Shuki looked down at his waffle. “It’s fine,” he mumbled. “It’s a job. I’ve gotta do something, right?”

Dini leaned back in her chair and gazed around at the young American kollel couples filling Waffle Bar’s tables.

“Remember when we used to be like that?” she asked Shuki.

He wiped some whipped cream off the corner of his mouth. (Back when they were dating, he’d told her that eating a triple scoop Belgian waffle for breakfast without gaining an ounce was one of his superpowers; after 13 years, she had to jealously admit that he was right.)

“Like what?” he asked.

“Like those cute young couples going out for a Friday morning date.” She nodded toward the pair sitting closest to them.

He assumed a mock hurt expression. “Aren’t we a cute young couple going out for a Friday morning date?”

Dini grinned. “Maybe I’m still young, but you’re pushing forty, mister.”

Shuki pretended to flick some whipped cream at her. “I’ve got another four years until I hit my midlife crisis, thank you very much.”

“You? Midlife crisis? I’ve got to see that!” Dini said it teasingly, but she meant it. Yes, his hair was starting to thin, but in many ways, she still saw her husband as the young, cool yeshivah bochur she’d married. She couldn’t even picture a middle-aged Shuki.

“Oh, I’m gonna do it spectacularly,” he assured her, stretching his arms behind his head. “I’ll buy myself an ugly sports car that will shock all our Yerushalmi neighbors, quit my job, and go play guitar in the band of some new twenty-year-old singing sensation.”

Dini burst out laughing. Yes, he was a riot, her husband, but she couldn’t help wondering how much truth there was behind his facetiousness. “So, you plan to quit working for your father?” she asked casually as she took a sip of her yogurt shake.

Shuki’s lighthearted grin faded slightly. “That was a joke, Din. I don’t even play guitar.”

“I know. I was just wondering—” Blushing, she took another sip. “I mean, I was never sure how happy you were with your job.”

Shuki looked down at his waffle. “It’s fine,” he mumbled. “It’s a job. I’ve gotta do something, right?”