Let them talk. In a strange way, it was fun to make everyone wonder. The boss’s son-in-law, what happened?

Deena thought about Zev often. Which was normal, she knew, even if he was gone for over two years.
There were times when she thought, just thought, without stirring up a storm of emotions. Then there were times when she thought-thought, until her insides clenched and her breath became short.
Setting the candlesticks out on the table on Friday morning, Deena thought-thought. She thought of her father, wannabe cantor belting out a Koussevitzky while preparing the licht for her mother. As a little girl, Deena had watched in astonishment as he lit each wick, then extinguished the flames with his bare fingers.
She thought of Leah. Her husband prepared the candles Thursday night, even though Leah complained that the leichter turned gold from being out so long. She thought of her sisters Tzippi and Adina, their husbands rushing in Friday afternoon after work and grabbing the candlesticks.
While Zev…
Zev had never prepared her candles. He didn’t get it. “I help you plenty, don’t I?” he would claim. “Where in the Torah does it say that a man has to prepare the candles for Shabbos?”
So Deena had done it on her own. And she did it on her own now, too.
And she still got worked up about it, every single Friday.
She struck a match, harshly, and lit the candles. As she waited a moment for the wicks to blacken before she’d extinguish them, her phone rang.
It was Miri’s teacher, Morah Shiffy.
Deena frowned. Wasn’t she supposed to be in class with the girls now? Had something happened to Miri?
She gripped her phone. “Hello?”
“Hi, Mrs. Lizman. It’s Morah Shiffy. I left the girls with Morah Batya — I feel bad that we couldn’t finish our conversation last night.”
Deena exhaled in relief. “That’s okay, it wasn’t the right time and place.”
“Right. So anyway, do you have a few minutes now?”
Deena started pacing the hallway. “Yes, sure. Let’s hear.”