Eva looked around the den, the kids had shattered a vase, spilled chocolate milk on the white rug, and that was fine, Eva was okay, they were just objects, but the loss of her time and patience was challenging. When would her son be home?

“Bobby, Bobby,” Racheli was calling as Clarissa put on her socks. “Read a book to me.”

Eva knew the right answer, everyone knew what the right answer was. This was a privilege as a grandparent, count your blessings and all that, but right now she wasn’t feeling it.

“Sure.” Racheli came in for a hug. These kids, they melt your heart while eating you alive.

“H

ow you doing?” Ephraim asked. He seemed calm, living his best life, stretched out in his chair, sun setting behind him.

“Good,” she replied, taking a bite of her gnochetti.

They were eating al fresco on their private terrace. The hotel had warmed their double-wrapped meal from Shallots so they had the best of both worlds: good kosher food and privacy.

“What’s up? You’re quiet.” Effie didn’t seem concerned, more like he was just making conversation, so Shira shrugged.

“Just enjoying the quiet, haven’t been without the kids since forever.”

“Now that we’re living by Mommy, maybe this can happen more often. There’s always someone around.”

Shira raised a brow. “You’re gonna be in law school, remember?”

“There’s spring break, we have a bein hazmanim too.”

Shira chuckled at the comparison, then stopped abruptly. “Yeah, but I’m not sure Mommy would love that.”

“What do you mean?” Ephraim sounded genuine, like he really couldn’t understand the problem.

“I dunno, I just have this feeling.” Shira shrugged, and took a sip of Peach Snapple.

Ephraim stiffened. “Feeling?” he prompted.

But Shira couldn’t really articulate it herself, there was just… something, a lack of interest and involvement. She couldn’t really give examples of it — she felt it somewhere in her gut.

“Never mind,” Shira was gesturing too strongly now. “Just, like, she has a schedule, she’s busy. This is a big change in dynamics for her.” She shifted to sit straight in her seat. “I was listening to the Marriage Mastery podcast and it said that every kid makes the family new, every trip, every supper with one kid away is a new family, and we can take advantage of that, or it can really be challenging.”

“I hear, I hear.” Ephraim rubbed his face; he didn’t seem to have the capacity for a discussion. “The kids seemed fine when we called them.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Shira agreed. The kids seemed fine, but she wasn’t sure about her mother-in-law.

They fell quiet.

“What’s up?” Ephraim started up again after he’d eaten a few more bites of his meal. “You’re not even humming a song under your breath.”

She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t really know what she wanted to say and how she felt. There were just too many concerns entangled like a knotted necklace you shove back into your jewelry box — the kids, law school, the future, their living arrangements.

“What’s our plan?” she blurted.

“Plan? Eat, walk, sleep? Didn’t you want to go to Main Street Village, whatever it’s called, tomorrow?”

“No.” Shira waved her hand. “Y’know, like… life.”

“Life?” Ephraim guffawed. “Who knows? We’re here now. We’re gonna do Chicago and law school for the next three years. What’s your question?”

“What comes afterward?” Shira leaned forward, pleading.

“Who knows?” Ephraim shrugged easily. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” He paused. “What are you really asking?”

Shira took a deep breath and tried again. “It’s just Chicago, and everything’s new, and I don’t know what I’m doing, or what we’re doing. Or what will be. And we’re having a baby.”

“I just told you — three years.” He was losing patience.

“And after?”

“Who knows, Shira?” He sounded exasperated. “Isn’t three years long enough to plan something?”

But where would they live, and three years of new friends, and Yom Tov, and winters, and what if they stayed? Shira opened her mouth, then closed it. She still didn’t know what to say, still couldn’t articulate the stiffness in her chest.

“Whatever. Ready for dessert?” Shira switched the topic.

Later, after Ephraim fell asleep, she wandered from their suite to the lobby, and from there to the beach. It was cliched, but there was something in the water that drew her and calmed her.

What would Coach Mendy say if she asked a question on his live show?

He’d say she was anxious, was over-planning, needed to have bitachon, and that she should talk to her husband. She had tried, but he didn’t hear it. Ephraim was so happy to be home again. She was the only one navigating a new experience, and the experience was isolating. She was alone. That made her eyes well.

When they’d moved to Israel after they got married, the actual living experience — shopping, renting, bureaucracy — was something they faced together. They were frustrated and excited at the same new things. Having a partner in something new made everything tolerable.

Was that it? It seemed too simple an explanation for the nausea at the base of her throat that was more than the morning sickness and exhaustion.

She looked around. She was past the Westin’s properties and on the next resort’s beachfront. She should turn around, walk in the other direction. The firm sugar sand of Hilton Head allowed her to break into an easy jog.

Was she scared of having a kid in Chicago? That was dumb, there were good doctors and hospitals there. She wished she had someone to ask about which doctor was best, but her mother-in-law just didn’t seem the type. Was she plain old lonely? Was that it? Loneliness was workable, she could do this.

She started jogging faster, excited in her ability to psychoanalyze herself. Ephraim rolled his eyes every time she said, “I heard on a podcast…” but this was real, she just had to put together a non-lonely plan to keep herself busy, make friends, learn the neighborhood and all that stuff.

She came back to the room with a runner’s high. Ephraim mumbled in his sleep.

“Go back to sleep,” she whispered.

“Dolphin watching tomorrow,” Ephraim mumbled.

“Sure, whatever. I’m game for everything, go back to sleep.”

It was going to be good. No, it was already good. She just had to see it.

to be continued…

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 800)