She’d intended for it to sound like a light joke, but Bracha clearly wasn’t fooled, because, after a pause, she said, “I’ll tell you what happened. I stopped by Ayala’s house a little while ago and she was lying on the couch, looking half dead. I asked her why she didn’t go to bed and she said she had a meeting with you in an hour. But her eyes kept closing during the five minutes I was talking to her, and she couldn’t even focus enough to answer my question. I convinced her to go to sleep and said I’d give you the message.”

Dini didn’t know if this explanation was supposed to make her feel better or worse. So it wasn’t that Ayala was choosing to communicate with Dini via her executive assistant; it was that Bracha was actually calling the shots.

“I see,” she said coldly. And immediately felt petty. It wasn’t as if there was anything urgent about today’s meeting; in fact, she herself had asked Ayala several times last night whether she was absolutely sure she felt up to getting together today. So how did Bracha get to come off now as the caring friend looking out for Ayala’s welfare?

Dini gritted her teeth as Bracha said conspiratorially, “I was actually very proud of myself. We both know how stubborn Ayala can be about insisting she can do it all.”

Despite herself, Dini laughed. “Oh, yeah. Ms. Superhero. I always tease her about that.”

“That’s something we have in common, then.”

Dini could hear the smile in Bracha’s voice and she realized with a start that it was true. But I was friends with Ayala first! a small voice screamed inside. I know her longer and better!

She leaned her head against her living room wall, feeling her shoulders sag. No, this wasn’t a friendship contest and they weren’t in junior high.

She swallowed. “I’m glad you forced her to go to sleep,” she said, and was relieved to hear that she sounded sincere. “It’s what I would have done.”

“Forced is a strong term,” Bracha laughed. “As if I could force Ayala to do anything! I simply persuaded her that this was what she wanted to do.”

Dini thought once again about her mother-in-law’s arrangement of her Shabbos plans. What about her own mother, making appointments for her with nonprofit consultants without consulting her? Lucky Ayala….

“How nice not to have people in your life who think they can force you to do things.”

She winced; she hadn’t meant to say that aloud. Certainly not to Bracha, whom she barely knew.

“Hey,” Bracha said, and her voice sounded softer than Dini had ever heard it. “We’re all sometimes forced into situations we’d rather not have to deal with, whether by the people in our lives or, um, other circumstances.” She cleared her throat again, and Dini had a funny sensation that Bracha, too, was speaking her thoughts aloud.  “But we can always choose to deal with it on our own terms. Y’know?”

Dini blinked.  On her own terms? What did Bracha mean by that? When a Shabbos was booked and arranged down to the last detail for her, where did her own choice come in? By deciding when to tell Shuki about it?

She suddenly had a vision of escorting a blindfolded Shuki into the car on Friday afternoon, and removing it only when they arrived at the hotel. Picturing the scene, she began to giggle. She was positive that wasn’t what her mother-in-law had in mind by “surprise,” but Shuki would totally go for it.

Maybe Bracha was on to something? Smiling to herself, she said, “You are so right.”

In the end, Dini nixed the blindfold, in order to allow Chaviva to continue showing her face in their neighborhood, but she and the kids had a blast coming up with schemes to surprise Tatty, each one wackier than the next.

When she asked Shuki if he could drive to the Waldorf on Friday to pick up a suitcase that her mother had sent them with a friend, Tamar and Yaeli couldn’t stop themselves from giggling, but if Shuki suspected something was up, he didn’t let on. Instead, he groused about wasting his morning driving across town to pick up suitcases of stuff they didn’t need.

“Hasn’t your mother learned after thirteen years that Israel isn’t a third-world country?” he grumbled. “Tell me one thing we actually need that we can’t get here.”

“You’re right, but what can I do?” Dini said, winking behind his back at the kids. “My mother already sent it with the Friedmans.”

As soon as Shuki left on Friday morning for Shacharis, with a reluctant promise to stop by the hotel afterward, Dini called a cab. It hadn’t been easy packing Shuki’s Shabbos clothes without his noticing, and she was positive he would discover something vital that she’d left at home, but hey, weren’t surprises fun?

She felt a bit self-conscious sitting in the Waldorf lobby with two suitcases, and even more self-conscious wearing a black sheitel and sunglasses, but the kids had insisted that she do this all the way. Dini leaned back in her chair, amusing herself by listening to the conversation of a shidduch date next to her, until she saw Shuki walk in. He had his phone out, and was clearly about to call the fabricated Friedmans’ number. She quickly stood up and, wheeling her suitcases along, walked up behind him.

“Excuse me,” she said, in a European accent of nondescript nationality. “Are you Mr. Blumenfeld? I have a suitcase for you.”

Shuki swiveled around. His eyes fell first on their two suitcases from home, and his brow furrowed a bit. Then he looked up and his mouth dropped open. He stared at her for several seconds.

Dini grinned; she had never seen Shuki speechless before. “Which suitcase would you like?” she continued in her fake European accent. “I personally recommend the black one. It has clothing more in your style.”

Shuki blinked, then broke out in a huge smile. “Your accent’s horrible. Almost as bad as your wig.”

She lifted her chin. “How offensive. Both of them are Europe’s finest.”

His lips twitched and so did hers, and before she knew it, they were both guffawing smack in the middle of the Waldorf lobby.

After wiping her eyes, Dini said, “Wanna know what I’m doing here?”

Shuki shrugged. “Nah. It’s obvious.” He grabbed the two suitcase handles. “You’re a Mossad agent.” He began to walk, pulling the suitcases after him. “I must say, it’s about time you revealed yourself, ’cause I was really wondering about that whole Chesed Tzirel cover-up you had going there.”

Dini cracked up. “I’d be a terrible Mossad agent.”

“Well, I would advise you to work on that accent.” Shuki stopped in his tracks. “Um, where am I going?”

“We’re spending Shabbos here, but it’s too early for check-in, so we’re going to leave these with the concierge and take a walk to the Kosel first. Sound good?”

“Super, boss. Will you be going in disguise?”  He nodded toward her black wig and sunglasses.  “Man, had I known, I would’ve brought my gorilla costume.”

“Ha ha. I’m going to the ladies’ room right now to change.” Dini picked up her sheitel box.

Shuki held up a hand. “Just tell me something. Is it my birthday? Or our anniversary? What are we celebrating?”

Dini smirked. “This weekend is courtesy of your mother, who felt that you need a vacation.”

As Shuki’s eyes widened, Dini added, softly, “And we’re celebrating the fact that you’re about to relieve my intense curiosity and tell me what’s been eating you these past few weeks.”

“It’s really not such a big deal,” was how Shuki began, as they strolled through the Old City, but Dini couldn’t help notice that his hands were clenched at his sides.

She stayed silent, letting him talk at his own pace.

“The past few months, the company’s been going through a financial downturn,” he said.

She shot him a sharp glance. Financial downturn? But… her mother-in-law certainly wasn’t acting like she was worried about money.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“Every company has its ups and downs,” Shuki quickly reassured her. “That’s part of the business. We’re not, like, in danger of imminent collapse. But some of the nursing homes have been struggling.”

“If your father was smart, he’d take you off billing and get you involved in their marketing,” Dini said.

“Right, with all my experience.” Shuki twisted his mouth wryly.

“You’re a natural!” she exclaimed. “Look what you’ve been doing for Chesed Tzirel.”

He gave her a small smile. “Unfortunately, my father didn’t consult with you. Instead, he brought in a new manager to oversee the finances and tighten the ship overall.”

His face darkened and Dini couldn’t help but wonder what tightening the ship meant for a chilled worker like Shuki.

“He’s a disaster, this Eric. He’s been making my life miserable. If he could fire me, he probably would.” Shuki shook his head, his jaw tightening.

Dini’s mouth opened indignantly, as Shuki continued. “It’s not just me, it’s my whole department. But I’m the only one who’s complained about him because, y’know, family privilege.” He scowled.

“And what happened?”

Shuki shook his head. “Let’s just say, Ta was not on my side.”

To be continued…

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 888)