Avi muttered something under his breath — Benny was pretty sure it featured “stupid Americans” with some other choice words

“This Shabbos we’re not having any bochurim. I keep thinking about what you said and everything that happened… I want to get my balance back”

Benny put down the phone and returned to his Gemara. Tziporah got back to her clicking and tapping, but she had clearly been listening to every word

Benny shrugged. “Listen, I’m in the beis medrash every day. I’ve seen a lot of guys over the years. I don’t know everything, but I could tell you weren’t happy"

“Harav Eisental said you have a job for me, something with a drug dealer and a yeshivah bochur?”

She wasn’t sure why she was even dressing up to go out with this guy who’d abandoned his wife and kids

“Please, my wife and kids are waiting for me. I have to get home. Just tell me where to go and what bus to wait for”

He hadn’t davened Shacharis today, never even put on tefillin. He’d been so desperate to run, to hide, that he had forgotten who he was

The day was halfway over. And she still hadn’t heard from Benny since he’d walked out this morning “to clear his head”

Tziporah opened the fridge — and saw the three boxes of miniature cheesecake trifles Benny had insisted on ordering. She didn’t want to know how much they had cost

Tziporah knew Benny was disappointed at her practicality. This party was so vital to him, it had become an obsession