Oh, Shifra, right back to perfect. I mentally shook my head. I need to keep an eye on you

"What a treat — I get to see you courtesy of Skype.” Shifra smiled from my screen.

It was wonderful to see Shifra. Abby might have thought she needed a boost, but Shifra looked fine — more than fine, perfect. It was 10 p.m., she was in her ninth month, and she was still in her sheitel.

“I know! Please excuse my snood. I just wanna schmooze, no fashion help today. But also, I need your help.”

Shifra brightened with the word help. I was going to have to get her through the back door.

“It’s so great to be talking to someone I can just be myself with.” I paused. “This rebbetzin thing is not my type and it’s not as easy as I thought it would be. Really rough going, if I’m being honest. There’s this woman, she’s head of the Neshei — I need to come up with the right words or something to get her to like me or at least leave me alone. Maybe you can help.”

Shifra gave an exaggerated frown. “So sorry, Chana.”

“Yeah, I thought I could just breeze into it, but every day it’s something else.”

Shifra was nodding along, Oh, please, Hashem, let her open up. She pulled her phone closer to her face; I could see the bags under her eyes. “I know what you mean. I’m not a rebbetzin, don’t ever plan on it, but this baby thing, it’s throwing me for a loop.”

I nodded. Please, please, continue.

“I’m excited.” Shifra dropped her voice until she was almost whispering. “But I’m also scared out of my mind.”

“Ding, ding, ding!” I mimed ringing a bell. “That’s exactly what being a mother is — love and terror, most of the time simultaneously.” Shifra looked away. I watched her profile closely. She looked up, swallowed, and seemed to pick her words slowly.

“But what if I’m just not the Mommy type? I’m thinking of how everything will change, the person I’ll be, the person I’ll be responsible for… it scares me to death.”

I nodded and waited for her to continue.

“I waited so long to get married, and it’s amazing, but it still threw me for a complete loop. It’s that all over again.”

“You just said marriage is amazing. Why won’t mothering be? C’mon, Shifra PR lady, I know you can twist it and sell it back to yourself.”

Shifra chewed her lip.

“All these years, I looked at my friends raising their families and dreamed of my own. But then I’d look at my relationship with my mother, and it kinda fell flat. Do you know what I mean?”

Thank G-d I didn’t know, but I understood what she was saying. I’d met Shifra’s mother, she can be… challenging.

“Shifra.” I commanded. She looked at me briefly, then averted her eyes. “Shifra,” I said again. She met my gaze.

“You are not your mother, and Ari is not your father. You are Shifra, queen of the world, and Ari’s the nicest and tallest guy ever.” Her eyes softened when I said Ari’s name. So sweet. She seemed like she was taking it. I needed to finish strong.

“Shifra, my Leah used to keep a list of all the things she was going to do differently in her house. Supper on time, laundry folded, all the stuff I’m not so good at.”

Shifra giggled.

“I know you.” I pointed a finger at her. “You have your own list. And besides toilet trained by six months and reading by age two, all those things will happen because you care about them, because you’re determined, and because you’re a doer.”

Shifra’s head was lowered; when she raised it, all I saw were her eyes.

“You really think so?” Her voice was skeptical but her eyes were pleading.

“I’m a terrible housekeeper,” I answered Shifra. “I’m also a terrible liar.”

Shifra smiled a little, then flicked her hand. “Thanks, Chana. I needed to hear that.” She shifted her posture. “Tell me more about being a rebbetzin.”

Oh, Shifra, right back to perfect. I mentally shook my head. I need to keep an eye on you.