"I don’t need a chavrusa, and I for sure don’t need a big talmid chacham like him, I’m happy to go to a shiur"

Chaim paced up and down his new backyard as he spoke on the phone. It wasn’t much bigger than the one in Kensington, but it was like a different planet. Back in Brooklyn, a huge, knotted old apple tree had taken up too much space in their little backyard, blocking the sun from a disheveled patch of grass surrounded on all sides by cracked concrete. It seemed like every week, one of the kids had skinned a knee over there and needed Band-Aids. There was a gap in the bushes that opened into the backyard of the Italian prizefighter with all the cats, Mario, and Succos had always been a weeklong exercise of trying to keep the cats out of the succah without offending their owner.

Years ago, Heshy and Nussi had built a clubhouse and there were still nails sticking out of the boards leaning against the back of the house. Chaim and Shaindy had always discussed getting rid of the boards, but then they would remember the eineklach and how much fun the clubhouse could be for them, if they could only rebuild it.

The new owners had smiled politely at the memories Shaindy Brucker shared, and had their workers cart the boards directly to the garbage, clearly not that interested in seeing the old clubhouse reassembled.

Here in Lakewood, small white pebbles neatly filled the space between concrete pavers and a brand new patio set, installed by the developers, sat in the shadow of the fresh cedar wood fence. Chaim wanted to sink into the inviting thick white cushion with its yellow stripes, but something Heshy had said caused him to stop walking and grab hold of the fence post, just to steady himself. It was a dramatic move, something he was not prone to, but Heshy had succeeded in shocking him.

Chaim was the calm parent, and even when he wasn’t, he’d long ago learned to keep his voice steady and composed. Getting excited only increased the tension, he always said.

“I hear,” he said, not completely sure what Heshy meant. Maybe his son would repeat it.

“Yah, like, until you were in Lakewood, it wasn’t that nogeia for us,” Heshy obliged. “But now that you’re there, it’s kedai for us to try. It’s like an eis ratzon. It’s where I feel like we would do well, and you have enough space, from what I hear, that a room isn’t a big deal. The main thing for us is yishuv hadaas, and if we don’t have the stress right away of rent, of deciding on a place, vechuloi vechuloi, it can make a huge difference for us.”

Chaim was quiet. Shaindy would have a hard time with this.