Yehudis cleared her throat. “A few things I wanted to discuss. First just to go over what the Neshei usually has scheduled for the year, and figure out where we want you.”

Want me? I stayed quiet. Avrumi says I need to behave.

“Sure. What else?” I kept my voice perky.

“Also, I wanted to talk to you about speaking. I really appreciated you going out of your comfort zone at the last event. It was very brave of you, and I just had a few pointers for you for next time.”

I shifted in my seat. This feels like high school.

“Right, nice. Let’s talk schedule first.”

Maybe she’d forget her pointers by the end of lunch. Yehudis took out her phone and flicked through it. “So we have fundraisers Chanukah, Purim, and Shavuos. There are also events, like the challah bake and Tu B’Shevat seudah. We have the typical small business pop-up shops Chanukah, group shalach manos for Purim, and flowers sales for Shavuos. I think we’d just need you to say a few words at the Chanukah event, then there’s the annual Melaveh Malkah, we need you to speak there, and I’m forgetting something.” She tapped on her phone a bit more. “Oh yes, Tishah B’Av.”

I smiled. “Yehudis, let’s call a spade a spade. Even with your pointers. You think I’ll speak well enough that you want to count on my inspiration?”

Yehudis opened her mouth then closed it. “Rebbetzin Schwartzberg.” She was trying to sound shocked that I’d disparaged myself, but she sounded more relieved that I was honest.

She appraised me. “No Tishah B’Av then.” Ouch.

“But we’re going to have to figure out something. I had the women fill out surveys and many of them really want a steady shiur, one person, a go-to type. We fundraise, but we don’t have the budget to bring in someone famous just for ourselves.”

I felt my stomach clench. “You mean me.”

“Yes,” Yehudis confirmed, smiling with all her teeth.

The waitress reappeared with our food — my Eggs Benedict and latte, and a something salad with the dressing on the side and La Croix for Yehudis. I chuckled to myself.

Yehudis leaned in. “Look, I know the first speech was a bit rough, but I was so impressed with your joy, your ease throughout the whole interview process. Other people we interviewed, their wives were stiff, or calculated, or too shy. I liked you, we all liked you, and I think you have a lot to share.”

“What?”

Yehudis patted my hand. “You’re gonna be great.”

This woman is hot and cold and I’m confused. But at least she says she likes me.

“I also wanted to figure out something for the teenage girls. They need a program to make them feel special. Like I’ve said, there’s so much focus on the boys, the girls need something too. I was thinking of getting someone like Mrs. Lisker — she’s a 12th-grade Chumash teacher in Bais Shaina — on a regular basis. She’s amazing. I think the girls would really take to her.”

“I don’t have to speak?” I joked.

Yehudis smirked.

“I think teens need someone they can relate to a little more.”

That wasn’t very nice.

I thought a moment. “I don’t know if a local high school teacher is such a good idea. The schools have great programming, I don’t think girls wants more speeches and inspiration, they need something more chill and activity-oriented, then we can sneak in the growth through the back door.”

Yehudis leaned her head to one side, like she was seriously considering me.

“Also, a local teacher is just going to make the girls feel like they have to behave, say, and do the right thing. They need a place where they can breathe for a minute and just be without wondering if what they’re doing is good for shidduchim, seminary, making the right impression.”

Yehudis was shaking her head now. “Shouldn’t they be behaving all the time?”

“Never mind.” I picked up my fork, my eggs were getting cold. I cut through the yolk and watched the yellow run down the side.

“Anyway, I’ll think about what you said about an activity versus speech. Getting back to your speaking. People have very different schedules — there’s the young mothers, they have time after early bedtimes, the working full-time moms want weekends, and the stay-at-home mothers like late mornings. Different times work best for everyone, so we were thinking three different groups would be best. They each have their own needs anyway, and you can reach them better if you could tailor your message.”

Three “speeches” a week. I love people, but this I can’t do. I finally took a bite of my eggs Benedict. It tasted like dust. I felt nauseous and everything was throbbing, including my legs.

There’s no place like home, I thought. And I better head there soon. I took another bite, looked at Yehudis, and smiled. “Sounds wonderful.”

She still hadn’t touched her salad.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 691)