She heard, and he heard, even though Pessie was once again quiet.

He heard her silent accusation. How he was putting his tours before the family, how he wasn’t recognizing the severity of Hindy’s condition, how he was being selfish and inflexible and how he should never have accepted this stupid job and how if he’d continued working at the firm, her father would gladly have granted him the time off to take care of his granddaughter.

She couldn’t have said it any louder.

“So basically,” Pessie finally said stiffly. “Basically what you’re telling me is that if I want to do this trip, I should go without you.”

She hung up. Yochi stayed in his car and planted his head on his steering wheel.

The Hersko guy did not look the way Deena had expected.

For some reason, when she’d spoken to him on the phone, she’d pictured a broad, macho guy, square face, shrewd eyes.

She’d pictured Zev.

Zev, with his air of assuredness. When Deena had spoken to Leah after her third date with Zev, she’d told her, “I like that he has backbone, that he tells it like it is.”

But then, when they’d been married for three months and Deena shared how hurt she felt that his mother hadn’t appreciated her mini three-layer cheesecakes and had said it wasn’t necessary, Zev had said that his mother was right and it really hadn’t been necessary to go so crazy, who was she trying to impress. And when Zev had yelled at the neighbor’s kids for splattering his car with mud. And when he’d flatly told her that he didn’t like her sister Elisheva. Then, she didn’t like his backbone all that much.

It frightened her.

But the guy who motioned her to take a seat in the Touring Together office was a chassidish guy, short and slim with an almost child-like exuberance to his face.

There really was no reason for her to be nervous.

Mr. Binick started the meeting. “I guess let’s talk about the program first?”

Deena nodded. “Yes, let’s.”

“So you’ve done cooking shows before, right?”

“Of course. Many times, with all types of crowds. They’re so much fun. I do a lot of competitions, people always love that, and of course I also do demos where I’ll walk the audience through the cooking process of a unique dish. People find them fascinating.”

“Okay, that’s good.”

Hersko took over. “So really, we’re sure you know what’s going to work best. You know the kind of crowd we’re expecting. Young-ish, I call them. Not an age thing, it’s a type.”

Deena chuckled. “I get it, no worries.”

They spent some time discussing program ideas. Deena described different personalities she followed, what she felt it took make a show a success.

Then they moved on to compensation.

“So do you want to name a price?” Binick asked.

Ah, so Binick was the Big Boss. She’d assumed as much.

“Maybe make an offer and I’ll let you know if it works for me?”

He did. His offer was attractive, plus the tour would be covering the cost of her stay and attractions. There was nothing to consider, but instead of agreeing on the spot, Deena said, “I hear. Okay, I’ll think it over and let you know if that’s going to work.”

“And free stay for your husband and kids as well, obviously.”

Obviously.

Deena kept her face even. “Just me and my kids. My husband… is not alive.”

The two men looked lost for a moment. Then Hersko shook his head solemnly and Binick said, in a low, sympathetic tone, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry to hear that.”

For an odd moment, it felt good. There was something vindicating in their pity, validating.

But the good feeling dissolved very quickly. They were pitying this young almanah who nebach lost her adoring husband, what a tragedy, sigh, sigh, sigh. She didn’t deserve it. Accepting their pity felt almost… corrupt.

Deena cleared her throat. “So you were saying…”

“Yes,” Hersko said. He rolled a pen with the Touring Together logo on it between his fingers. “So moving on…” He threw a quick glance at Binick, who gave a slight nod. “We wanted to talk to you about the time before the tour.”

“Marketing,” Deena supplied.

“I guess.”

She smiled. “Sure. You want me to push the tour on my followers, I assume?”

He flushed. “Yeah, sort of. You know, announce that you’re joining, post exciting stuff about the tour, who’s going to cater, that kind of thing. We’ll give you all the details.”

“I get it,” Deena said. “I’ll need to think how to do that.”

Binick stood up. “Okay, good. And keep in mind, we offer a commission for every guest you bring us.”

Deena was stepping into the house after the meeting when her phone rang. Morah Shiffy.

“I don’t know how to say this,” Miri’s teacher started, “but we just had a little… incident in school.”

Deena let the Touring Together folder fall to the counter and jammed her AirPod in tighter. “An incident?”

“Miri. She pushed a kid down the slide at recess. The girl fell and got hurt.”

Deena closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. “I’m going to deal with this,” she whispered. “How’s the girl doing?”

“She’s fine now. But this is a problem. We need to do something about this.”

“Of course. Yes, of course. It’s so… disturbing.”

Why had Miri done that? Had she been upset at the girl? Was she provoked?

“Hurt people hurt people,” Morah Shiffy said quietly.

Deena’s head spun as she hung up the phone and sank into a chair. Therapy, therapy. It was so easy to suggest therapy. And it wasn’t like she vehemently opposed, it was just… Therapy didn’t feel like the answer here. There was something going on, some piece of a puzzle that she felt was missing.

She didn’t know what it was, and she didn’t know whom to ask. The house suddenly felt huge and empty and quiet.

She was still sitting at the kitchen table, absently flipping through some Touring Together brochures, when her phone rang again.

Ruthie Laufer.

Goodness. What did this woman want from her life? They hadn’t had shayachus since high school, did she really think being divorced would turn them into BFFs?

Gritting her teeth, Deena answered the call.

“How are you?” she asked coolly.

Ruthie was all OMG-how-are-you? We-didn’t-talk-in-ages!

Deena waited for Ruthie to get to the point.

“So there’s this barbecue on Sunday in Rosebush Park, a single-mom event. Just a casual get-together, with kids. I got to know some of these women over the past few weeks, really nice people. Oh, and they’re having a barbecue chef, so your type. Would you join us? You’ll love it, I’m telling you.”

It took every ounce of Deena’s self-control to wait for Ruthie to finish talking so she could give her a resounding No!

Although…

A single-mom event — these were perfect candidates for the Succos tour. She knew how awful it was to spend Yom Tov with family without a husband around. This was a perfect escape. Maybe she’d even get this B’yachad organization to subsidize the cost?

…a commission, for every guest you bring us.

“You know what, Ruthie?” Deena said. “It does sound amazing. Yes, I think I’ll come on Sunday.”

to be continued…

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 748)