An hour later, the women’s superpowers came to light as they piled plates with quiches, pastas, blintzes, and cheesecakes. Leebie privately marveled at the sight. The most she could manage was a cup of freshly squeezed fruit juice. She would’ve enjoyed one of those fancy iced coffees, but she would never dare to as much as inhale a molecule of caffeine after three in the afternoon. That would mean risking the very little bit of sleep she did manage to catch during the night.

An uproar sounded from one of the tables, and Leebie walked over curiously. One of the mothers —Shifra Gartner, Leebie read the label on her Akeres water bottle — was recounting some absurd work story, and the ladies around her were holding their sides laughing. The woman was a riot, and Leebie found herself laughing along with everyone as she sipped her juice.

“I think we can cancel Rina,” she said after yet another round of laughter. “We’ve got an in-house comedian right here!”

“Totally!” the mother-of-16 agreed.

“The Akeres administration would love that,” Leebie joked.

“The Akeres administration would love,” a cold voice sounded in her ear, “if you would be in the nursery taking care of your job rather than having fun with our guests.”

Slowly, Leebie turned around to face the piercing eyes of Ita Kratz.

“A gut voch,” Leebie said coolly.

“Shavua tov,” Ita replied, scornfully. “I’ve been looking for you the past hour. Didn’t you hear your phone ring?”

Leebie broke away from the table, forcing Ita to follow her out of the dining room. “My phone is still in my room from Shabbos,” she said as they walked. “Did you need anything from me?”

“Obviously, yes. We’re starting the night shift here, and I need a Shabbos report from you.”

“Okay, so what’s the problem? The nurses recorded everything on the babies’ crib charts. The Fogel baby, Room 105, has been very unhappy, the mother knows, and the Simpson baby is scheduled for a repeat hearing test in the morning. I’ll get you the list for the mohel for tomorrow morning. Anything else?”

“Nothing else,” Ita said in a clipped tone. “You go back to listen to that Gartner lady’s corny jokes. She’s one of those, you know. Stays up to have fun until three in the morning, as though she’s in camp. I’ll never get it. These ladies should rest when they come here. Whatever, enjoy your party.”

Leebie did not go back to the dining room. The party, as Ita called it, was officially over for her.

Back in the family wing, Leebie met Rikki in the hallway outside her room, talking on her cell. She moved the phone away from her mouth when she saw Leebie. “I packed up all the kids. Can we leave already?”

Leebie thanked her for the help and ignored the disdain in her question. She went to her own room to pack, and then the Herzogs piled into their minivan. Another heim Shabbos, done.

”” I’m thinking, you know what you should make? That turkey onion soup. It’s delicious and different, but not too over-the-top for a weekday meal. I’ll buy the turkey in the morning. Just leave out the brown sugar, it made the soup too sweet last time. Okay?”

Turkey onion soup — what?

No, not okay. Her throat tightened. How was it okay for him to invite their couple for supper — on Sunday, her one day off from work — without asking her first?

But even as she clenched her fingers in her lap, her mind wandered. Her sister Miriam did this all the time. She loved hosting her couple; she got all creative with recipes and plating.

Why shouldn’t she do it for Yehudis? Wasn’t this the time to spoil her couple a bit, to spend some quality time together over a delicious, elegant meal? Wasn’t this something that mothers did for their children?

She didn’t dare look at Amram. But the truth? Yehudis loved turkey onion soup.

IF

they were being practical, it made sense for Yehudis and Sruly to meet up at her parents’ house for supper. The Manns’ apartment and Sruly’s kollel were in opposite directions from the Herzogs. But for some reason, Yehudis didn’t feel like showing up at her parents’ on her own. How strange was it that she and Sruly had been married for a mere few weeks and she’d come to feel so safe in his presence?

It’s a good sign, she told herself, but it still made no sense. Seriously, she’d been an individual her whole life, what did this mean?

She reached the block and paused at the corner to check her reflection in her tiny cell phone screen. This sheitel business was growing familiar, and she somehow felt more “dressed” than she’d ever felt as a single girl.

“Hey, First Lady.”

Yehudis grinned as Sruly walked up to her. They strolled the block for a few minutes, catching up on each other’s day before heading into the house.

The weirdness hit her the minute she stepped inside.

For one, the actual meal — it was going to happen in the dining room. The pretty green tablecloth her mother used for Chanukah parties and special occasions was spread out on the table, with elegant new chargers under each place setting.

The second thing, it was strikingly quiet in the house. Where was everyone? Rikki? The little kids? Also, her mother was wearing a sheitel. Um, why?

And the food. Like, whoa. An appetizer was beautifully plated at each setting — a skewer with salmon cubes suspended over a round glass with dressing on the bottom, next to a nice salad — and behind the chargers, those hurricane glasses they’d once found in Macy’s, filled with some orange drink with ice cubes and a lemon wedge. Totally cool. Totally not her mother’s type.

Come. On. This was her house. She was their daughter. Cut the formality?

She gave a quick glance at Sruly to see if he found anything off, but Sruly himself looked off — a neat, polite smile on his face, thumbs hitched in his suit jacket pockets. He’d automatically adjusted his disposition to the environment.

Well, that didn’t mean she had to adjust her disposition to the environment. She’d been raised in this house — on schnitzels and burgers. “OMG, Ma. You’re sooooo fancy,” she gushed. “Are you, like, expecting company tonight?”

Her mother’s face turned bright red, and Yehudis instantly regretted her attempt at humor. Damage control, quick. She drew a smile over her face. “You really worked hard, wow. And it’s your one day off. Everything looks so beautiful. Thank you so much, Ma. You’re really spoiling us…”

Yay for a supremely awkward start, but at least that got everyone to move over to the table. Her father and Sruly went to the kitchen to wash, and Yehudis privately wondered at what point the maidservant would appear to pour water in their glasses.

The appetizer was eaten in complete silence. The fish was delicious, but it was hard to swallow over the uncomfortable thickness in the air. Why wasn’t anyone making dumb small talk? Where was her conversationalist husband? Even her father, please, why wasn’t he saying anything?

She collected the plates as soon as she and Sruly were done and took them to the kitchen, as much to get away from the stilted atmosphere as to be helpful.

But over the soup — the heavenly turkey onion soup that her mother usually made for Chol Hamoed Succos — she realized that she should’ve been careful what she’d wished for. Her father did start a conversation, but as soon as she heard what he wanted to talk about, she yearned for more silence.

“So,” he said, “going back to teach next year is out of the question, right, Yehudis?”

Yehudis flinched, dropping her spoon in her bowl. Her eyes whizzed from Sruly to her father. Her father dunked a small piece of his dinner roll in the soup and chewed deliberately.

She and Sruly had discussed this a bunch of times. As much as she hated the idea of leaving school, Yehudis acknowledged that her father was right, and this was the responsible decision to make. Sruly didn’t necessarily disagree with the decision, only with the part of it being a decision at all. “It never occurred to you to leave teaching, so it feels like your father decided this for you.”

And if that’s true? she wondered.

Now, her father picked up a napkin and deftly started folding it as he continued talking. “I know it was a great experience for you, and I’m happy you had this opportunity. You’re a born teacher, I always told you that. But now it’s time to be realistic and move on.”

It took every bit of effort to keep her gaze away from Sruly. He wasn’t liking the way her father spoke, she could sense as much. She racked her brain to come up with something to say to change the conversation, but of course she couldn’t think of anything.

Her father went right on with his little speech, obliviously pressing down the folds of the napkin. “So let’s talk tachlis,” he said, and to Yehudis’s trepidation, she detected a gleam in his eyes. “Guess what? I heard of an opening at a mortgage company, and it sounds like an excellent offer. It’s a place where you can really grow, and you’re going to love the challenge. Not your boring data-entry job at all.” He ran his nail over the napkin to impress the final creases and dropped a cute little bird on the table. “Anyway, I spoke to the boss, Mrs. Heimfeld. She’s available to interview you tomorrow at one o’clock, on your lunch break. Can I confirm with her?”

Can he?

For a moment, Yehudis was completely startled. An interview? She didn’t know what to make of this news. This was happening too quickly. Her fingers tingled, from excitement, from nervousness. A mortgage company — it sounded so mega professional. Real and grown-up and, well, scary. Was she at all capable? She didn’t know the first thing about loans.

She turned to look at Sruly — and the excitement deflated. Sruly’s face screamed: Are you serious? He’s got to be joking.

Her father wasn’t joking. He was trying to help her find a good job. Couldn’t Sruly see it that way?

Ugh, this was so icky. They should be grateful that her father was being so helpful.

Then again, why was her father being so helpful, Sruly was going to ask her soon. She could just hear it: We’re married now. Shouldn’t we be figuring this out on our own?

She really didn’t know. She glanced at her mother, as though she held the answer. She suddenly wondered, had this entire dinner invitation been a pretext, some way of informing the couple about the new plans being made on their behalf? Was that why her mother had gone all out with the food and decor and kept the kids out of sight?

But from her mother’s expression, it didn’t seem so. She was squinting at her father, equally bewildered. It looked like she was hearing about this interview for the first time, just like them.

Yehudis’s tongue was dry, but she knew she had to say something. “Uh, thanks, Ta, I appreciate that you’re trying to help. We’re going to… I mean—” She shot Sruly a desperate look. “Let me think about this, okay? Can I give you an answer tomorrow?”

“Whatever, you can think about it, but I’m going to confirm meanwhile. We can’t let this opportunity slip through our fingers.” He cradled the paper bird in his palm and winked at Yehudis. “You’re married now, and whoa, rent is a huge responsibility, isn’t it?”

To be continued…

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 927)