“Thanks again for coming with me,” Huvy said shyly as she got into Gabriella’s car and threw five bakery bags filled with cakes, rugelach, and challah into the back seat. “And on an Erev Shabbos. This is so nice of you.”

Gabriella waved away her thanks, the metallic threads in her scarves glinting in the sun as she swung her head.

“On to your father’s now?” she asked, typing into Waze. “What was the address again?” Starting the engine, she added, “You don’t have to thank me every second. I already told you, this is my fun.”

Huvy eyed her dubiously. Fun? She knew that for her mother, organizing parties was fun. But she thought of it as a responsibility. And, somehow, she hadn’t pegged Gabriella as the “party planning is a blast!” type, either.

Gabriella pulled her eyes away from the road to give Huvy a swift glance. “What is it?” she asked.

“It’s just… I don’t know if I believe you.”

At that, Gabriella burst out laughing. “Sharp,” she said. “You read people so well. Ever think about being a psychologist?” Then she added, “Fine, I admit it, party shopping is not my cup of tea. But I meant that hanging out with you for an hour is my fun.”

Huvy shook her head. That seemed even more of a stretch than the first reason. The question escaped her: “Why?”

“Again you don’t believe me, huh?” Gabriella asked lightly. “But this time I’m telling the truth. You’re someone people want to be around. You’re intelligent, you have depth, and you’ve got to start believing in yourself more.”

Huvy’s cheeks burned crimson.

Gabriella pressed on, still in the same light tone. “Are any of your friends coming to this shalom zachar?”

Huvy suddenly felt her chest tightening. Could Mommy have possibly put Gabriella up to this? It seemed impossible. Mommy didn’t even know she was going out this morning with Gabriella. Her mother had been busy cooking for Shabbos when Huvy had told her she was going shopping for the shalom zachar.

“You have everything all planned, then?” her mother had asked, with a look that was a mixture of guilt and relief.

“Yeah, it’s all under control,” Huvy had answered. “Oh, I hear a honk. See you later.”

Her mother had assumed it was Abba coming to pick her up. Well, that was a reasonable assumption, she thought, as a slight flash of resentment darkened her face. This morning, armed with the detailed shopping list she and Gabriella had worked out last night, Huvy had called up her father.

“Abba, when can you take me shopping for the shalom zachar today?”

Her father had seemed taken aback. “Oh. Gosh, Huvy, I don’t know. I hadn’t really counted on that — I’m alone with the kids right now, and soon we’re going to go pick up Ima from the hospital. And then there’s Shabbos… I was actually hoping you’d come early, to help us get ready.” (Excerpted from Family First, Issue 623)