But Deena flashed her a smile of a thousand perfect teeth, so she simply smiled back. This wasn’t the intimidation she’d anticipated, it was intimidation on a much more nuanced level. Match my airiness, can you?

Yochi had asked Pessie if she could accompany this woman, basically to represent the tour. Also, with Lizman helping out Berkowitz, “it’ll be more pleasant for her if she has another woman on the team.

“But yeah,” he’d added, stealing a honey cookie from the tray on the counter, “I mainly need you to rein in her spending. She has expensive taste, and doesn’t seem to realize that a budget is a real thing.”

Pessie cast another glance at the shimmering rocks surrounding Deena’s finger. Expensive taste, nice euphemism.

Deena turned on some music, then lowered the volume to answer a call. When she hung up, she turned to Pessie amicably. “It’s this woman who sells starter, she wants to do a collab, but I’ll tell you the truth, I’m not into sourdough. Does that make me yesterday?”

Even her flaws were perfect. They’d barely spent five minutes together, and Pessie already got a kick out of her — once she was able to get past the intimidation. She had no way of judging her culinary skills, but the women would probably go crazy over her. Yochi had chosen well.

“It’s a real pleasure to work with your husband,” Deena said. “He’s such a mensch.”

“Uh, I agree,” Pessie stammered. And then, getting into the airiness mode, she chuckled and tacked on, “Lol.”

“I’m hyper excited,” Deena went on. “This tour is going to be like completely beyond.”

“Totally,” Pessie said, impressing the “t” for the coolest, fakest totally.

Deena pulled into a parking spot and fed the meter.

“Write it off, huh?” Pessie said. By now she was getting a kick out of herself.

Table Talk was basically a tremendous warehouse, and Pessie followed Deena through a tunnel of cartons to the office in the back. Deena was apparently a frequent visitor to the place.

“They come out with really pretty stuff,” she told Pessie. “They have this crazy talented designer, she creates stunning collections.”

Deena rang the bell and a moment later they were buzzed in.

There was an unmistakable shuffle as heads around the room pinned their gazes on them. Or more accurately, on her. For a moment, Pessie pitied Deena. Was it really so fun to be recognized wherever you went, to always have to be on?

“Happy birthday to your daughter!” one of the secretaries called out.

Deena grinned. “A little belated, but thanks. Weren’t those plate pictures incredible?”

She kept that dazzling smile on her face, but Pessie detected something behind those thousand perfect teeth. Deena had tensed at the comment, a faint ripple of… something, stiffening her smile.

So the inside isn’t all air, hmm, Mrs. Popular Food Blogger?

The secretary stood up. “Come, I’ll show you around.”

Deena and Pessie followed her around the showroom. As Deena contemplated the different bowls — “I want something really modern for breakfast condiments, no, these are too bold, something more subtle, hey, what are these?” — Pessie amusedly observed the secretary’s demeanor.

She’d never met the girl, but it was pretty obvious that the smile was wider, her voice a notch louder than usual, and as she spoke about plastic cups with exaggerated fervor, her darting eyes betrayed her timorous awe. Guess who came into the showroom today? Nuts & Basil! I promise you!

If Deena noticed how hard the girl was trying to impress, she definitely didn’t let on. Her own smile was equally oversized, although on her face it looked so completely natural, nobody would accuse her of trying too hard.

“What do you think, Pessie?” she asked. She held up two oblong cake trays. “For the tea room. Should we stick with white or bring in a little gold?”

Pessie barely resisted a smirk. Mamesh, you need my opinion here, sure.

But she played along. “I think the gold adds personality. I like it.”

“How about plate collections?” the young secretary asked. “Did you see the Pearl Collection? It’s stunning, really hot. A lot of caterers are taking it.”

“We use china for the actual meals,” Pessie explained. “We only need disposable plates for fillers, like Melaveh Malkah, breakfast, the tea room…”

The shock at her own words hit her only a moment later. We use china? Who was we? She was only here to do Yochi a favor, she wasn’t part of the tour staff.

But the words replayed themselves in her ears — We use… We use.

And surprisingly, it didn’t bother her. She found the entire thing amusing.

They continued with their order, sitting down at the secretary’s desk to discuss quantities and pricing. Deena stayed out of the technicalities, and as Pessie calculated costs, she once again took a strange pleasure in the feeling of being an insider.

Back in the car, Deena tapped on her phone. “All right, I’m happy that’s done. So! Tablecloths next?”

“Whatever you say. You’re the boss.”

“Ha! You’re the boss, sweetie. Your husband hired me, remember?”

“Well then, maybe he’s your boss. I have nothing to do with this tour.”

Deena’s eyes rounded. “You have nothing to do with this tour? You’re the tour director’s wife.”

“And so?”

“And so?” Deena settled her fingers on the steering wheel, and Pessie’s eyes were once again riveted to the sparkling eternity band. “And so, you can’t possibly have nothing to do with the tour. I mean, it’s a pretty encompassing job, not your typical nine-to-five.”

“That is true.”

Deena threw her a questioning glance, as though expecting Pessie to elaborate.

Pessie snapped her seatbelt shut and gazed ahead coolly. “Work is work. It’s not so fun. You do what you have to do, right?”

“Rrrright. But like, this job is different. It must be pretty exciting, never-a-dull-moment kind of life.”

“That’s also true.”

“There’s this massive but hovering on your lips.”

Boy, food bloggers were a blunt species.

“No buts,” Pessie said tersely.

“Whatever you say. Sorry if I said anything wrong. I didn’t mean anything here, I was just trying to picture what it’s like to be in your place.”

She didn’t know what got into her. Maybe the entire OMG-no-way-lol-so-fun veneer had touched her on some level, maybe it was that frisson of something she’d detected behind Deena’s smile. The words left her mouth before she could think twice. “Honestly?” she said. “It’s a very lonely place to be.”

Deena stopped at a red light and turned to look at Pessie. Her eyes were probing, but not in an intrusive way. She seemed almost… yearning.

“It is,” Pessie said earnestly. To her surprise, it didn’t feel awkward to confide in Mrs. Airy. It felt so natural and normal. And it filled her with an acute relief. “It’s not your typical nine-to-five job,” she went on, “which means he’s always working. And even when he isn’t, his head isn’t here. It’s… I hate this job. It makes me feel like I’m all alone.”

Deena drove in silence for a moment. Pessie watched her bejeweled finger tap on the steering wheel. Finally, she glanced at Pessie, a sheen over her eyes.

“I get that,” she said. “I understand you too well.”

to be continued…

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 773)