How could Tzip get engaged to the rav’s son?

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ery few people were surprised when Tzip Helbach left school, and fewer still when she began working at a neon-lit 24-hour sandwich shop, but the neighborhood of Audley kept on talking about it, and would  continue to do so until someone gave them something more scandalous to chew. Which Tzip did five years later, by getting engaged to the rav’s son.

Many theories circulated, none of which were complimentary to Tzip. The girl had dingy black hair that hung around her waxy face. Her posture was dismal, her attitude was worse, and her clothing could charitably be described as “weird.” She had potential, the local women agreed, shaking their heads over the local dry cleaner’s wayward child. Her older sisters had been good-looking, classically beautiful, and then there was Tzip, looking like she’d snuck onto the planet illegally. She rarely made eye contact, and when she did, they wished she hadn’t: It was like getting your soul X-rayed by a malevolent technician.

There was something wrong about that girl.

And there was nothing wrong with the rav’s son! Asher Eitan Stern was a young man who did everything by the book, going from one right school to the next, never causing a ripple except for the time when he made a siyum haShas on his own schedule. The Golden Son of Audley was destined for greatness. He couldn’t marry just anyone; he’d have to marry someone special. One of the town’s normal daughters, for example.

The women of Audley waited to hear of a gently broken-off agreement, a kind and neutral statement from the rav that blamed no one and absolved all parties. They followed the news in an exhilarated, insatiable mass, like college football fans (except that they were interesting and intelligent), waiting for things to normalize, as things do.

Instead, things got weirder.