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| Second Dance |

Second Dance: Chapter 3     

“So is that why you moved to Lakewood?” Mrs. Brucker asked, and Mrs. Putterman looked at her husband, as if for permission to answer

 

 

Ironically, though each of them meant to go greet the other, the residents of 105 Wimbledon Loop and 107 Wimbledon Loop didn’t end up actually saying hello until another new neighbor arrived. At nine-thirty on Tuesday morning, Chaim Brucker and Reuven Stagler came out to watch the movers unload the truck that had pulled up alongside their homes, both of them prodded by their wives to go meet the new neighbor and say shalom aleichem.

The conversation was amiable enough, if short, and it emboldened both Shaindy Brucker and Nechama Stagler to follow suit, standing on the pebbled path between the houses and smiling like old friends, perhaps extra confident because they had both been there “first,” completely moved in and unpacked before whoever the new neighbor was.

Shaindy reacted to hearing that Nechama was from Queens like most people did, by being overly familiar — Oh Queens, of course! — then struggling to find a relevant scrap of information with which to actually make the connection, since she had no siblings, mechutanim, or close friends who lived there.

But they quickly found common ground in their shared fascination with the new neighbors, the way the husband was so clearly in charge, jumping out of his car to direct the movers precisely where the couches should go. He seemed to be the in-control type, wearing an elegant suit, his tie knotted tightly at the neck, as if he was going to a simchah and not mid-move.

Both of them noticed that the new neighbor stopped the movers as they were carrying a full-length mirror down the ramp simply to check his own appearance, frowning, then squaring his shoulders.

Next to their husbands, Akiva Putterman looked young — probably the type who went to the gym, they agreed, and then rearranged their faces into wide smiles as his wife approached.

It was good the conversation had ended. Neither of them were the sort to speak lashon hara and both were sure that in time, they would find out just what fine people the new neighbors were.

Excerpted from Mishpacha Magazine. To view full version, SUBSCRIBE FOR FREE or LOG IN.

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