A quick cup of water — you do this every day, but it’s a new experience for them, they just gave birth — and she was on her way down.

At the door to the lobby, she paused, bracing herself. Maybe these mommies would be a little forgiving? Surely, the magnificent lobby decor would have an effect on their frazzled nerves. The inlaid textured paint on the ceiling, bordered by LED lighting; the sweet scent diffusers; the sound of their shoes tapping on the gleaming porcelain floor. Really, just picturing themselves sinking into those inviting sofas….

Yeah, sure. Really. These women were undoubtedly too riled about their rooms to care about Akeres’s beauty. She had a job to do.

She waved her electronic key necklace over the pad near the door and entered.

“Hi, hello!” she greeted the mothers warmly. “I’m Leebie Herzog. Mazel tov and welcome.”

Maybe, if she acted all nice and calm, the double-booking nightmare would resolve itself?

Turned out, Shayna had finalized the room plans when they’d checked in, deciding which guest would get the much-coveted private room. Leebie was left to lead one relieved-but-guilty-looking and one downright glum woman on a tour of the premises and then escort them to their rooms.

After the first woman was settled in her private room, Leebie lingered in the hallway with the troubled woman — a Frumet Donenbaum — outside her much undesired double room. One look at her face, and Leebie realized that making everyone happy was going to take work.

Okay, step one: validation.

“I know how upsetting this is for you,” Leebie told the pale woman in the hallway gently. “You came here knowing you’re getting a private room, and now this.”

The woman — who no longer had her husband at her side and was left to her own hormone-riddled devices — seemed to calm down somewhat.

Three loud beeps sounded over the PA system, and a recorded voice came on, announcing feeding time in the nursery. Mothers started trickling in from around the building to the feeding room.

“Your baby doesn’t need to eat now, right?” Leebie asked.

The woman shook her head.

Leebie flicked back the short hairs of her sheitel, trying to stand at her full height, which barely amounted to five feet.

“Okay, listen, Frumet,” she said. “We’re going to try to make this work. First, I’m sure you know the advantage of this shared room? It’s right next to the nursery. And it’s cheaper, obviously. In case that changes things for you….”

Points for this mother; she was making every effort to hold it together rather than attacking Leebie, which, for a kimpeturin, would be forgivable. But at the same time, she was edgy — and unrelenting.

Frumet leaned against the wall, as though for support. “I can’t share a room,” she said, blinking back tears. “I’m after a C-section….”

Oh. Okay, deep breath. She could point out that the private room she’d just forfeited was on the third floor, which meant two flights down to the dining room on Shabbos, but if this mother was post C-section, logic wouldn’t be her thing. This was trickier than she’d thought.

Leebie opened her guest portal on the tablet she carried around with her and clicked on Rooms. So no, none of the private rooms had miraculously become vacant over the last ten minutes, not on the second and not on the third floor. This was one of Akeres’s “full” weeks, with every last room taken. Time for Plan B.

“So here are our options. I’m going to check who’s leaving tomorrow, so we can transfer you to a private room then. You’d only be in this room for one night.”

Frumet Donenbaum shook her head.

Grr.

“The second option—”

The nursery door — just behind the two of them and conveniently next to the undesired double room Frumet Donenbaum was refusing to enter — burst open, and Ita Kratz slammed her palms together. “Leebie!”

Oh no, not you. Not now.

“Hi, Ita,” Leebie said to the head nurse crisply. “Do you need help with something?”

“I don’t,” Ita said, sardonically. “But I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be in your office now.”

“What?”

“Perl Breuer is looking for you.”

Automatically, Leebie pulled out her phone. Ita was right: She had two missed calls from her boss. “Looks like my ringer was off,” she explained.

Ita nodded wordlessly. Leebie waited for her to return to the nursery, but the head nurse didn’t budge. She stood in the hallway, hands clasped together, waiting expectantly for Leebie to scamper off.

Leebie glanced at Frumet’s distraught face and slowly closed her tablet case.

“Ita… give me a few minutes here. I’ll talk to Perl soon.”

Ita twirled the ginormous sunflower ring on her finger. “Perl’s waiting. She needs you in the office, and I believe it’s important. Maybe continue schmoozing later?”

Heat rose over Leebie’s face. “I—”

Awkwardly, she turned to the frustrated mother. “Uh, look, Frumet. Why don’t you go grab something to eat from the tea room now? You must be hungry. I’m going to think of a way to work things out.”

This was pathetic. It was her duty to straighten out this issue. Perl would expect her to do so. She wanted every guest at Akeres to be 100 percent satisfied.

But Ita’s towering presence was making it impossible to continue their conversation.

“Okay,” Frumet said tersely.

“And maybe…” Leebie added, “take my number. You can call me if you need help with anything.”

Ita was still standing near the nursery door as the woman trudged off. “I’m just curious, Leebie, do you do that with all mothers? Share your personal number?”

Leebie’s throat tightened.

The problem with Ita was that she — of all the people in the world — had made Yehudis’s shidduch. With that unbelievable stroke of luck, she’d triumphantly earned Leebie’s indebtedness and never missed an opportunity to rub it in.

And Leebie truly would remain forever grateful.

But at that moment, all she wanted to do was thrust the shards of the broken engagement plate in the head nurse’s bemused face.

W

hatever the emergency had been, Perl Breuer did not appear perturbed in the least when Leebie walked into the office. “Oh, Leebie,” she said casually. “I had a question for you before. What was it…?” She frowned and tapped on her desk. “Forget it, I don’t remember. That means it wasn’t important, huh?”

Leebie searched for the cynicism in her voice, or for any form of vexation, but there really wasn’t any.

“I’m sorry I missed your calls,” she said. “I was trying to help out a mother with a room situation and didn’t realize my phone was on silent.”

“Sure, no problem.” Perl turned her attention back to her screen, then looked up again and raised her finger. “Oh, I remember what it was. I wanted to ask your opinion on that Landman decorator lady. You were here that night when she did her show, right? What did you think? Did our guests enjoy her? Should we book her again?”

Ita’s oversized sunflower ring spun before Leebie’s eyes. Seriously? This was the mega important reason to leave the poor Donenbaum mother in the lurch?

“She was actually very good,” she answered Perl. “I think the ladies were intrigued by the whole interior design process. And she also shared a bunch of cute ideas and tips for things that people can do in their houses on their own, without calling in any crews. So that was nice, too. If you’re booking her, maybe balance it between a musical and a comedy, so there shouldn’t be more than one workshop-style program throughout anyone’s stay.”

“Wow, okay. That’s really helpful. I’m glad you were here that night.”

“Sure, my pleasure.” Leebie took a quick look at her desk. “Uh… Is there anything else you need from me, Perl?”

“Why, you’re leaving?”

“No, not yet. I just have to go back to that lady with her room problem. She’s pretty upset.”

Perl straightened her back abruptly. “Oh, no, what’s the matter? Do you need my help with this?”

“I think I can handle it. It was a booking mistake, but I’ll work it out with her, no worries. I’ll let you know if—”

The door opened and Tziporah Schiffman, Leebie’s fellow Akeres hostess, poked her head in. “Ooh, Leebie. I wanted to ask you something. Do you have a minute?”

“Yes, sure, I’m coming.” She waved to Perl and followed Tziporah out to the hallway.

“Okay, here’s the thing,” Tziporah said. “I need to talk to you about Shabbos.”

“Okay, what about Shabbos?”

“My sister Chaya is making a bar mitzvah. She lives in Lakewood, right? So I really wasn’t planning on going for Shabbos, I thought we’d make the trip out for the bo bayom on Wednesday. But I’m hearing in her voice that she really wants us to come….”

“Okay, and?” Leebie asked, and a second later, she went, “Oh….”

It was Tziporah’s turn to be at Akeres that Shabbos. Leebie, Tziporah, Perl, and Ita took turns running the heim every Shabbos, bringing their families along for the stay.

The idea of spending Shabbos at the heim that week was suddenly so alluring. She could count the hours she’d slept since the wedding, and somehow, at Akeres, she always slept better. There was something so… peaceful in the atmosphere. Insomnia had no place between these walls.

“I’ll do Shabbos,” she heard herself telling Tziporah. “Go to Lakewood, that’s where you belong this week.”

The words had left her mouth, even as her thoughts whirled. Would Amram agree? Yehudis and Sruly were going to the Manns for Shabbos, so the timing was right. And extra money never hurt. Still, you never knew with him. Why had she jumped to agree so quickly?

Tziporah was obliviously delighted. “Really, Leebie? You mean it? Wow, thank you soooo much. You’re the nicest person in the world!”

Leebie shrugged. It was no big deal for her. She didn’t mind spending Shabbos at Akeres. She only hoped Amram and the kids wouldn’t mind.

An hour later — well past her official hours were over, but look, during the time that she was out dancing with Yehudis and beaming throughout all the sheva brachos at the young lady who was her daughter (imagine!), her work had piled up, and there was a lot to catch up on — Leebie left the building. A 20-minute drive separated her work from her family. Part One of her day was over. Time for Part Two.

Most of the kids were home from school by the time she pulled up in front of their town house on the corner of the block. That much was obvious, based on the scattering of schoolbags, papers, jackets, shoes, and umbrellas that she nearly tripped over as she walked through the door.

A storm charged through her blood. Her face went hot, and her pulse thrummed in her chest. “Shaya, Dassi, and Chananya Herzog!” she bellowed. “Do you think we live in a zoo? Is this what I need to come home to? I want every last thing out of this hallway right now!”

Three guilty faces came out to the hallway and listlessly picked up shoes and bags.

To be continued…

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 915)