Yehuda ignored her question. “Listen, Tams, I’ve thought this out. I’m making a hundred shekel a night learning two hours with Bergenfeld. Just imagine if I could fill up every evening with these jobs. That would be an extra two thousand shekel a month!” His eyes shone.

Tammy tried again. “But do you enjoy it?”

Yehuda furrowed his brows in confusion. “It’s… b’seder, it’s a job, what does it matter if I enjoy it? Two thousand a month,” he repeated, as if that were sufficient answer to her question.

She shook her head. When it came to working and money, they were on different wavelengths. She was just starting to appreciate how hard it must have been for Yehuda to go along with her own career switch. She was trying to figure out the best way to express this when her phone rang.

Automatically, Tammy looked down at the screen. It was Tziri, the madrichah. She bit her lip. It was only 7:30; she wasn’t yet on call. Glancing at Yehuda, she silenced the phone, and put it resolutely away.

He smiled.

They continued walking, but a minute later, the phone rang again. Tziri. Tammy held it in her hand, looking at Yehuda helplessly. “Maybe it’s an emergency?”

He shrugged. “May as well pick up. You won’t be able to concentrate anyway, worrying about what’s going on there.”

There was a hint of resentment in his voice, and Tammy felt guilty, knowing he was right. She quickly picked up. “Tziri? Is this urgent?”

The madrichah’s voice was unnaturally high-pitched. “Mrs. Hurwitz, we have an emergency! Miriam tripped and fell down the stairs and she’s crying hysterically — I think she broke her leg or something!”

Tammy sucked in her breath. “Emergency,” she mouthed to Yehuda. “Broken leg.” She turned back to the phone. “Have you called an ambulance?”

“Yeah, they’re on their way.”

“So am I. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

She hung up and glanced at Yehuda. “Sorry, I need to cut our walk short. An ambulance is on the way.”

“Go ahead.” His face was stony. Tammy’s eyes opened wide.

“Yehuda, you’re not upset, are you? I mean, this is an emergency!”

“A broken leg is not exactly life threatening. It sounds like they have everything under control. Why do they need to bother you?”

Her mouth dropped open. “Bother me? This is my job!”

“Yeah, it’s always your job,” he muttered.

Tammy stopped. Apparently his resentment was much deeper than she’d imagined. But what did he want her to do? They needed her! Now!

“I’m sorry,” she said, and she heard how tense she sounded, “but I need to go.” She turned to sprint off when she heard him say, “Um, Tam? Aren’t you forgetting someone?”

Tammy stopped and swiveled around. Yehuda was pointing at Shimmy, sitting in his stroller.

“I have night seder in a half hour. What am I supposed to do with him?”

Tammy felt like screaming. Can’t you give just a little bit? Stay home from night seder! Maybe this doesn’t feel like an emergency to you, but there’s a girl in terrible pain and they need me to handle it!

But she couldn’t say that. Instead, with an exasperated grunt, she grabbed the stroller. “I’ll take him along. There’ll be plenty of girls to watch him there.” Who cares if he won’t get to sleep until midnight, and his schedule will be totally off?

She raced off, trying to push out of her mind the thought of Yehuda finishing their walk on his own.

Tammy ran so fast that she arrived before the paramedics. She raced up the two flights of stairs, carrying Shimmy, until she reached Miriam’s dorm floor, and was so out of breath by the time she found Miriam lying on the floor at the foot of the stairs, that she needed to lean against the wall for a moment before she could speak.

Miriam’s face was scrunched up in pain, her cheeks stained with tears, as what looked like half the seminary hovered anxiously around her.

“Mrs. Hurwitz!” Tziri cried gratefully. “I’m so glad you came. I didn’t know what else to do for her. I didn’t want to move her—”

“Definitely not,” Tammy agreed. “Let’s wait for the paramedics. They should be here any minute.”

The girls moved aside to let Tammy through to Miriam. Tammy was still clutching Shimmy, and her eyes scanned the crowd until they lighted on Shani.

“Can you take him?” Tammy asked, holding Shimmy up.

Shani’s face instantly flushed with pleasure. As she reached out to take the baby, Tammy thought that she’d never seen Shani look so proud.

There were way too many girls crowding Miriam, all talking at high pitch. Tammy raised her voice over them.

“Everyone, away! Give her space! The ambulance is about to get here!”

As if on cue, sirens suddenly wailed outside their building. A minute later, they heard feet pounding up the stairs. The paramedics were already opening their equipment when they walked in. Miriam looked frightened, and Tammy reached out to hold her hand.

After a brief look, they determined she needed hospital treatment. Tammy nodded, and stiffened her shoulders, wondering if she should go with Miriam to the ER, or if it was enough to send a madrichah.

She caught Tziri’s eye, who immediately said, “I’ll go with her.”

“Amazing, thanks.” Tammy briefly closed her eyes, trying to organize her thoughts. Miriam needed her insurance card. Maybe her passport? Also, food, drink, and a change of clothing, if she ended up admitted. Okay, they needed to gather that stuff, quickly. Tammy once again looked around and spotted ZeeZee standing nearby, unwilling to leave when the rest of the girls dispersed. Tammy beckoned her over.

“I need you to collect some of Miriam’s things to take to the hospital. Can you do that for me really fast?”

ZeeZee nodded keenly. “No problem.” She waited as Tammy found a scrap of paper in her purse and scribbled the list. Then she asked, eagerness written all over her face, “Mrs. Hurwitz, can I go along with her?”

Tammy smiled. “That’s a beautiful offer, ZeeZee, but Tziri’s going. There’s no need for two people.”

“Yeah, but wouldn’t it be nice for Miriam to have a friend along, too? Like, while Tziri’s dealing with all the medical stuff, I can just sit by her and entertain her?”

Tammy hesitated. “I don’t think that’s necessary,” she repeated.

“Is there any reason why I can’t?” ZeeZee pressed.

Tammy looked at her. Was there? She supposed not.

“Fine, you can go, too. I’m sure Miriam will appreciate having you come.”

to be continued…

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 734)