“Why am I not surprised,” he spat out. “I ask for no gifts, I ask that they respect our boundaries. Does anyone listen? Nope”

A

Frankel Rosh Chodesh siblings-only breakfast could be a lot, first thing in the morning. You get used to them, though.

A Frankel Rosh Chodesh breakfast after you’ve left the family chat, metaphorically speaking, was excruciating.

“Hey! You look just like my brother!” was Menashe’s witty rejoinder.

Meira was blunter. “You’re insane,” she said by way of greeting. Akiva closed his eyes and thanked Hashem that Libby wasn’t there to hear all this familial encouragement.

Donni just shook his head at him and went to wash for the fresh focaccias Camille had prepared. Donni was a simple guy: good food, good friends, good life.

Akiva admired that in his younger brother, but he also felt a strange sadness when he looked at him. It was like when you enjoy watching your child devour a doughnut, but you also know he should be eating chicken and broccoli.

“Daddy, how’s the hospital project coming along?” Meira called down the table.

Yehuda Frankel looked up from his Nespresso, face impassive. He still hadn’t acknowledged Akiva directly. “Coming along well. Of course, I’ve had to hire a new CEO, so that’s slowed down the project somewhat.”

Akiva’s siblings chortled. He looked at them, eyebrows raised. “Thank you all for being so mature. And supportive.”

Ma came in with a pitcher of lemon water. “We’re your family, of course we’re supportive.” Oh, yes, Akiva thought, because when you think Frankel, the instant word association is “supportive.”

But he said nothing, as his siblings heckled and Ma sniffed and Daddy ignored him.