafts they had in the house — something that would keep her kids content and quiet and out of her hair so she could get back to work — but she stopped herself.

She wasn’t going to get any work done, she’d discovered as much. May as well spend some time together with her kids.

But what could they do?

The disquiet that had been sitting in her stomach since the morning shoot with Shifra grew stronger. Zichron Zev. She peered at her kids — her adorable, innocent girls. Did they realize what a loss they’d experienced? Did they realize this was forever, this odd void they could hardly identify, being so young and clueless?