“Yeah, maybe.” She tilted her head to the side. “Or maybe she, like, spotted a shadchan here and ran to hide in the bathroom so the lady wouldn’t see her in her hoodie and slinky skirt.”

Miriam gave a small smile, and ZeeZee continued, “No, forget about the bathroom, she ran out to buy a new outfit! And makeup! Just watch, she’s gonna come back here in a half hour looking like she was on a shidduch date.”

This time Miriam giggled, and, encouraged, ZeeZee bounced up in her chair. “Hey, maybe she is on a date! Whaddaya bet she’ll come back in two hours, pretending she was waiting the whole time to speak to a nurse, when really she’s at the Ramada drinking a Diet Coke with some guy from the Mir?”

Tziri appeared at that moment, and looked mystified when the two girls cracked up.

“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying this experience,” she said, raising her eyebrow. “Good news, Miriam, the nurse told me you’re next.”

She unlocked Miriam’s wheelchair and began to wheel her toward the nurses’ station, while ZeeZee gathered all of the bags and followed them, wondering idly if this counted for number 24 on her bucket list: Save someone’s life.

She decided it didn’t.

Tammy opened the door of her apartment slowly so the squeaky hinges wouldn’t wake Shimmy, sleeping in his stroller. It had worked out fine bringing Shimmy with her tonight; Shani had been a doll, taking care of him like a pro, and when Yehuda had called after night seder was over to tell her that he was on the way to Shvilei to pick up the baby, Shani had insisted there was no need.

“We all want him to stay,” she’d said, bouncing Shimmy on her lap and making a silly face that caused him to give a big, goofy grin. About a dozen girls were gathered around him on the couch, and they’d all echoed Shani.

“He’s sooo cute, Mrs. Hurwitz!”

“Please let him stay!”

There was no way Tammy could resist such a compliment to her baby. So she’d told Yehuda to go home and left Shimmy in Shani’s care. Tammy had suspected that Shani was enjoying being the center of attention for once.

Now she sat down on the couch and leaned her head back on the pillow. It had been quite a night; even after the ambulance had left with Miriam, Tziri, and ZeeZee, the girls had been so wound up that Tammy had decided to allow for a later Lights Out than usual.

She’d stayed around to wait until she got the call from Tziri that Miriam had gone in for x-rays and was being seen by an orthopedist. The bone was fractured, but not badly, and she’d be released later tonight. Relieved, Tammy immediately called Miriam’s mother to update her as well.

Luckily, Mrs. Epstein turned out not to be the hysterical type; Tammy had braced herself for cries and criticisms and doubts about whether Israeli doctors knew what they were doing, and surely the seminary must have been negligent to construct stairs in a way that Miriam could fall…

Even without dealing with an unreasonably panicky parent, it had been a long, stressful night, and Tammy was debating whether transferring Shimmy into his crib or leaving him sleeping in his stroller would give her a better night’s sleep, when her phone suddenly rang.

In her dark and silent apartment, the peal sounded like a shrill fire alarm, and she quickly dove into her pocketbook to pick it up before it woke up Shimmy, Yehuda, and all the neighbors on her floor.

She was expecting it to be Tziri, telling her they were on the way home or something (not that that was necessary for her to know at two in the morning), but to her shock, she saw Shani’s name appear.

Heart beating at the thought of a second emergency tonight, she picked up and whispered, “Shani? Is everything okay?”

There was a slight pause, in which Tammy’s overtired imagination leaped to everything from a heart attack to being kidnapped by terrorists. Finally, she heard Shani’s voice — uncertain, but otherwise normal.

“I – I’m sorry, Mrs. Hurwitz. Were you sleeping? I knew that you’d just left a few minutes ago, so I figured you’d still be awake…”

Tammy sighed and passed a hand over her eyes. “I’m still awake, Shani. Just give me a sec.” She wheeled Shimmy’s stroller into his bedroom, and then came back to the phone. “What’s up?”

“It’s… nothing, really. Just… well, we didn’t get to speak tonight, even though you were here so long, so I thought, you know, maybe we could speak now.”

Tammy clenched her teeth. Did this girl seriously expect a friendly chat at 2 a.m.? “Um, was there something urgent you wanted to talk about? Or can it wait until tomorrow?”

“Oh.” Shani was silent for a few moments, and Tammy began to worry she’d offended her. “Nooo, nothing crazy urgent, it can wait. It’s just, you know, I spent the whole night watching Shimmy so I didn’t get a chance to tell you about — um, my conversation with my mom.”

Tammy closed her eyes briefly. Shani was right; she had spent the whole night helping Tammy. But still, she was old enough to understand that adults had needs, too.

“Mmm. Listen, Shani, I’m really tired now. How about we set up a time to speak tomorrow?”

“Oh. Okay.” Shani’s voice sounded a little wobbly. And then, to Tammy’s horror, she heard sniffling on the other end of the line.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked.

“N-no, I don’t think so.” Shani’s voice broke. “It was a bad conversation, and I’m feeling… really vulnerable right now. Can I…” her voice rose until it sounded almost child-like. “Can I come sleep by you tonight?”

Tammy thought briefly about her exhaustion, and about the spare bed in Shimmy’s room that was filled right now with laundry. She also thought about Yehuda’s reaction when he woke up in the morning and realized they had company. She wondered whether she was even allowed to host a student in the middle of the week.

But Shani was crying, and only Tammy could help her.

“Fine,” she said, lifting herself up with effort from the couch. “But you can’t walk outside yourself at this hour. I’ll come meet you.”

to be continued…

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 735)