Pessie watched him leave with mounting suspicion. Yochi offering to put away the leichter without a reminder — something was terribly off

Y

itty Hartsein lived for Melaveh Malkah.

“You’re still feeling up to it, Ma?” Pessie had asked her during their workout session that week. “You’re in the mood of the whole mess every week?”

“It’s the only time I get to spend time with the kids,” Yitty had explained. “So I vacuum when you leave, big deal.” She kept an extra leaf in the dining room table, and every Motzaei Shabbos, Chananya schlepped out the folding table and folding chairs. Right after saying Gut fun Avrohom, Yitty sent out the text: Gut vuch!!!! Who’s coming?

Then, while she quickly loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the leichter, the responses rolled in. We are! and We!! and What should I bring?

The offers followed. Baked ziti and salad and iced coffee. Rechy texted that she and Pinchas wouldn’t make it, they were invited to a cousin’s sheva brachos. And Devoiry had two kids sick with the flu, she was staying home.

At the milchig counter, Libby was draining cans of tuna. “Who’s coming?” she asked.

“Five couples so far. Do at least six cans.” Then she turned to her husband. “Are you going down to get the table?”

Chananya, refolding his tallis for the third time, didn’t seem to hear her. “Just curious. Is Pessie coming?”

He looked a lot more than just curious. He looked anxious. Yitty looked at her phone. “She didn’t reply yet, why?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he said quickly. “Just wondering. I’ll go downstairs to get the table. And I’ll go to Hot Bagels afterward, let me know how many bagels to buy.”