“Ladies, now comes the fun part. Why did you come today? What are your dreams for Chesed Tzirel?”

Shuki walked into the house whistling Ishay Ribo. Dini jumped up when she saw him.

“Shuki! Are you home already?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Sorry to say, I am. I’d go daven Maariv a second time if that would make you happier, but then we’d be late to the concert.”

Flustered, Dini glanced from the papers she’d been writing notes on to the casual sweater and skirt she was still wearing. “Don’t be silly, I just meant that I lost track of time. I still need to get dressed.” How ridiculous that she’d been looking forward to this concert for months, but now that it was here she had no headspace for anything but Chesed Tzirel.

“You look dressed to me.”

She made a face. “Big shot. Like you wouldn’t be totally mortified if I showed up to your parents’ benefit concert looking like I just finished cleaning up from supper.”

Both of them automatically glanced at the kitchen, where a teenage girl was busy washing the dishes.

“Uh, speaking of, who is cleaning up our supper?”

“That’s Batsheva,” Dini said brightly. “She’s friends with Yaffi’s cleaning help. She’ll be coming every night to straighten up and fold laundry, isn’t that great?” Her smile faded. “But I need to change pronto. What time are we supposed to be there again?”

“Well, the preconcert cocktails start in twenty minutes, but no pressure. It’s more important to come well-dressed than to come on time, of course.”

Dini couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic. Probably not, she decided, racing into her room, as Shuki resumed his singing. “Rak aTAH sibat hasibot….”

After all, since when was Shuki a paragon of punctuality?