Deena felt blood rushing to her face. No, Miri. No! You didn’t just imply to the audience that I copy recipes. How could you?

The tour people really did think of everything.

“This is the cutest and smartest thing ever,” Deena told Pessie as they led their kids into the shul conference room.

The tour had brought down a local kids’ entertainer to do face painting with the kids so the adults could enjoy their evening program undisturbed. The Lizman and Hersko girls ran over to join their tour friends clustered in line.

When they walked out, leaving the kids behind, the knot in Deena’s stomach tightened. This was it, showtime.

They were heading down the hallway in silence when Pessie gave a resolute cough. “How could you not like a person before you said hello to him?”

Deena turned her head abruptly. “What are you talking about?”

“You know good and well what I’m talking about.”

Deena sniffed. “Sweetie, I have a show to run in less than 20 minutes. I’m nervous. Can you leave me alone?”

“It’s not good to be alone. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

Deena continued walking.

“He’s a great father,” Pessie added.

Deena rolled her eyes in exasperation. Pessie was still talking, but Deena tuned her out. She was not in a conversational mood.

“You should probably eat something,” Pessie suggested when they passed the tea room. “You didn’t have a thing at dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You don’t feel hungry, because you’re nervous, but you need the energy.”

“What do you want?” Deena snapped.

“Honestly? I want to distract you from yourself.”