The door to the ezras nashim opened; I knew she was there before I looked. Be a lady, I reminded myself

Y

ehudis’s eyes found mine, held my gaze for a moment too long. Then she turned on her heel and left the ezras nashim. I felt my face flush and heart start beating faster. How was I a part of this conversation, how did I let it happen? Did I encourage it? What did I say? What did she hear? My vision blurred.

“Are you okay, Rebbetzin?” Chedva asked.

“Yes, I’m fine.” I waved her off. I inhaled deeply and padded off without my shoes. I needed to catch Yehudis. What would I say? I’d never been in a situation like this. This needs Shifra levels of diplomacy; I’m more the let’s-smile-and-get-along type. But we haven’t been. No one has been. And no one’s been talking about it, either.

Stumbling down the steps, I saw Yehudis at the bottom, waiting for me. I didn’t have to decide what to say. She spoke first.

“My mother always says, no matter what happens, be a lady.” I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but she went on. “For the rest of Shabbos, we’re going to pretend I wasn’t in the room and we’re going to smile at each other and at everybody else and act like we’re the loving community that we’re supposed to be. Understood?”

I was still trying to catch my breath.

“Okay, but we’re going to sit down and work this through after Shabbos, right?”

Yehudis’s nostrils flared, then she jerked her chin to the side. No. She spun on her heel and walked away. But just before she did so, she turned and flashed me a huge grin. It looked so real.

I looked at my watch. My speech was in two minutes. Could I really do it now? The building door opened, and a bevy of shul women entered, coming to hear me speak. I looked down at my middle. Could I blame the baby and excuse myself?