“Mommy’s getting ready, and then we’ll go to shul, ’kay?”

The two kids nodded, and Shira changed quickly, adjusted her sheitel, wished her makeup had lasted longer, and took the kids’ hands. It was so late, why had she kept them up? Because Ephraim told you he’d love to dance with the kids tonight. And he barely sees them. But she should have said no, they’d be crazy tomorrow.

The kids ran ahead, Shira hurried after them. At the bottom of the stairs, her mother-in-law was peering into the foyer mirror, dabbing at her cheek. Was she leaving to shul? Without her?

Her mother-in-law looked up.

“You’re coming to shul tonight?”

Her tone sounded bright and surprised. Okay, so she was going without her, but only because she hadn’t realized Shira was going. Ugh, she really should have insisted on putting the kids to bed on time tonight.

“Ephraim really wanted to dance with the kids.”

Her mother-in-law made a face. “Is he going to deal with them tomorrow?”

Shira chuckled. Her mother-in-law was on her side.

“Walk together?”

“Sure,” Shira said automatically, and instantly regretted it. A whole walk to shul with nothing to talk about, so awkward. She quickly gathered a bag of essentials for the kids. “I’ll meet you in the front, the carriage is at the side door.”

“Let me help,” her mother-in-law offered. Shira tried not to let her shock show. Help? Since when?

Once the kids were buckled in the stroller, they made their way down the streets. It was coldish, perfect Succos weather.

“How’s Yom Tov been for you?” her mother-in-law asked. “A bit different than you’re used to.”

“Yeah, it’s crazy how we’ve never really spent any Yamim Tovim in Chicago.”

“It’s funny how it worked out the past bunch of years, with a bunch of you in Israel, it just made sense to come. Daddy is happy to be back in his own shul.”

Daddy? It took Shira a second to realize her mother-in-law was referring to her father-in-law. Was it terrible that she felt so distant? Say something, Shira, to make it sound like you get it.

Shira shook her thoughts loose. “I was listening to a podcast recently, and they were talking about the idea of ‘coming home’ and what that means for people. Like psychologically, internally, what having your own space and routine in a location does for people’s mental health.”

“Interesting,” her mother-in-law commented. “Is it always a good thing?”

Shira frowned. That was a good question.

“Not sure. Don’t remember what they said.” She paused. Return the volley, her social skills kicked in. “What do you think?”

“I like psychology and social psychology podcasts myself,” her mother-in-law said, reaching to take over pushing the stroller. “I feel like they’d say that we fall into old patterns when we go home. And that’s for better or for worse. We revert to old dynamics, old roles. Like the bossy older sister, or the lazy brother, or the bickering family. It’s comforting to go down well-worn neural pathways, but I’m not always sure it’s a good thing.”

Did that explain some of Ephraim’s behavior over the past two months, that old habits die hard?

“Who do you like to listen to?” her mother-in-law asked her.

This part of the conversation was easy.

“Huge DeeDee Dvorkus fan. She’s a life coach, and I just think she’s so smart.”

Shira looked at her mother-in-law. Unreadable, as usual. Did she think life coaches were frauds? It was so her type to.

“I’ve never heard of her. Do you think I’d enjoy her stuff?”

“Of course!” Was she serious, or just being nice? Did she know how to be “just nice”? She looked back at her mother-in-law, who seemed to be looking at a large apartment building a few blocks away.

“I was thinking of you and Ephraim the other day,” she said. “My friend Miriam has a condo in Winston Towers.” She pointed at the building. “She inherited it from her mother, who passed away a few years ago. I thought maybe you and Ephraim could rent it, but Winston Towers has very strict rules about renting. In Miriam’s building, only 17 percent of the apartments can be rented out. So, the apartment is just sitting now. She doesn’t want to sell it. She’s hoping someone moves soon so she could be part of the 17 percent.”

“That’s really nice of you to think of us and ask.” Shira was genuinely shocked. Was her mother-in-law really changing, or was she imagining it? Or maybe she was just that desperate to get rid of them.

“There’s nothing like having your own space. You’ll feel so much more settled and happier in Chicago when you have a place to call your own.”

Was her misery that obvious?

They arrived at shul, and her mother-in-law pulled open the heavy doors so Shira could push the stroller in.

“Shira!”

She knew someone here? Shira squinted. Danielle. She was with two other women Shira didn’t know, but Danielle was gesturing for her to join them. Shira looked over at her mother-in-law, who smiled and waved her on.

“Have fun!”

“Thanks, Mommy,” Shira said, and was surprised at how naturally it came out.

Danielle was smiley and welcoming as always. And surprisingly, so were the other two women. They introduced themselves as Malky and Rikki, they lived in town, one of them grew up here, the other married a Chicago boy.

“Like me!” Shira smiled, feeling relief at this tiny thing they shared in common.

Danielle knew them because Rikki lived on her block and she’d met Malky at a Shabbos seudah at Rikki’s house. It was so normal. Move out, now, you need a life. Shira made a mental note. The turquoise bathrooms flashed through her mind. The realtor had badgered them about considering to put down an offer. She couldn’t.

Rikki’s son wandered up to them crying, and then Malky’s daughter needed to be changed. Shira and Danielle were alone for a moment, and Danielle turned to Shira. She looked concerned.

“I’ve been meaning to call you, but it was never the right time, with Yom Tov and everything.”

Shira looked at her expectantly.

“My husband told me that your husband is really struggling after that last paper. He feels so bad, he wishes he would’ve given him more of a heads-up on this professor. That guy is randomly brutal. He doesn’t know if it would’ve made a difference, but he still feels like he failed a friend.”

What was Danielle even saying?

“Anyway, I just wanted to check in, see how you’re doing with all this. This schooling thing is hard enough on the wife, but add in poor performance and the stress is through the roof.”

Was Ephraim struggling? Was he failing? Was he terrible at law school? If yes, why didn’t he say anything to his wife, and if not, what was Danielle talking about?

“I’m okay,” Shira said vaguely. “Thanks for asking. It means a lot.” That part was at least true.

to be continued…

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 815)