I notice suddenly that we’re the only couple in the store without a baby

B

etzalel opens the door to our basement apartment just as the oven signals that supper is ready. I grin. My timing is great. I pull the pan of chicken and rice out of the oven, shut off the timer and oven, and rest the pan on the stovetop.

“Hiiii! How was yeshivah?”

“Great! And supper smells yum! Thanks, Chavy! How was work?”

“Same old.” I smile back. “Boring office day. The manager was out so everyone just klutzed around. I’m still feeling a drop unproductive, to be honest.”

Betzalel tips his head back. “So how about we go out and do something fun before supper?”

I laugh aloud. “You’re serious? Like what?”

“Um, I don’t know. Sprinkles maybe? Dessert first?”

I laugh again, then turn and pull my crossbody off the doorknob of the pantry door.

“Deal. Best idea ever.”

It’s a summer night, and the sun is still shining brightly at seven. In the ice cream shop, we order, then sit down with a cone and a razzle.

“I would have never thought of this, Betzalel. But it’s really nice.”

The ice cream shop buzzes around us; women walk in pushing strollers, kids ponder over the various options at the ordering counter. I notice suddenly that we’re the only couple in the store without a baby.